Chapter 506: Rifle Design
Charles thought that Major General Avis would put on a show of power in front of him, or at least give a pompous lecture, but to his surprise, nothing of the sort happened.
When Charles and Tigani stepped forward to salute him, Major General Avis casually returned the salute and said, expressionless, "I’ve already toured the airport with His Majesty. You’ve done well. The battlefield needs commanders like you! Keep up the good work. Soon, the Germans will be crushed under our feet!"
Major General Avis exchanged a few more pleasantries with the two of them, and before he could even finish his cup of coffee, he left in a hurry.
Charles looked at King Albert I in confusion; this must be his doing.
King Albert I shrugged his hands, looking innocent. "I had nothing to do with it, Major. I simply told him that this is Belgium, and perhaps he’s realized that."
Charles rolled his eyes—this was an admission.
Tigani, recalling the first special reconnaissance army and the airport guard force that King Albert I had begun forming a few days ago, immediately understood what was going on. He chuckled and said, "Why do I get the feeling this is a plot? Your Majesty, you must have done a lot of preparation for today, didn’t you?"
King Albert I replied earnestly, "No, no, this wasn’t planned, absolutely not."
He raised his hand in a solemn gesture. "I swear, I had no idea he would come today."
Charles and Tigani exchanged a knowing smile. This might have been the only true statement King Albert I had made.
...
Although King Albert I had shielded Charles from British interference, Charles didn’t think that meant he was safe.
The British had command in Antwerp, and even had command over the French forces, though indirectly, as they controlled Nivelle and thus held sway over the French army.
Though this "control" was quite limited, as Nivelle had to answer to the French Parliament, and if the Parliament grew dissatisfied with him, they could oust him just as easily as they had removed Joffre.
However, the Parliament didn’t understand military matters.
When it came to planning operations, whatever Nivelle said went.
Charles ran through his situation in his mind: The British didn’t want his achievements to overshadow the entire British army, and the French old generals didn’t want that either, while the Parliament didn’t want military dictatorship.
They could all be considered his enemies.
Thus, the operational plans they came up with could never benefit him! Charles believed he couldn’t hold on to any illusions and had to prepare for the worst.
"I’m going to Ghent," Charles said, standing up while casually grabbing some paper and a pen.
"Ghent?" Tigani looked at Charles's retreating figure in confusion, then suddenly smiled knowingly. "You must be going to see your future father-in-law and mother-in-law. A clever fellow, I underestimated him!"
...
Ghent, Belgium’s third-largest city, derived its name from the Celtic word "Ganda," meaning "confluence of rivers." The Scheldt River and the Lys River meet there, making it a wealthy trading city thanks to its convenient transportation.
Located in the eastern suburbs of Ghent, a few kilometers south of the Antwerp road and near Dampoort Station, the FN Factory was situated here.
Browning had an independent laboratory within the factory. Dominique was surprised to find that Browning’s laboratory was far more modest than his own; many of the tools were manual and quite old, and the staff consisted of only a handful of assistants.
Perhaps noticing the surprise in Dominique’s eyes, Browning coldly remarked, "Gun design isn’t about machines, it’s about ideas and analysis!"
He pointed to his head. "Without ideas, no matter how advanced the machinery is, it’s all in vain."
Dominique nodded, fully understanding this point.
Browning casually hung his coat and hat on a rack, sat at his desk, and began drawing on a sheet of paper, speaking as he worked.
"I know who you are, Steed’s youngest son. You’re likely to inherit the Saint-Étienne factory one day."
"But there’s one thing I want you to understand."
"When you step into the laboratory, you’re nobody. You’re just my assistant, understand?"
Browning paused, lifting his head to look at Dominique with a questioning gaze.
"Understood, sir," Dominique replied nervously.
Browning seemed to sense Dominique’s anxiety and reassured him, "Relax. We’re designing guns, not taking them to the battlefield."
A few of the assistants nearby chuckled, making Dominique feel somewhat embarrassed.
What Browning didn’t know was that Dominique was nervous not because of the guns, but because he was worried he wouldn’t be able to handle the job.
As they began the design work, Browning found himself in a dilemma: He first considered modifying the BAR, which would allow him to meet the requirements for a semi-automatic rifle, keep compatibility with the BAR, and save a lot of time.
But he quickly realized that this wouldn’t reduce the weight sufficiently.
A semi-automatic rifle could further shorten the barrel.
The magazine capacity could be reduced, but how much was ideal? Five rounds? Eight rounds? Or ten rounds? This was one of the toughest parts of gun design; many factors couldn’t simply be imagined—they had to align with battlefield needs, and ultimately, it was the "users," the soldiers on the frontlines, who decided what worked.
And all of this required a great deal of time for testing, modification, feedback, and then more testing...
For now, he’d have to create a sample rifle first.
As Browning thought, he sketched on the paper.
Dominique, meanwhile, was familiarizing himself with the equipment with the other assistants. As he passed by, he couldn’t help but glance at Browning’s sketch and offered, "Sir, if we want to reduce the weight, I think we could eliminate the magazine."
Browning was taken aback; it seemed like a good idea. If the ammo count was ten rounds, why not switch to a double-stack internal magazine?
Browning nodded slightly, immediately crossing out the magazine from his sketch.
At that moment, an assistant hurried up after answering the phone and reported, "Sir, Charles is here, he says he needs to see you."
Browning was startled. "Just a few days have passed. He doesn’t think designing a brand new rifle is that easy, does he?"
Dominique sighed internally. "Sir, I don’t think Charles is here for a rifle. He’s probably here to give us his design."
"What?" Browning looked at Dominique in shock. "You mean Charles has already designed it?"
Dominique nodded. "It’s very likely."
Browning laughed. "That’s impossible. He doesn’t even have a laboratory. He’s been busy commanding the army..."
"Sir," Dominique replied helplessly, "He designed the ‘Saint-Étienne 2’ machine gun under similar circumstances, and even came up with the concept for the submachine gun."
"Submachine gun?"
Dominique suddenly realized he had let something slip; at this time, the submachine gun was still a military secret.