I Became a Tycoon During World War I: Saving France from the Start

Chapter 137: Better Off Not Knowing the Truth

"What else can I do, General?" Charles countered. "I don't want my tank to fail, but the reality is it stands no chance."

Gallieni was momentarily stunned, realizing that this wasn't Charles's fault. It was beyond his control. Still, Gallieni felt they couldn't just stand by. "You could try to stop them."

"How, exactly?" Charles replied quietly, then added, "If they had trusted me, there wouldn't be two other tanks competing. They created those tanks to outperform mine. And you think you can persuade them to abandon them?"

Gallieni was at a loss for words. Charles was right: simply trying to persuade rivals to quit development and drop out of the competition was impossible; it would only provoke ridicule and accusations of "self-interest."

Gallieni paced the room, frowning. Suddenly, he stopped. "Tell me what's wrong with their tanks, and I'll pressure them myself."

Charles shook his head. "It won't work, General. To them, you're as biased as I am; they'd see it as 'self-serving' just the same."

"We have to try!" Gallieni insisted. "This could determine the outcome of a battle—and the lives of countless soldiers."

Charles finally replied, "I don't have access to their tank specs, so I can't identify specific weaknesses…"

This wasn't exactly true. Charles knew their tanks' flaws without needing data, but that was information from the future—something he obviously couldn't reveal.

"Just tell me what you do know," Gallieni urged.

"It's the artillery, General," Charles explained. "Mounting a cannon on a tank isn't as easy as it seems. Weight, accuracy, exhaust—all of it creates deadly weaknesses."

Germany's Panzer I tank would still only use two machine guns even decades later, its 100-horsepower engine barely supporting two crew members and a 5.4-ton structure. But the Saint-Chamond tank, with only a 90-horsepower engine, was ambitiously equipped with a 75mm gun, four machine guns, and required nine operators, pushing its weight to a staggering 27 tons.

Gallieni pondered this. If it were so easy to mount a cannon on a tank, why wouldn't Charles have done it himself? Did they think Charles wasn't capable? He finally saw the real issue: others had taken on too much, focusing on flashy specs and firepower rather than balanced performance.

Charles's tank, though modest in weaponry, was practical, sound, and battle-ready—a fact confirmed by his string of remarkable battlefield victories.

Gallieni sighed as he returned to his chair, now fully understanding Charles's predicament. This was the greed of industrialists. Their pursuit of profit led them to make reckless decisions that no one could stop. Yet tragically, it was the soldiers on the front lines who would pay the price.

When the day of the bid finally arrived, the details of the competing tanks shocked Gallieni even more. He reviewed the specifications:

Saint-Chamond: 90 horsepower, armed with a long-barrel 75mm gun and four machine guns, requiring nine crew members, combat weight of 27 tons, and a speed of 8.5 km/h.

CA-1: 61 horsepower, short-barrel 75mm gun, two machine guns, six crew members, combat weight of 14 tons, and a speed of 5 km/h.

Had Charles not warned him, Gallieni would have been just as swayed as everyone else by the impressive arsenal. Now, however, he saw the clear flaws. Yet the frenzy around these tanks was unstoppable. Even the soldiers in the testing crew believed they needed these tanks to feel safe and achieve victory.

Members of parliament were at each other's throats, debating fiercely, each side using technical specifications to support their arguments. In the end, both tanks received orders—400 units each, with a price tag of 21,000 francs for the Saint-Chamond and 12,000 francs for the CA-1.

Gallieni, unusually quiet throughout the proceedings, realized there was nothing he could do to change the outcome. Privately, he was aghast: Over 13 million francs spent on machines that would lead to defeat and the deaths of countless soldiers—it was utter madness. But he could only watch as it all unfolded.

For the first time, Gallieni almost wished Charles hadn't told him the truth.

In stark contrast to Gallieni's despair, Brad's estate was a scene of celebration. The sound of champagne glasses clinking filled the room.

Armand raised his glass, shouting, "A toast to Colonel Estienne! And to his tank!"

The others joined in, "To Colonel Estienne!"

For the conservative faction, there were no regrets. Winning even a partial order over Schneider had been an unprecedented victory. Usually, these lucrative deals went straight into the hands of their leftist rivals.

This wasn't just about money; it was a sign of the conservatives' resurgence, their influence within the military reestablished.

Yet Colonel Estienne himself was far from pleased. "The Saint-Chamond isn't even a tank—it's at best a mobile gun platform," he grumbled. "And yet it sold for more than ours!"

The others murmured agreement, smiling and nodding.

"A tank should be able to breach enemy lines," Estienne continued. "It should cut through barbed wire, cross trenches with infantry support, and eventually lead the assault to outflank enemy positions. The Saint-Chamond can't do any of that."

The guests nodded, though most didn't fully understand what he was saying. Estienne glanced over at Francis, the tank manufacturer, for validation.

"That's Schneider we're up against, Colonel," Francis replied. "You should be proud of what you've achieved."

Grevy chimed in, "The Saint-Chamond uses an electric drive system, allowing that massive beast to push forward at 8.5 km/h. Meanwhile, our tank is lighter but can only reach 5 km/h—we just can't match it!"

"Don't lose hope, Colonel!" Grevy raised his glass to Estienne. "One day, we'll outdo them!"

The guests joined in with toasts and cheers.

Though Estienne returned the toast, he couldn't hide his disappointment. What he wanted was a discussion on how tanks should be used in combat and what role they should play in the military.

Instead, these people spoke only of money, profit, and looked on at the Saint-Chamond's flawed design with admiration and envy. They didn't understand what a tank should be. They were not his kind of people; they'd never share his vision.

Estienne's thoughts drifted to Charles… perhaps that was the man he should have been working with.

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