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

Chapter 90 - The Le Prieur Rocket

The flight squadron's facilities were rudimentary; they didn't even have a proper briefing room, so the meeting was held in Major Fisher's small office.

The cramped space quickly filled with a dozen pilots, one of whom was Eric. His presence filled the room with the stench of alcohol and sweat, causing several pilots to wrinkle their noses in disgust. Ironically, Charles, their commanding officer, was nearly invisible among them, as he was just a teenager.

Sitting confidently in Major Fisher's chair, Charles pointed to the map, explaining, "Big Bertha is here, eleven kilometers east of Fort Wavre. Our objective is to destroy it!"

His words caused an uproar in the office, and soon several pilots voiced their objections:

"No, Lieutenant! We need orders from General Ghys!"

"Yes, this is war, not a joke!"

"We'd be throwing our lives away under the command of a…"

Although they didn't finish the sentence, everyone knew what they meant. They didn't trust Charles. Even Major Fisher remained silent.

Eric, however, said nothing; he just watched Charles quietly, knowing that his plan was unlikely to be so straightforward.

Charles understood the situation perfectly. If he had assigned them a simple reconnaissance mission, something within an acceptable level of risk, they would have accepted his command without question. But bombing Big Bertha seemed like a suicide mission to them. Entrusting such a task to a mere boy was absurd!

Ignoring their grumbling, Charles continued sketching his plan on the map.

"We'll encounter German interceptors, who will try to ram your planes," he explained. "Evade them and draw them here…"

He circled a point on the map, marking it like a key point on a school assignment.

"There's an enemy observation balloon here. Destroy it. The fire from the explosion will draw everyone's attention, and then…"

Fisher couldn't help interrupting, "Wait, sir. How are we supposed to destroy an enemy observation balloon?"

At that time, destroying a balloon from the air was nearly impossible. Although the balloons were large, there were no effective weapons to bring them down.

One of the pilots muttered sarcastically, "Does he think we just need to aim a rifle at it, pull the trigger, and pop it like an ordinary balloon?"

"We might even hear it go 'pop'!" another chimed in.

The room filled with stifled laughter. Though they didn't dare mock Charles too openly, their expressions and chuckles clearly showed their disdain.

Eric rolled his eyes, crossing his legs impatiently. These fools. Do they think the inventor of the tank, the one who saved Paris, would come up with something so simplistic? Charles is going to teach them a real lesson in strategy.

Fisher glanced at the Royal Order of the Crown on Charles's chest and felt he couldn't treat someone of his achievements with outright dismissal. So he explained with restrained patience, "Sir, balloons aren't easy targets."

"They have multiple internal compartments, like watertight bulkheads on a ship. Rifle and even machine-gun bullets can barely damage them."

Someone added, "All a bullet does is make a small hole. The balloon might leak a bit, but it could complete its mission and land for repairs afterward."

"Yes, and it'd be back up in the air within a few hours," another chimed in.

Without looking up, Charles calmly replied, "What about Congreve rockets?"

The room fell silent, with everyone exchanging uncertain glances. They had no idea how to respond.

Eric let out a hearty laugh, loudly scolding the Belgian officers and soldiers. "You idiots! All you think of are bullets and shells, and you forget all about Congreve rockets. You only just received them, and you didn't think of that?"

Fisher looked embarrassed; Eric was talking about him. He had just put a batch of rockets in the warehouse, dismissing them as outdated weapons that had been obsolete for fifty years. Yet he hadn't thought of using them against the balloons!

After considering it for a moment, Fisher nodded slowly.

"This could work. I mean, it has a high chance of success."

"We all know those balloons are full of hydrogen. If a rocket hits one…"

"Good Lord, it'd turn into a fireball instantly!"

The more Fisher considered it, the more convinced he became that this was a brilliant idea bound to succeed. But someone else raised a new concern:

"How can we carry the rockets on the planes and launch them?"

"Plus, the rocket might just bounce off the balloon's surface without puncturing it."

Charles calmly addressed each concern:

"Mounting the rockets on the plane is easy. Just secure them to the struts between the wings."

"Penetrating the balloon's outer layer isn't hard, either. Attach a blade to the tip of the rocket—it'll slice through the balloon's skin instead of bouncing off."

Eric laughed again, looking around with a smug expression as he sneered, "A bunch of fools! Now you can see what French ingenuity looks like!"

The Belgian pilots, though embarrassed by his insult, couldn't help but feel excited. This was for Belgium, after all, and no one would turn down a chance at victory.

Besides, they were about to attempt bombing balloons from the air—something unprecedented in history. This battle could end up in the record books, making them heroes forever!

The pilots' gazes toward Charles shifted, now filled with awe and admiration. They could hardly believe that this young man had devised such a clever plan, repurposing forgotten equipment left to gather dust in the warehouse.

Still sitting confidently at Fisher's desk, Charles didn't think any of this was worth boasting about.

It wasn't even his original idea. Two years later, a French air force lieutenant named Le Prieur would invent this method. Using the same technique, Le Prieur added sharp blades to rocket tips and mounted them on the struts of a biplane. From 1916 to 1918, hundreds of observation balloons were destroyed using this approach.

The method would only become obsolete with the invention of incendiary rounds for machine guns, finally making Le Prieur's rockets redundant.

(End of Chapter)

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