Chapter 3

Chapter 003

When coins were all the rage among the officers, I resisted the temptation with a strong will and steadfastly continued to save in the military savings account, using the leftover money to buy U.S. ETFs. I thought coins, unlike stocks, had no clear distinction between shareholders and managers, and lacked the proper evaluation of tangible assets or value as a currency.

I had a corporal under me who, if he got into coins, I thought, “Sigh, he’ll only come to his senses after a big blow.” Of course, I didn’t interfere with his choice.

Two years passed. The corporal, with 300 million won, gave up the idea of long-term service, and I, with 20 million won in savings and a -5% stock return, also gave up on long-term service. Through an experience that felt less painful than a stomachache even if I had stomach cancer, I learned just one thing: even if it’s not visible, there’s a reason for the rise of coins. Whether it’s due to lower interest rates, the release of dollars into the market, the mischief of Chinese forces, or human madness, it doesn’t matter.

Now, in front of me is the Feiteng coin, which is about to be delisted. A coin that will skyrocket just before delisting due to a favorable event from Germany across the border in two years. For this coin to rise, a myriad of events will be necessary.

Mad imperialism, the powder keg of the Balkans, Sarajevo, various alliances and secret pacts, general mobilization orders, and so on...

However, there’s no need to analyze the coin in detail. All you need to know is this:

Current price: Colonel

Expected price: French Army Marshal

It sounds like a spam text message after the market closes, but it’s the truth. At this point, you should invest even if it means borrowing money to do so. Most importantly, I know one person who has invested in this coin.

“Charles de Gaulle, he’s in this regiment too.”

A guy who almost reached the orbit of a Mars-bound spacecraft just by dipping his toe in. A guy who, starting with that momentum, eventually became the head of state.

Since this guy hasn’t even been issued yet, let alone listed, I’ll store this information in the back of my mind and focus on the undervalued coin in front of me.

There’s another reason I decided not to desert, despite all the other reasons. “One of the few generals who refused the Élan Vital.”

Now, the French army can be understood with just two things: the only army in the world that wears multicolored uniforms and the Élan Vital doctrine, which rivals the banzai charge.

The Élan Vital was planned in Plan 17. The combination of infantry and Élan Vital is a definition of death, but with the name “Pétain” attached, it’s different.

“Sergeant Fabien, is Colonel Pétain going to observe the training?”

“Well, to be honest... Colonel Pétain doesn’t visit his subordinate units.”

“What about regular meetings?”

“I understand that he sends a brief written report, which the staff officers summarize and report.”

Indeed, he’s a man ready to go home. His indifference goes beyond neglect. In a way, it’s dereliction of duty, but you can’t blame him; he’s an old man approaching sixty, an age when one starts the day with a sigh.

“Good, that’s good.”

“Ha ha, yes. As long as it doesn’t tarnish the honor of the individual unit, he probably won’t pay much attention, so there won’t be any trouble in the future...”

“What do you mean by that?”

Fabien, who has been advocating “It’s comfortable here!” all along, seems to have misunderstood my concern about the difficulty of the task. He’s completely wrong.

“Submitting written reports, to be honest, isn’t it just a matter of slightly changing the sentences from the previous content?”

“Ahem, we are making gradual progress in the content.”

Fabien’s response, as if to say, “Why are you asking when you already know?” I know. In an unchanging army, it’s more strange to submit new content every time.

“Well, that’s settled. From now on, I’ll submit all written reports myself.”

“Really?”

“Also, if there are no separate training instructions from the higher units, I’ll take the lead in planning.”

“Captain, Captain.”

“Don’t worry. I have a plan.”

Sergeant Fabien, looking at my expression, closed his eyes tightly for a moment and then answered with a resigned heart.

“I’ll prepare it as soon as you say.”

“Thank you. Don’t call me separately.”

You might think the new captain, finally drunk on the power of command, is just making things difficult, but I was more serious than ever.

As soon as Fabien left, I started planning.

This is not just a simple unit operation plan or an annual schedule. It’s a plan to get me out of the army, which is harder to escape from than Shawshank.

The sun set, and it got late, but the light in my office didn’t go out.

***

“Damn! Damn!”

“Huff, huff.”

Those running around the parade ground from morning till night. They were clearly exhausted, spitting out curses mixed with saliva.

The unusual thing was that the corporals, who had only played games all day until yesterday, were running at the front, followed by the sergeants, who were keeping pace.

Naturally, I was leading the way, as I was the highest-ranking.

“During the run, we will sing a military song. The song is ‘The Song of Onions! One, two, three, four!’”

“The fried onion is good...”

“If your voice is too low, we’ll add another lap!”

“The onion is good because it’s delicious!”

Since everyone, from NCOs to soldiers, was running together, no one could openly complain.

Actually, even if they did, it wouldn’t matter.

The army of this era was even more brutal than I thought. Fabien was surprised when I said there was no violence during training.

The expected power struggle between NCOs and officers? The corporals asserting their authority? None of that. If you rise, you get beaten; if you don’t like it, you get beaten; if you’re seen, you get beaten. In short, it’s an era where a disrupted hierarchy is unimaginable.

Barbaric and inhumane treatment? Honestly, it’s fine.

The captain said:

“Roll to the left!”

And all the soldiers rolled to the left.

“Roll to the right!”

And they all rolled to the right like one body. There was no difference between seniors and juniors. Only wriggling worms existed.

It was a sight to behold.

No wonder Fabien was worried.

“Captain, aren’t you being too harsh...”

“Are you raising an issue?”

“No! I just wonder if the NCOs need this process...”

“You and I will guide together, so you’re an exception, but the other corporals aren’t.”

After all, the corporals aren’t particularly outstanding or well-trained. They’re just seasoned soldiers, nothing more, nothing less.

While assessing the unit’s status, I was curious about something. How do the few officers manage so many soldiers? It’s not just difficult to guide them; it’s hard to control such a large number.

The French service period was recently extended from two to three years, and the number of soldiers is exploding at this moment.

‘It’s like gaining weight crazily in just a year.’

The fact that I, a recent graduate, am a captain is evidence of a shortage of officers. Even a Saint-Cyr graduate isn’t usually made a captain right away.

The method to maintain a battalion-level structure in this era’s company, which is like a bloated group, is simple.

Give the authority of NCOs to the corporals.

The corporals control the affairs of the smallest unit, the squad, and receive the authority delegated by the officers.

The officers only communicate with the corporals and superficially confirm things.

The disruption of the hierarchy and duties in the army is a crazy move, but it’s the only way to control the French army.

“Fabien, to be honest, can you say there’s a big difference between the corporals and the NCOs?”

“It’s not big, but treating them the same is not right.”

I understand what Fabien is saying. He’s wary of the corporals being placed on the same level as the NCOs.

“Don’t worry. The NCOs... have a lot to learn. If the corporals want to be like the NCOs, they can just learn the same things.”

“...”

Fabien trembled and fell silent at my firm resolve. He must have guessed that he would be busy learning under me too.

“Is this the first plan you’ve thought of, Captain?”

“Yes, there are a few more, but we’ll start with this.”

Fabien looked at the plan in his hand. At the top, it was written in large letters:

“...”

Sometimes, a lot can be conveyed without saying a word. Despite reading it over and over, Fabien’s blank stare at the paper said a lot.

He couldn’t bring himself to ask, “Has the military fever taken over your brain?” and looked at a loss.

“Do you think this is just a futile effort by a new second lieutenant who doesn’t know the field?”

“No.”

“What do you mean, no?”

Probably not just Fabien, but everyone here thinks the same.

It doesn’t matter. Everyone is just thinking about how to get through the day, as the last war for France was the Franco-Prussian War. But as a person from the future, I feel my blood drying up day by day.

To make them understand this feeling, it would take too much time and process.

The four major lines in the plan I wrote.

Although I don’t revere Kim Il-sung, the four major military lines he established are a plan that only appeared 50 years later. Here, it’s a revolution and the truth.

Moreover, the 1960s North Korean army and the current French army are similar in that they have nothing.

‘To think I would receive all the help from the North Korean leader in my lifetime.’

Anyway, now is the time to push through and enforce it.

‘But I also need to prepare the carrot.’

No sense of tension? Don’t know why they need to roll?

Then I’ll create it.

The reason they need to roll.

***

Corporal William.

The shocking news came to him at the beginning of this year.

“From this year, the mandatory service... is extended to three years?”

“Damn! What about us?”

“Well, our discharge will be next year.”

The army didn’t add a full year to everyone’s service, but the discharge of all the corporals was delayed by at least a few months. This news was enough to turn William, who was quietly waiting to go home, into a darkened soul.

“...Sergeant Jean.”

“Sergeant Jean Paul.”

“Huff, gather everyone under me.”

“Gather!”

The frustration of extended service was taken out on those under him.

The root cause was the size of the German Imperial Army, but William couldn’t understand that. He just needed someone to vent his anger on.

This way, time passed quickly.

However, the unit’s stagnation didn’t last long. Accurately, the medieval dark age began when the new captain took command.

Although initially tense, Captain Berger, who liked to mingle with the corporals, made everyone relax and be happy.

“William, did you see the new second lieutenant? He graduated from a four-year military school and looks like he wants to rest.”

“We’re good. I hope he just plays around until discharge.”

Unlike the usual new second lieutenants who come in and make everyone follow strict rules, Captain Berger knew how to be with the soldiers.

Yes, he knew too well.

“Everyone, let’s do a run!”

He trained with them.

“Hey, you guys, is this a place to leisurely eat a course meal? The army is a place where even eating is a battle!”

He ate with them.

“Captain, are you not going to leave?”

“What are you talking about? Where would I go without you guys! I’ll die in the unit if I die, and live in the unit if I live!”

He literally lived with them.

‘You damn brat! From a rich family! An heir to a fortune! Then go home and sleep in your own bed!’

They let their guard down. They momentarily forgot that their main enemy was a sincere officer.

Gather? There was no time to do it without being seen by the officer, and by the end of the day, the corporals had no energy left.

“Sergeant Jean...”

“I’ll gather them!”

“No... just turn off the lights. We need to sleep a bit more...”

“Yeah... let’s turn off the lights and sleep.”

Without the energy to be angry, they spread out their blankets and lay down, like old men lying in their graves.

How did a lively unit become more depressing than a funeral in such a short time?

How did it come to this? Why did his discharge get extended, and why did such an officer come and make them suffer like this?

A tough day turned into two, and two days turned into a month that couldn’t be gotten used to. Slowly, the corporals’ brains started to heat up.

At this point, it wasn’t just about the intensity of the training; it was a matter of survival.

‘Even if he’s an officer, this is crossing the line!’

‘Overthrow the class system! Fight for freedom!’

‘Charge!’

What kind of country is this? Isn’t it a revolutionary country that fought against dictatorship, corruption, and incompetence? If even the great Napoleon had to abdicate, can’t we change a mere captain?

Of course, they can’t, but William thought he could at least protest.

The current captain is crazy. This is the 33rd Infantry Regiment of Aras, 2nd Battalion, 7th Company, not a second Saint-Cyr Military Academy.

Thinking that he would have to die if this continued, he decided to take action.

Just as the sun, tired from a day of work, was about to set, Captain Berger called Corporal William.