Chapter 555: The Lavish Command Center
On the southern bank of the Somme River lay the command center of Nivelle's 6th Army Group.
Situated a full five kilometers from the frontline, it was a fortress constructed from reinforced concrete. The interior was spacious, encompassing more than 200 square meters, and included a communications room, operations room, and rest quarters—all fully equipped. There were more than 20 staff officers ranked colonel or higher.
The fortress also had a basement stocked with provisions, enough to sustain the command center's personnel, including its guards, for several months.
Charles wandered through the command center with Christine, examining it inside and out, his face filled with incredulity.
Christine shared his astonishment. Compared to his own frontline command center, this place was nothing short of paradise.
After completing their tour, Charles asked Major General Raymond, deputy commander of the Army Group, "Are you planning to turn this into a refuge?"
"No, General," replied Major General Raymond. "Considering the German 105mm artillery has a range of over ten kilometers, this command center is within its reach..."
Charles cut him off. "Then, has a single shell hit this command center?"
Major General Raymond hesitated, visibly embarrassed. "No, General, none."
"Of course not, Major General Raymond," Charles retorted. "This fortress is concealed behind high ground, well within a blind spot of enemy artillery. Furthermore, it's five kilometers from the frontline and six kilometers from enemy positions. If the German 105mm artillery could reach here, they would undoubtedly be within range of our own artillery!"
Seemingly missing Charles's point, Raymond smiled with pride. "You're absolutely correct, General. That's why this location is safe, perfectly suited for you to command without distraction!"
Charles was speechless.
At the frontlines, soldiers huddled in trenches of mud and water, enduring hunger and cold, only to be driven into no-man’s-land to fall under the enemy's machine guns and artillery.
Meanwhile, senior officers in the rear hid in luxury fortresses, layering on unnecessary protection.
The contrast within the same army was stark as heaven and earth.
"Major General Raymond," Charles said, "Parliament has appointed me as the commander of the 6th Army Group to manage all affairs here. You’ve received the telegram, haven’t you?"
"Yes, General," Raymond answered, standing at attention. "We are ready to follow your orders."
"Good." Charles seated himself in the chair that had once belonged to Nivelle and said calmly, "You are all relieved of your duties. Return to Paris to await investigation!"
Raymond was stunned. "Me?"
"Not just you," Charles corrected him. "All of you—every officer ranked major or higher."
Raymond was aghast, his tone both urgent and indignant. "Why? What reason do you have for doing this?"
"Supplies, Major General," Charles replied coolly. "Add to that dereliction of duty. Isn’t that enough?"
Raymond fell silent instantly.
In wartime, when resources were scarce, strict regulations governed supply allocations. Yet, the command center staff had access to resources dozens of times above normal allotments.
This alone was sufficient to convict them.
Moreover, Charles was certain many had smuggled supplies home to share with their families. These were military supplies—the rations of soldiers risking their lives on the frontlines!
Still, Raymond protested. "This isn’t fair, General. These supplies were acquired by General Nivelle from the British; they have nothing to do with us..."
"You can present your defense at the military tribunal," Charles interrupted, motioning to the guards. They promptly disarmed and escorted Raymond and the others out.
Once Raymond was removed, Christine voiced his concern. "General, the organization, logistics, and supply chains of the 6th Army Group are all managed by these people. If they are sent to Paris for trial, won't it disrupt our operations?"
Charles shook his head lightly. "Do you know why the soldiers at the front mutinied?"
Christine was puzzled. "Wasn’t it due to meaningless offensives?"
Charles gestured to the surroundings.
"That’s only part of it, General. The bigger reason is this."
"Commanders hiding in the safest locations, feasting on fine food and wine, while ordering starving, freezing soldiers to charge into enemy fire and die."
"The fact that they haven’t stormed this command center and dragged those officers to the gallows speaks volumes about their restraint!"
Christine nodded in understanding.
Charles wasn’t targeting Raymond and his cohorts over "minor corruption" but to demonstrate to the mutinous soldiers that change was coming. Officers would stand with their troops, not against them.
...
Indeed, news of Charles dismissing all officers ranked major and above from the Army Group’s command spread quickly:
"Not one or two, but every officer—all sent to military tribunals by Charles."
"They discovered tons of flour, hundreds of bottles of wine, and even personal chefs in the command center."
"Charles is different from other officers. He’s always with the soldiers. That’s one reason he always wins battles!"
...
This was only the first step.
Next, Charles used his personal wealth to procure essential supplies for the frontlines, including raincoats, boots, blankets for the rainy and winter seasons, fresh vegetables, and beef to improve their diet.
This effort cost Charles a significant sum. After all, the 6th Army Group on the Somme River comprised 13 divisions, totaling roughly 210,000 men. Providing sufficient supplies and food for such a vast force was no small task.
For anyone else, it might have been impossible—even with money, acquiring enough supplies on short notice would have required begging the British.
Charles succeeded because of prior arrangements: Djoka had followed his advice, converting earnings into U.S. dollars, thus avoiding the wave of franc devaluation.
Additionally, through FN’s subsidiaries, they had purchased large quantities of supplies from the United States, the Netherlands, and other nations, barely meeting the demands of the Somme River forces.
Charles believed it was worth it. The high-ranking parliamentarians would never understand the importance of grassroots support.
It represented the will of the people. Behind every soldier was a family holding its breath with worry. For 210,000 soldiers, there were 210,000 families.
Every bit of aid Charles provided was a lifeline, delivered at a moment of dire need, pulling them back from the brink of collapse.
Still, the mutinous soldiers remained wary:
The battle at the Somme was not yet over. If they regrouped and followed orders, would they once again be sent to die like before?