Chapter 8

Chapter 008

They say that even if you hang the Ministry of National Defense upside down, it will still function. The year 1913, which seemed like it would never come, has finally arrived. The six months of my death sentence have passed so quickly.

Even though my body is within the unit, my ears are constantly exposed to the news of the world.

Let's just look at the major events. First, Raymond Nicolas Landary Poincaré was elected as the new president of the Third Republic.

Generally, the French president is a purely political and symbolic figure, not directly involved in administration or daily operations. However, Raymond influenced the lives of the citizens every day.

Through his anti-German ideology.

"Even though I was only 11 years old at the time, I still vividly remember it! The humiliation of the Germans proclaiming their empire on our French soil! The tears shed by our people!"

A president from the Democratic Republican Alliance, with many allies and rivals. If I were to define him simply:

"A man who implements policies based on anti-German ideology."

Is the French economy bad?

It's Germany's fault.

Is the defense budget too high?

It's Germany's fault.

Have food prices risen recently?

It's Germany's fault.

Even if you're getting paid less or have lost money on investments, it's all Germany's fault.

Under this premise, he says:

Don't worry. Now that I've become president as an anti-German activist, things will change.

If you're a true French citizen, who would you give your vote to?

Conservative politicians who explain detailed policies and plans for the country's development and security?

Or a candidate who straightforwardly identifies the enemy and promises to tear them apart?

That's why Raymond Poincaré became president.

In a sense, Germany, which didn't even cast a single vote, made Raymond Poincaré president.

But what can you do? This is the era we live in.

Not just in France, but in Britain and Germany as well, the one who can best insult the other directly translates into votes, so politicians are having a field day with their rhetoric.

"They are shameless, trying to threaten the naval power of our British Empire—"

"Germany is preparing for war! We can no longer stand idly by!"

"Who is our greatest enemy?!"

The truly remarkable thing is that none of this actually translates into policy.

Seeing this, I feel a sense of despair and can only laugh bitterly.

"How are you going to gather all of that?"

They're writing blank checks now, but soon they'll be paying interest that rivals loan sharks.

'Well, they expanded knowing the IMF was coming, didn't they?'

Rather, they expanded when the crisis hit.

If you look at it that way, they'll just talk more when the war starts.

The second major news is that a plan to determine France's future has been established.

While the exact details haven't been made public, according to news from Pétain, it seems that a plan for a war against Germany, similar to the report I submitted, has been set.

"The content is obvious."

Even though it's a secret, considering what the French army has been advocating, it's not really a secret plan.

First, the best defense is a good offense. And at the core will be Alsace-Lorraine, which has a symbolic and value significance a thousand times greater than the Rhine.

So, the plan devised by the great French Army staff will likely be this:

'When the war starts, we will charge straight into Alsace-Lorraine. The details after that are omitted.'

Yes, it's clear.

The problem is that I have to fight according to this plan, but with Pétain, it should somehow work out. After all, it's 'that' Pétain.

Finally, the biggest change to my otherwise quiet unit life has arrived.

"My dear friend, Berger Mohel!"

"...Hello."

"Of course, hello! How are you? Are you restless because you can't torment the lower ranks anymore?"

"Stop barking. I'm teaching them how to survive on the battlefield."

"Ah, there he goes with his strange talk again. Berger, to be honest, can you understand? Are you a pervert who takes pleasure in the suffering of your subordinates?"

"Ha..."

A tall man, a head taller than me, is laughing heartily.

His name is Charles de Gaulle, my fellow Saint-Cyr classmate and a lieutenant in the 33rd Infantry Regiment of Arras.

Yes, a lieutenant. Low in rank and low in position, a small fry.

What about me? I was promoted to captain right after the new year.

"You're a lieutenant. I'm a captain."

"If that's your logic, fine. Name one captain you're close to."

"..."

"Good, that silence. I really like it. From now on, let's treat each other as classmates, not by rank."

Damn. He talks well. Of course, he'll be promoted to captain this year, so there's not much difference.

But every time I see him, I feel a sense of detachment. How should I put it? It's a bit strange.

Wasn't history supposed to record the truth? Why isn't this Charles de Gaulle the one I know?

A confident and brave president, frugal and austere. That was Charles de Gaulle, wasn't it?

No matter how I recall, the word 'vulgar' has never been associated with Charles de Gaulle.

"This time, the woman I met..."

"Shut up. Just."

"Tsk, pretending not to be interested."

Interest? This guy, while I'm counting down the days until I die, is he really interested in women?

Of course, I'm a man, so I'm interested, but it's far down on my priority list.

"So, when are you going to tell me? Your unit makes my blood boil. Am I the only one?"

"No one else says that."

"Well, there's the regimental commander, isn't there?"

If not for Pétain's protection, I would have been labeled a troublemaker and only received abuse, with no chance to change units.

Honestly, I know. A captain who gets protection from a colonel at the end of his career won't be seen in a good light.

Especially if he's an elite and from a wealthy family.

To such a person, Charles de Gaulle is one of my few connections. Though it's a half-forced connection.

'A great man in the future... in the future.'

Being great in the future doesn't mean the present is positive.

"I want to see it too! I've already heard the news. What kind of report did you submit to the colonel? Show it to me now!"

"Hmm, I don't know, I don't have it."

This guy makes me want to smoke. No matter how much my lungs protest, my brain, stressed out, lights up a cigarette.

It's all his fault.

It's amazing how non-smokers start smoking in the military, and those who already smoke become chain smokers.

"If you say that."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing, just that I'll have to keep pushing you."

How does this country run that this guy ends up as the head of state?

How did my country, France, end up giving power to such a person?

'I shouldn't get too involved with this guy.'

Being around him makes me feel strange.

"Why are you so interested in me?"

"Hmm, not just me. Everyone is secretly interested in you."

I knew, but to this extent? Just changing a platoon draws so much attention.

"You told my subordinates that the French army's offensive spirit is insane? How could they not be interested?"

"Cough, cough. Choke!"

"Who said that? Who said that?"

"Look, it's true."

Where did it leak from? I taught them aggressively, but it's strange that it came out of another unit's officer's mouth.

If de Gaulle is saying this, it must have made its way back to my ears.

"But the regimental commander, who knows this, is doing nothing? That's at least negligence or complicity."

"But."

"But I've thought about it a lot too."

"What have you thought about?"

"About completely overhauling the unit and starting over."

"Hey, you... sigh, sigh."

Deep breaths. I need deep breaths.

So, the new officer in the neighboring unit, being my classmate, found it interesting and came over.

"Just kidding, I'm curious."

"If it's nonsense, our conversation ends here. What are you curious about?"

Why are there so many people curious about me?

"Why are you doing this? What you're doing goes beyond what most people would do. You're really pushing it. It's more than just being diligent."

"..."

It hits home.

Hiding seriousness in vulgarity, is this the Charles de Gaulle I know?

I considered various responses, but in the end, I decided to brush it off simply.

"I did it because I thought it might be useful later. Is that okay?"

"Well, the explanation is lacking, but I'll accept it for now."

"Don't ask anymore. I'm just doing it out of boredom."

"You know, friend. The capitalists I know never waste money out of boredom. Next time, come prepared with a better answer!"

"I'm not a... sigh, okay."

Capitalist, capitalist. If I were enjoying the taste of money during my military service, I wouldn't know.

I'm just eating my rations and living in this damn unit. We all wear the same colorful military coats. What makes me a capitalist?

Charles de Gaulle.

Although I know nothing about his young days in my previous life, what I admire about him is his charisma.

'With such charisma, handling people should be a piece of cake.'

"It's time. I have a meeting to go to! Hurry up and go enjoy your dirty hobby of tormenting your subordinates!"

Correction.

He's just a clown character you'd find in any unit. His life's goal is to roll around and play pranks everywhere.

With a personality like that, he might even befriend the enemy, but hey, don't get too close to me.

I don't want to get entangled and end up tired later.

He's the type who causes trouble and then comes to me with a grin, asking for help. Then, out of a sense of camaraderie, I get dragged along.

My military instincts scream.

If you don't want to serve an extended term in the Resistance, don't get too close.

***

The four major military lines I followed from North Korea.

The officerization of the entire army, the fortification of all regions, the modernization of the entire army, and the arming of all people.

The last one, the arming of all people, is not my role since the state will soon conscript and arm all citizens and send them to the battlefield.

So, to apply at least the first three to my unit, the current situation is insufficient.

'Weapon replacement and supply... lack of capital, technology, and production. Most importantly, it's a political issue, so it's not possible yet.'

What I can do is teach their usage, familiarize them, and spread the adapted doctrine.

'Trench digging is now so familiar it's almost boring.'

Have you heard of it? Fortification work.

When the order for fortification work is given, our platoon transforms into engineers, holding shovels and picks instead of guns.

In the military, when you hold a shovel, you're an engineer, and when you hold a gun, you're an infantryman.

This is the same old routine. The unit life, where today is the same as yesterday and tomorrow will be the same as today, is, frankly, suffocating.

I'm not saying the unit is suffocating.

It's just that inserting a new day into the same old unit every day is difficult.

The current situation is no different.

"Are you crazy?"

"No, sir."

"What do you mean no! How am I supposed to accept this!"

Slamming the desk and standing up, but I didn't flinch. Honestly, I don't know how great this person will become.

A lieutenant colonel who didn't make much of an impact on history. At least in my memory.

His name is my superior, Pascal Duheng.

The commander of the 18th Battalion of the 33rd Infantry Regiment.

Although our platoon is separate, we are clearly under the 18th Battalion and he is my superior.

"Unapproved military actions should be referred to a military court, don't you know?"

"I received approval."

"From whom, Colonel Pétain?"

"Yes, sir."

"That's the problem! It's a violation of the reporting system!"

When did I not report?

I always reported, though it was often more of a notification. Since my superior didn't give separate approval, I had to go higher.

This is... like a letter of the heart. If you don't solve it, I'll have to go higher and push it.

"Live ammunition training? Are you joking? Which unit uses live ammunition every month!"

"I thought it was necessary."

Next year, it won't be monthly but daily.

I'm aware. I know I'm pushing it.

Leaning on the desk and shouting, he eventually calmed down and slumped into his chair.

"I'm really curious now. Why are you doing this? Do you have some hidden grievance with me?"

Ah, this question again. The numerous 'whys' that pop up whenever I try to do something.

But I have no intention or obligation to explain to them, so I consistently push forward.

I don't have time to convince them, and they wouldn't understand anyway.

'Is it even reasonable? Most soldiers have never fired a live round.'

Rounds are for real combat. Before that, it's just posture. That's the reality. It reminds me of a certain military training where they make gun sounds with their mouths.

The most experienced shooter in our unit has fired only twice. And with a five-round clip. It's insane.

"Do you remember when I first got permission for live fire training?"

"...I remember."

"At that time, no one knew how to zero their rifles."

Many didn't even know the concept of zeroing. That's the reality.

French infantry can't shoot, and artillerymen have almost no experience with firing shells.

"Is that an excuse? You're violating the reporting system because you're dissatisfied with your soldiers?"

"No, sir. It's the fundamental reason for why I'm doing this."

He might get up and shout again, but I answered calmly.

Shout if you want. Everyone thinks Pétain's influence will soon wane, but who knows who will be cut off.

More threats and insults came, but I deflected them with a thick skin.

My face is bulletproof. Getting angry only hurts you, sir.

"Hmm... Get out. Disappear quickly."

Lieutenant Colonel Pascal, having vented his frustration, seemed exhausted and dismissed me.

"Sir, Lieutenant Colonel."

"Are you trying to say something else?"

"I'm going on leave. I need your approval for that as well."

"Damn you!"

Furiously standing up again, the battalion commander. I put on my thick skin again.

Until now, he had restrained himself, but now he unleashed all kinds of insults with aggressive gestures, emphasizing his anger.

But I stood calmly with my hands behind my back, letting it all pass through one ear.

What can you do? Not let me go? Then I'll have to take this grievance to the regimental commander.

'Even a captain has the right to write a letter of the heart.'

Yeah, that's right.