I Became a Plutocrat in World War I: Starting with Saving France-Chapter 100: The Use of Tractors

However, when Camille pulled Dejoka along to put their ideas into action, they found that things were not so simple. freeweɓnøvel.com

Dejoka held the phone and asked, "Please connect me to the City Defense Headquarters; we want to speak with General Gallieni!"

A sweet and professional voice came from the other end of the line: "Sorry, you don’t have the permission!"

"I’m Shire’s father; he works there!" Dejoka was still unwilling to give up: "I want to ask about Shire!"

"Sorry, sir!" The operator replied unhurriedly: "Shire himself must provide the password for me to connect you!"

Dejoka gently put down the phone, glanced at Camille standing beside him, and said helplessly: "The headquarters belongs to the military’s internal network; it’s not something we can easily get through!"

This was not Gallieni putting on airs, but if everyone could easily call into the headquarters, the communications would likely be paralyzed the moment a war began.

"Then how about the parliament?" Camille was unwilling to give up: "They made the decision; if they violate it, do they not care?"

Dejoka spread his hands: "Camille, we can’t even get into the parliament, let alone figure out which of the many members we should approach!"

This question stumped Camille. Could they possibly summon the members for a meeting?

This is the gap between upper and lower society: the lower society indeed has freedom of speech, but in times of trouble, they don’t even know who or where to plead their case!

Dejoka looked towards Shire’s bedroom and said, "Unless we wake Shire up, that way we can talk to the General..."

Camille gently shook her head; she didn’t want to disturb Shire’s rest.

The two were somewhat helpless, realizing that what Shire could easily achieve seemed almost impossible for them.

At this moment, the phone rang. Dejoka picked it up and shortly after, his eyes widened: "General Gallieni!"

Camille grabbed the phone and identified herself; she had a lot of questions to ask.

However, a sincere apology came from Gallieni on the other end:

"I am very sorry, Madam Bernard! This is my responsibility!"

"Please believe me; I did not do this intentionally. It was a mistake, an accident."

"For certain reasons, I cannot explain the details, but please trust that it won’t happen again!"

"I will protect Shire, with my honor and integrity as a guarantee!"

...

Camille suddenly didn’t know what to say; she even felt reassured entrusting Shire to Gallieni.

Seeing Camille put down the phone, Dejoka shrugged.

He stopped at the doorway, turned back to lock his gaze on Shire’s bedroom, and increased his volume as if to bid farewell to Camille: "I need to go to work!"

The next second, Shire opened the door and rushed out: "Wait for me, Father!"

Camille saw that Shire hadn’t even changed out of his military uniform and immediately understood what was happening, but it was too late. Shire quickly ran down the stairs, and before Camille could catch up, he rushed out and climbed into the car, with Camille’s angry shout trailing behind: "Shire..."

Dejoka started the car with a smile, proudly saying to Shire: "I knew you weren’t resting!"

...

Shire took a trip to the tractor factory.

Under the joint management of Joseph and Dejoka, the development of "Mark 1" was progressing smoothly, and the "Holt 75" tractor had also entered the production process.

Dejoka was somewhat puzzled by this. As he toured the factory with Shire, he casually asked: "I understand why we need to produce tanks; we can sell them to the military. But producing tractors... you know the current sales for tractors are bad, and it’s likely to continue for a long time!"

This was determined by the war. As long as the war did not cease, farmers would always be anxious and uncertain about being conscripted into the army, and no one would be willing to buy tractors.

"It will be useful!" Shire replied.

"Who can we sell the tractors to?" Dejoka asked: "In two weeks, we will be able to produce the first batch of tractors. According to the current scale and speed, we could produce around 100 units per month!"

Dejoka was worried that these tractors would be left to rust in the warehouse while the factory continued to produce new ones incessantly.

"It’s October now!" Shire answered: "France’s rainy season is about to begin and will last until April next year!"

Dejoka listened with a confused expression: "What does that have to do with tractors?"

"Of course it does!" Shire looked at the busy workers and replied: "Rainy season, muddy ground, artillery..."

"Artillery?" Dejoka suddenly understood; their clients were the military, the French Army!

The French Army’s artillery was drawn by horses, which might not be an issue now. But when the rainy season came and the ground became muddy, using horses to pull artillery would be difficult and dangerous, especially uphill.

At that time...

"Oh my God!" Dejoka said: "The military might need a large number of tractors to haul artillery to the frontline!"

"Not just artillery!" Shire said calmly: "There’s also supply transportation. A tracked tractor can navigate muddy grounds easily. A high-powered tractor can also attach a trailer to ensure the ammunition and supplies reach the frontline!"

"Absolutely!" Dejoka’s eyes widened as he looked around: "Then... producing 100 units a month may far from meet the military’s demand!"

Dejoka then frowned: "We should hurry production and scale up, or else the military will have to buy Francis’s ’Holt 60’—they have inventory!"

Shire shook his head: "No matter how much we work overtime or scale up production, we can’t catch up with the impending demand from the military, Father!"

"What to do then?" Dejoka lowered his voice: "This would be a huge business for Francis. They just sold a batch of tanks, and soon their inventory of thousands of tractors will be bought by the military..."

Shire stared at Dejoka without speaking.

Dejoka immediately thought: If they buy Francis’s tractors at a low price and then resell them to the military at a higher price, the profit would go entirely into their pockets, and Francis would perfectly miss the opportunity.

"Good idea, Shire!" Dejoka nodded: "Good idea!"

Then Dejoka fell silent, his face gradually turning somber; after all, Francis was his father.

"The decision is yours, Father!" Shire said: "Buy, or not to buy!"

This wasn’t a big deal for Shire, though the profit was significant. Buying all of Francis’s inventory and selling it later to the military could easily earn over a million francs, perhaps even more.

But Shire could earn that money in other ways as well.

More importantly, Shire wanted to know if Dejoka was ready to break ties with Francis.

They would have to face such a question sooner or later!