Chapter 191: The Tank Base
The final price for each mortar shell was set at 15 francs—a neat tenfold increase over the cost of a grenade. Charles still managed to turn a considerable profit, as each shell cost only 5 francs to produce, netting him 10 francs per round. With thousands of these mortars bound for the front lines, every shot fired would add a "ka-ching" to Charles' coffers. No wonder there's the saying, "Cannons roar, gold pours."
...
That very morning, just two hours after Charles' training session began, detailed information about the new mortars had already reached Schneider headquarters. Pauline presented a report to James with a resigned tone: "The military has already placed its first order: 200 mortars and 50,000 shells to equip an infantry division and the tank units. If the trials prove successful, the mortars will be rolled out to all 44 frontline divisions and potentially even to the reserve forces."
James stared at the document in silence, his expression grim. "A single division needs 100 mortars, which means over 5,000 units would be required for the entire army. Add in replacements for combat losses, malfunctions, and wear, and Saint-Étienne will be receiving orders indefinitely. And the ammunition requirements… astronomical."
Pauline sighed. "They've tried their best, but they can't prevent the adoption of these mortars. The consensus is that this is precisely the weapon the front line needs. Refusing it would mean certain death."
James nodded slowly, pondering for a moment before speaking each word deliberately: "I don't care about the money. What I want to know is… where did we go wrong? Was it our technology, experience, funding? Or something else entirely? Why do we seem defenseless when facing Charles?"
"Sir," Pauline replied, "I believe it's the same reason we discussed before."
James recalled their prior conversation. "Lack of combat experience? But Charles has no such experience either!"
"Yet he seems to know exactly what the military needs," Pauline answered, still struggling to fully understand it herself. "It's as if he knows precisely how to win, how to defeat the enemy, from strategy to tactics, even down to the specific weapons needed. All he has to do is produce these weapons, while we… we don't even recognize them when we see them."
James nodded in reluctant agreement, impressed by Pauline's sharp assessment. Each of Charles' innovations—tanks, rocket planes, machine gun aircraft, grenades, and now mortars—had proven essential at crucial moments. Refusing any one of them would mean death or defeat.
James sighed heavily. "How can we compete with an adversary like this? He holds the lifeblood of warfare in his hands. How do we beat him, or do we just watch as he slowly encroaches on our territory?"
Pauline straightened, responding with conviction. "I think we need to study him, sir."
"Study him?" James' eyes brightened, and he nodded in agreement. "You're right, Pauline! I want a full breakdown of every campaign he's commanded—every detail."
"Yes, sir," Pauline replied steadily.
...
On a misty, rainy day in Paris' 12th Arrondissement, east of the Gare de Lyon and several kilometers into a desolate area on the city's edge, lay an unremarkable strip of barren land. Between the rolling hills and sparse trees, one wouldn't notice the barbed wire and armed soldiers who had set up guard posts, marking it as a restricted military zone.
In the heart of this zone, surrounded by a small mountain range, lay France's first tank base. The decision to isolate this tank brigade came after the successful deployment of tanks at La Foux. Since then, this lone French tank brigade had been moved to this base for secure training.
Every hill and tree had been thoroughly searched and was guarded, the surrounding three kilometers kept clear, and aerial patrols ensured no enemy reconnaissance planes could approach. This tank unit, now the French First Tank Brigade, was led by Colonel Broni with Colonel Estigny as chief of staff.
Gallieni's vision for the unit was clear: rather than rushing them back to the front, he wanted the brigade to remain in the rear, refining their tactics and developing strategies. When additional tanks became available, these strategies could be scaled and tested in combat, step by step.
"They represent the pinnacle of French combat capability," Gallieni had declared. "This brigade's tactics could reshape our entire doctrine. If their success can be replicated, it will lay the foundation for a new strategic doctrine. We mustn't allow any chance of a leak."
As a result, the tank base was tightly controlled—entrance only, with rare exceptions made for people like Charles and Estigny. But even Charles had to submit a request, provide a reason, and undergo multiple security checks.
When Charles arrived, he found Colonel Broni sitting in a sidecar, poring over a training map as a few Mark I tanks rumbled nearby, rehearsing maneuvers with infantry in the muddy terrain. Broni was so engrossed that he only noticed Charles approaching when a guard notified him.
"Charles!" Broni called out, his stern face breaking into a warm smile as he leapt up and gave Charles an enthusiastic hug. "I was just thinking about you, and here you are! Look at you—a major now! Soon you'll be my superior, no?"
Charles laughed it off and casually asked, "How's it going here, Colonel? Everything in order?"
Broni chuckled. "It's a fantastic setup. For a tank base, we have everything we could ask for. The only thing missing, frankly, is you."
Raising the map in his hand, Broni added with a sigh, "They want me to develop a comprehensive tactical manual. Isn't that supposed to be your job or Estigny's?"
"You're the brigade commander, Colonel," Charles replied. "Technically, everything here is your responsibility. And if you don't have a full grasp of the tactics, it will be hard for you to lead in combat."
"I understand that," Broni said with a faint smile. "Still, I miss the old days when all I had to think about was how to kill the enemy."
"Having any difficulties?" Charles nodded toward the map in Broni's hand.
"Oh, yes," Broni replied, suddenly recalling his concern. He held up the map for Charles to see. "I'm considering a situation—what if our tank brigade encounters a hidden enemy artillery unit? I mean, specifically, the German 77mm field guns?"
Charles nodded slightly. The scenario was all too familiar.
The German M96 77mm field gun, while no match for France's 75mm in range, speed, or accuracy, was often hidden close to German lines, providing infantry support within visual range. Since it couldn't compete in a long-range artillery duel, the Germans positioned it near the front, waiting for the French artillery to approach before striking unexpectedly.
Such a tactic posed a significant threat to tanks!
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