I was a tycoon in World War I: Starting to save France

(The picture above shows the French Gypsy cigarette, which was born in 1910. It is famous for its strong, powerful and irritating cigarettes. It was one of the two common cigarettes in France at that time, the other was French Gaul)

Paris, Carter Flying Club.

The messy office was filled with smoke, and amid the soulful and soft jazz music, Carter, who was full of beards, held half a cigarette between his fingers. The strong and pungent smoke of the gypsy kept rising from the burning black tobacco, and there was already a cigarette on the end. There was a long section of soot, crumbling.

But Carter's attention was always on the pen and paper he was calculating in his right hand.

Finally, the cigarette ashes broke and fell. Carter almost at the same time threw the pen on the table and cursed: "Damn it, I can't always settle the accounts!"

This is already the third time Carter has performed the calculation, but he has come up with four answers. The key is that each answer does not match the amount.

"I need an accountant!" Carter complained, putting the cigarette in his mouth and taking a few puffs. The tobacco shreds danced happily in the flames, releasing the smoke to his heart's content.

Carter exhaled a long puff of smoke and slumped on the chair like a bundle of straw, thinking about whether he was really suitable to run this club.

Now that I think about it, it was probably just an impulse when he started the flying club.

He dreamed of flying a plane in the sky and bringing home francs flying all over the sky, but the reality was that the house was full of broken parts and garbage everywhere, and even the club sign creaked in the cold wind.

"People in this era don't know what flying is!" Carter said with a sad look on his face.

What Carter is talking about is reality. In this era, almost everyone thinks that those who take to the sky in airplanes are "daredevils."

"They will always fall from the sky!" This is the most common comment people make about pilots.

Therefore, Carter could only convert the club into a dual-use military and civilian club. It accepted mission dispatches from the military, so that the equally impoverished pilots could get a small income here while the club was maintained.

Just as Carter was frustratedly thinking about the direction of his life, the roar of a car motor and the sounds of chaotic and hurried footsteps came from outside.

Soon, there was a knock on the door, and someone shouted: "Open the door, open the door! We are the French army!"

Carter stood up lazily, frowned and cursed: "Impolite guy..."

"Bang!" The door was knocked open, and several figures rushed in, with guns in their hands.

Carter panicked for a moment: "Hey, what do you want to do?"

He thought he was being robbed, but when he looked closely, he saw that they were all wearing military uniforms. They were indeed soldiers.

The fear in Carter's eyes instantly turned to anger: "Sir, this is my private property. If you want a plane, you should tell me in advance...and..."

Carter turned his eyes outside the door and found that at least a thousand soldiers had gathered on the runway, all of them loaded with weapons and ammunition as if they were facing the enemy. He was frightened on the spot.

"And what?" A second lieutenant strode in and stood in front of Carter.

"And..." Carter replied hesitantly: "Sorry, sir! I...I don't have that many planes. If you want to go somewhere, I can't take so many people!"

The second lieutenant hummed, took the newly found ID handed over by the soldier, shined a flashlight on it, and asked without raising his head: "The morning before yesterday, there was a plane here flying to Antwerp, do you remember this? "

Carter thought for a while and nodded: "Yes, what happened to the mission Eric took?"

Damn, there must be something wrong with Eric, Carter thought, he had already told him not to drink when he was on a mission!

"Who instigated you to do this?" the second lieutenant raised his head and asked, turning his head to the searching soldiers and reminding: "There may be information hidden in the cigarettes!"

The soldier immediately carefully put the cigarette into the document bag.

Carter was stunned for a long time without reacting: "What do you mean? Instruction? Intelligence?"

The second lieutenant raised his wrist and shined the flashlight on Carter's face, as if pointing a gun at Carter's head. He repeated what he had just said in a more serious tone: "Who ordered you to do this? It would be good for you to confess. Mr. Carter!"

"Isn't it a mission?" Carter thought there must be some misunderstanding: "I just... do what you want..."

"You didn't know that the person sending it was Charles?" the second lieutenant asked again.

Carter replied: "I don't know, sir! They said it was a secret mission and didn't let me ask..."

Suddenly Carter realized something, his expression froze on his face: "What? Charles? You mean Charles who invented the tank? He was the passenger that day?"

The second lieutenant said "hmm" and the corners of his mouth raised slightly: "You finally remembered!"

"No, sir!" Carter's eyes were full of fear: "I don't know he is Charles. If I knew, I would never send him to Antwerp. Only a fool would do this, unless I was crazy..."

But the second lieutenant didn't listen to Carter's excuse at all. He raised his hand and waved vigorously and ordered: "Take him away!"

Several soldiers couldn't help but escort Carter away, and it was useless to let Carter complain all the way.

The second lieutenant looked at the long list in his hand under the aperture of the flashlight. After confirming that it was correct, he ran through the team, came to an open car, stood at attention, saluted, and reported: "All suspects are under control, general!"

Gallieni said "hmm".

The reason why he arrested people now was because he didn't want to make too much noise to let the outside world know about it. After all, the Germans only suspected that Charles was in Antwerp.

If the Germans knew that Gallieni had arrested the person in charge of the airport, their "suspicion" would immediately turn into "confirmation", which was obviously not good for Charles.

Now that Charles was on his way to Paris, he could catch these guys in one fell swoop without any scruples.

Gallieni used a flashlight to shine on the map in front of him and asked a series of questions in a deep voice:

"Have the surrounding roads been blocked?"

"Are all the torches in place?"

"Have the commanding heights been checked?"

Major General Monouri stepped forward and answered: "Everything is arranged, General!"

In order to welcome Charles, Gallieni deployed an infantry brigade of more than 7,000 people in the flying club. He was even worried that someone would use a machine gun on the commanding heights to shoot down Charles' plane.

Gallieni said "hmm" and stepped out of the car. He tightened his windbreaker and called out without looking back: "Laurent!"

Major Laurent immediately appeared beside him: "Yes, General!"

Galieni said expressionlessly: "Do you know what to do now?"

"Yes, General!" Laurent quickly stepped forward to respond: "Follow Charles, don't leave for a step!"

Laurent could not forget the two days of confinement, and he could not forget the look and words Gallieni said to him at that time.

"I trust you so I let you be responsible for Charles' safety!" Gallieni's eyes were fierce, like looking at an enemy, and he wanted to pull Laurent out and shoot him: "But you let them take Charles away under my nose, do you know what this means? Do you know what this means to France? Do you know what it means to the army?"

Laurent was sweating profusely, and he even believed that if something happened to Charles and he couldn't come back, he might spend his whole life in the confinement room without any room for bargaining.

Fortunately, this did not happen! Thank God, Charles will be back soon!

Laurent was almost moved to tears!