I Became a Plutocrat in World War I: Starting with Saving France

Chapter 577: After modification - 577 Natural Law

Jangbulu Frontline, one hour left until the Christmas Eve offensive.

In the trench occupied by the First Specialized Artillery Division, Major General Kristin sat on a snow-covered ammunition box, letting the medic bandage his head wound.

He had just stuck his head out to observe the terrain when the enemy, clearly reacting to the sunlight reflecting off his binoculars, fired a burst of machine gun bullets at his position.

One of the bullets grazed his forehead, creating a deep, bone-revealing gash.

"General," the medic said, still shaken, "if it had been off by a half inch, it would have gone through your right eye."

Kristin was unfazed; there were no "ifs" on the battlefield.

If you’re not dead, you’re not dead. If you’re alive, you continue to endure this world’s suffering.

"Do you believe in natural law?" Kristin asked abruptly.

The medic was taken aback, answering while working, "Sort of, General. But this has nothing to do with natural law."

Kristin continued speaking to himself:

"You should believe, just like summer is hot and winter is cold, things we can’t decide or change."

"If you don’t give these laws the necessary respect, and try to defy or bypass them to take too much."

"Then you are bound to suffer retribution from these laws!"

The medic obediently finished his work, not understanding a word.

Kristin offered no further explanation, his face solemn and eyes fierce. He put on his general’s hat and walked back down the communication trench. Blood from his wound dripped down his forehead like sweat, but he was oblivious.

After rounding two bends, Kristin arrived at a relatively spacious reserve trench, where the officers of the First Specialized Artillery Division had gathered.

(Note: A reserve trench is usually located behind high ground or hills, within a dead zone from enemy artillery, and is relatively safe.)

There were two brigadiers and four colonels, along with several staff officers.

Almost all of them were new; Kristin had only learned their names a few days ago.

Kristin subtly inquired and found out that most were relatives of capitalists or parliament members, or their trusted followers.

The key was they were proud of it and often boasted about it to others.

"Gentlemen!" Major General Kristin stood before the officers. "I believe you already know what kind of offensive we will undertake tonight."

The officers responded lazily:

"Yes, General."

"It’s a simple task."

"We don’t need to capture the enemy’s defense line, which means we can order the soldiers to retreat at any time!"

...

Major General Kristin’s gaze turned icy as he stared at the officers and said calmly:

"But now there is a problem."

"As you know, there was a mutiny not long ago that included the First Artillery Division."

"The soldiers are very resistant to the offensive plan..."

A brigadier interrupted Kristin: "What are you trying to say, General? That’s one of the reasons the higher-ups set this ’simple task’. Can’t we accomplish such a simple task?"

Kristin remembered him; he was Clemenceau’s nephew, named Gezavier.

Such an important unit as the First Specialized Artillery Division naturally required a high-ranking officer to "monitor" and "control".

Gezavier was that person.

"Yes," another brigadier concurred. "Moreover, we’re already dealing with the undisciplined ones. I don’t see a problem."

The speaker was an in-law of the Gurney Food Manufacturing Group, named Godrova. In this time of material shortage, his status rose rapidly.

Kristin nodded impassively:

"It’s not that it can’t be done, gentlemen."

"But we should consider that the soldiers mutinied because the officers always blew the whistle from the safety of the trenches."

"So, they compare themselves to ’sheep’ and the officers to ’shepherds’."

The officers chuckled as if proud of their roles as "shepherds".

Major General Kristin continued:

"If we keep doing this, it clearly won’t work."

"We’ll be endlessly dealing with ’undisciplined guys’."

"Do you understand what I mean?"

The officers were silent for a moment before nodding one after another.

Kristin continued:

"Since this is a simple task, meaning we can walk around the battlefield and return at any time,"

"Besides, we have tanks, and the tanks will block enemy bullets and protect our safety."

"Then why not let them see that the ’shepherds’ also have the courage to go on the battlefield, not just hide in the trenches to save their lives!"

Major General Kristin glanced at the officers and added, "At least, that’s what I’m going to do!"

After saying this, he wiped the increasing blood from his forehead and waved to the officers: "I’ve already done it; you’re free to choose!"

With that, he gave the officers a contemptuous smile, turned, and walked towards the frontline, leaving the others at a loss.

After a while, Gezavier got up to follow, but Godrova stopped him.

"Are you really going to the battlefield?" Godrova asked, his eyes full of fear.

"He’s right," Gezavier replied. "If we hide in the trenches while driving the soldiers to the battlefield, what do you think they’ll think of us? Didn’t you notice?"

Since they joined the unit, they had sensed the hostility and contempt in the soldiers’ eyes. Gezavier hoped to change that.

Gezavier continued: "This might be our chance. Think about it, low-intensity combat, we just need to go around and come back, we can retreat at any time."

"Yes," someone echoed. "This isn’t the River Somme."

"And it’s not Verdun," someone added. "Verdun didn’t allow retreats; the supervision squads at the rear aimed the machine guns!"

"Major General Kristin has gone up," someone said with a look of shame. "If we don’t go up, what will we become?"

These words instantly broke everyone’s defenses.

Everyone above and below them was going to the battlefield, except for these inserted officers who hoped to command and control the unit while staying behind. Was that even possible?

"Come on!" Gezavier patted Godrova on the shoulder, comforting him: "Nothing will happen. We have tanks, the ’Shire A1’."

Godrova could only nod in agreement, though he was still so nervous that he was short of breath and pale-faced.

The officers followed Gezavier towards the frontline. They found Kristin at the front of the trench and reported: "We will go on the offensive with the soldiers, General."

"Very well!" Major General Kristin turned his head and cast them an approving look: "Then, find your units. The attack is about to begin!"

The officers obeyed orders and dispersed.

Major General Kristin turned his gaze back to the front, muttering, "War is cruel, gentlemen!"