Chapter 554: Don't You Want to Ask for Something for Yourselves?
The bearded lieutenant had laid a trap, waiting for Charles to fall into it.
Among common soldiers and the civilian population, deep-seated resentment toward capitalists ran strong. From childhood, many had been exploited by them—abused, underpaid, overlooked. Their hatred had built up over years.
Such frost doesn't form in a single night. For people who had suffered so long, believing a capitalist could be "good" was almost impossible. Charles was no exception.
They believed everything Charles had done—his donations, his victories, his inventions—was part of a carefully calculated plan to win public support:
"All that money and material meant nothing to a capitalist, but it bought him the people."
"Yes, he wins battles and builds weapons, but that success also brings him wealth."
"This is all a foundation for power. Charles is the smartest of them all—he knows how to manipulate the public!"
…
This way of thinking was common.
The bearded lieutenant believed it too. He was convinced Charles had ulterior motives.
This time, he was sure: Charles wanted to replace Nivelle as the Commander-in-Chief of the French and Allied forces.
So the bearded man had made up his mind. If Charles accepted the "Commander-in-Chief" title when offered, it would prove his ambition. That he was just like the rest of the capitalist elite—only better at hiding it.
And if that were true, the mutiny couldn't end. Because afterward, there would be consequences. Retaliations. Trials. Executions. Their lives and honor were at stake.
(Note: Historically, over 20,000 soldiers were punished after the French Army mutinies, with many ringleaders executed.)
But Charles didn't hesitate for even a second. He shook his head firmly:
"No. I don't believe I should be Commander-in-Chief."
The bearded lieutenant froze. He hadn't expected Charles to refuse—and certainly not so quickly or so decisively.
The other soldiers, who lacked the same suspicious nature, immediately looked disappointed.
"Why not?"
"Did Parliament reject it?"
"We'll support you, General! We'll fight for it!"
…
"No, gentlemen," Charles said. "You don't understand what that position really means. The Commander-in-Chief must answer to Parliament—and to the British."
The soldiers paused. Some nodded, murmuring to each other:
"If Charles becomes Commander-in-Chief, he'll have to follow Parliament's orders."
"And the British. They'll still pressure him by controlling the supply lines."
"He won't have the freedom he has now—to seize opportunities and strike where the enemy is weakest."
"Makes sense. If he's Commander-in-Chief, every move has to go through Parliament. And Parliament leaks like a sieve."
"Exactly. As soon as they approve a plan, the Germans will hear about it within a day."
Since the Grévy betrayal scandal, it was no secret that Parliament was full of leaks.
That was one reason the entire building was currently under lockdown. Not by Charles's hand, but by a proposal he submitted—and which Parliament approved.
They all knew that secrecy couldn't be trusted. And news of a massive mutiny was the last thing they could afford to let reach German ears. It would destroy France.
For once, even the divided Parliament voted unanimously:
No one could leave the Bourbon Palace. No contact with outsiders.
The lockdown would remain in effect until Charles resolved the crisis at the Somme.
…
Charles continued:
"And think about this—if I become Commander-in-Chief with your support, what do you think Parliament will do?"
"They'll see me as a threat."
"Because if I can use your support to demand one position today… I could use it to demand anything tomorrow."
"What do you think that looks like to them?"
The soldiers looked at one another in stunned silence.
They had only wanted to support Charles. They hadn't realized they were walking straight into what they'd always feared: dictatorship.
"I won't do that," Charles said firmly. "Yes, Parliament has made plenty of mistakes. But I still believe it represents France's freedom and justice. We should protect this system—not destroy it. Don't you agree?"
It was, of course, a bit of a lie.
Charles knew exactly what Parliament was: a battleground for competing capitalist interests.
But the people of France had been fed decades of propaganda. They believed in parliamentary democracy. They believed it was freedom. That it was the right system.
So Charles had to say what they needed to hear.
Even with all his achievements and popularity, if he acted otherwise, he could easily become another General Boulanger—once loved, then abandoned.
That was the real danger. Parliament excelled at seizing the moral high ground.
But Charles's words instantly won the soldiers over.
"He's a commander worth respecting. He could've taken total power—but he didn't."
"He gave it up. Power, position, wealth—he turned it all down."
"This is the spirit of France! He's the commander we need. Our hope!"
…
The bearded lieutenant was stunned.
He had imagined many answers—even that Charles might fake a refusal to look good.
But he never expected Charles to say what he said.
And by doing so, Charles had burned the bridge behind him. He'd made it impossible to use the mutineers to seize power. That made him… real.
A true soldier. A general—and maybe even a capitalist—who genuinely fought for the people.
Charles spread his hands and looked around the trench. "Any other questions?"
Then his gaze landed back on the bearded lieutenant.
"None, General," the man replied quietly. "At least… not from me."
"You're sure?" Charles asked again, sweeping his eyes over the other representatives. "Don't you want to ask for anything for yourselves?"
The bearded man and Captain Jérémy exchanged glances, then shook their heads.
"No, General," Jérémy said.
"Thank you, General," the bearded lieutenant added, his voice filled with sincerity. At last, he fully believed in Charles.
Charles's question seemed simple—but it carried a heavy message.
"Don't you want to ask for something for yourselves?"
What he really meant was: you might be purged later—shouldn't you protect yourselves now?
No officer would ever say that aloud.
Any other commander sent to negotiate would've said something like:
"You won't be punished. We'll forget all this ever happened—as long as you return to your duties now."
Only Charles. Only he told the truth. Only he warned them of what was coming.
And so they knew, beyond a doubt:
Charles was on their side.
"Very well," Charles said, nodding to the group. "You are true warriors—men brave enough to face death and still stand tall. I will do everything in my power to protect you."
The bearded lieutenant could hold back no longer. His eyes reddened. He stared at Charles in silence, his emotions unraveling.
How could I ever have doubted this man?
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