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

Chapter 91 - Uniting the Pilots

Major Fisher was the first to notice a potential problem. He looked at Charles uncertainly and asked, "Sir, if the rockets are mounted on the vertical struts of a biplane, does that mean… only biplanes can carry them?"

"Yes," Charles nodded.

Only biplanes had the vertical struts needed to support the rockets. Monoplanes lacked space, and their linen-covered surfaces made them highly susceptible to being burned or even ignited by the rockets' exhaust. This was why Charles had been disappointed upon seeing the "Taube" monoplanes in the hangar.

Fisher and the other pilots quickly began to look troubled. They had only two biplanes, and with Eric's Avro, they had just three in total. Fisher now understood why Charles had insisted on Eric joining the mission.

But with only three planes equipped with rockets to destroy both the balloon and Big Bertha, the plan seemed hardly feasible. Some of the pilots started hesitating:

"Maybe just destroying the balloon is enough. Without it, Big Bertha won't have accurate targeting."

"Yes, we don't really need to destroy Big Bertha itself if we take out its 'eyes'!"

"And besides, Congreve rockets aren't very precise. They're fine for hitting a large target like a balloon, but aiming them at Big Bertha would be much harder!"

These arguments were self-serving. The observation balloon wasn't truly Big Bertha's "eyes"—it was only a supplementary tool. Even without it, the artillery crews could still use binoculars and estimate distances to adjust their aim.

Charles listened in silence, saying nothing.

Eric, however, could hold his tongue no longer and sneered, "A bunch of cowards and weaklings!"

The remark stung, and the Belgian pilots glared at him, one even issuing a warning. "Watch your mouth, Frenchman. The people you're calling cowards are the ones holding off the Germans alone!"

"Oh, really?" Eric shot back. "Then that's others, gentlemen—not you! You just want to blow up a balloon so the king will give you medals, right?"

Eric then mimicked them in a high-pitched, mocking tone: "Oh, we blew up the balloon! We stopped the German bombardment! We're so amazing! You should reward us…"

Before he could finish, one of the pilots started to lunge at him but was held back by the others.

Unperturbed, Eric raised his chin defiantly and continued, "What's wrong? Did I hit a nerve? Just admit it, you clowns!"

Charles remained silent, letting the confrontation play out.

Eric might have been blunt, but he was right. The Belgian pilots were indeed seeking an easy way to earn a commendable victory, then withdraw with minimal risk. From their perspective, blowing up the German balloon was a significant feat—why should they risk their lives for anything more?

Destroying Big Bertha would require bravery and sacrifice, which they weren't ready to give. But Eric was different; he was committed to going all the way, even if it meant flying one of the few rocket-equipped biplanes that the Germans would surely target.

Looking at the heated group, Charles finally spoke, his voice calm yet resolute. "If we don't destroy Big Bertha by nightfall, Fort Wavre might not last until tomorrow."

"What?"

"That can't be true!"

"Why?"

The room fell silent as the pilots turned to Charles, all looking puzzled.

Major Fisher voiced his doubts, "Sir, Big Bertha has never launched nighttime attacks…"

"That was before," Charles replied, adding quietly, "In the past, daylight offered far better visibility than nighttime. But now?"

Realization dawned on Fisher. "We've used smoke. The Germans can't see clearly even during the day!"

"Exactly," Charles confirmed. "If they can't see any better in the daytime, then why not attack at night? Day or night, it's all the same now. And with only one Big Bertha left, they have more shells to spare."

Fisher nodded thoughtfully. With the ammunition from three guns now concentrated on just one, the Germans would certainly have enough to sustain nighttime bombardment.

Eric chuckled. "I'd rather not be kept up all night by their artillery."

He glanced around. "Anyone got any booze?"

No one responded, though a few looked at him in disbelief. How could he think of drinking now?

Fisher checked his watch, his face pale. "So… we only have three hours left!"

Charles coldly added, "And you're still debating whether to destroy Big Bertha."

His words stilled the room, and the pilots who had been hesitating looked especially ashamed.

"The fate of Antwerp is in your hands, gentlemen," Charles said in a relaxed tone, though his words weighed heavily. "It's up to you—tens of thousands of lives, Belgium's future, including your families and friends."

The room grew quiet. Only Eric continued rummaging about, seemingly unconcerned.

After a few moments, one of the pilots spoke up:

"We're with you, Sir."

"What are your orders?"

"We'll follow your plan!"

Charles turned his gaze to Eric, who was still poking around aimlessly.

Sensing Charles's eyes on him, Eric shrugged and spread his hands. "What? I've been on your side this whole time!"

Charles smiled. "Uncle Eric, I need to know if you'll work with the others."

Eric cast a glance at the pilots around him and smirked. "Work with these cowards? I'd rather do it alone."

"Forgive us, sir," one of the Belgian pilots said, "You're right—we need to take out Big Bertha."

"Sir, you're fighting for Belgium, and we're grateful."

"You're brave, and we'd be honored to fight alongside you!"

"I'm not buying it!" Eric interrupted their heartfelt apologies. "You'll just end up getting me killed!"

The pilots were at a loss—he wouldn't accept praise or apology.

Finally, one of them had an idea and secretly took out a flask of liquor, offering it to Eric.

Eric accepted it, gave it a shake, opened the cap, and sniffed. Instantly, he seemed satisfied, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Fine, fine! Blowing things up isn't so bad. Let's get on with it!"

The pilots shared a laugh, finally united in purpose.

Charles looked on, pleased. Uniting the pilots as a team was a crucial first step in executing the plan.

His strategy would require all the pilots to work together seamlessly, even if it meant sacrificing themselves to protect others. Without a shared sense of purpose and selflessness, the plan would be impossible to pull off.

(End of Chapter)

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