Chapter 237: A Win-Win Solution
The next second, a French soldier exclaimed in excitement, "My God... you… you're Charles, you're Charles!"
The realization rippled through the soldiers, who began murmuring in awe:
"Is it really him, Charles?"
"The Charles who keeps winning us victories?"
"Yes! And he's the one who's sent us all those supplies, including the field blankets!"
...
In an instant, soldiers surged forward to shake Charles' hand:
"An honor to meet you, Colonel!"
"Thank you for the supplies, and for the hope you bring us!"
"You're our pride, Colonel!"
A German officer stepped forward as well, saluting Charles with a look of admiration and shook his hand, saying in halting French:
"You are an honorable enemy, Colonel. To meet you in person—this is very fortunate."
"No, let me say… it's very fortunate to see you alive!" he added.
The French soldiers laughed heartily, understanding the German officer's meaning perfectly.
A German soldier muttered something in German, which the officer translated with a smile:
"Berger says, Colonel Charles has a nickname among our troops. We call him the 'Knight of War,' meaning a knight born for the battlefield."
The French soldiers let out a collective "Wow!" and began to chant in unison, "Knight of War!"
"Knight of War!"
...
The crowd of soldiers grew larger and larger as more joined, hearing the news that Charles was here at the front. They left their posts and gathered from every direction, filling the trench, shoulder to shoulder.
Even German soldiers came over, eager to catch a glimpse of Charles. French soldiers instinctively gripped their rifles with wary eyes, worried that the Germans might use this rare chance to harm Charles.
Just then, a French captain squeezed through the crowd, his expression unreadable as he gave Charles a salute. Politely, he gestured, "Colonel, let's talk inside."
Charles nodded and followed the captain through the trench, weaving through the cheers of soldiers until they reached the captain's command post.
"My apologies for the cramped quarters," the captain said, motioning Charles to sit on a low stool. He then retrieved a small metal cup from a shelf, filled with freshly heated coffee, and handed it to Charles with a slight apology in his tone: "This is all we have to offer."
The coffee was made by mixing instant coffee powder with melted snow and heating it over a candle.
Charles nodded gratefully, taking a sip. "Not bad, aside from the hint of burnt flavor."
The captain chuckled. "You're honest, Colonel. When generals visit, they either refuse it altogether or make a show of saying, 'It's delicious,' while their faces tell a different story."
Charles smiled and replied, "Well, if I ever become a general, maybe I'll be the same."
The captain chuckled knowingly, sensing Charles' influence far outstripped any general's. Unless Charles himself was unaware of this.
Taking a seat opposite Charles, the captain asked directly, "So, Colonel, what brings you here?"
Then, as if catching himself, he added, "Forgive me, Colonel, but I must approach this conversation from the soldiers' perspective."
"Of course," Charles replied, "I'm here speaking from the soldiers' perspective too."
The captain's eyebrows raised in slight confusion.
Just then, more cheers could be heard from outside, and Lieutenant Denis entered the command post, leaning down to whisper something in the captain's ear. The captain nodded briefly.
"Thank you for the turkeys, Colonel," the captain said, his tone carefully neutral. "But if you came here hoping the soldiers would end the truce, I'm afraid that's not possible. Our agreement isn't something we can just tear up like the generals would."
Charles listened patiently, then replied calmly, "It's only a Christmas gift, Captain."
The captain murmured an acknowledgment, his expression half-smiling as if to say, I'll believe it when I see it. I don't believe you have no requests.
Charles ignored this, taking another sip of coffee, then asked, "Captain, are you aware of the decimation order?"
The captain's gaze hardened, and he thought, Here it comes. He's trying to use this as leverage.
"And if I am?" the captain replied.
Then, hesitating briefly, he added, "Colonel, I appreciate all you've done, but we will not yield on this."
"Perhaps there's a win-win solution," Charles interrupted.
"A win-win?" The captain frowned, uncertain of what Charles meant. How could both sides win? The idea seemed absurd. War and peace were opposites!
Charles leaned closer, lowering his voice, "You can resume combat… without anyone knowing exactly where the bullets go, Captain. All it takes is an agreement between you and the Germans to set up wooden targets on each side of the trenches…"
The captain understood immediately, nodding. "Brilliant idea, Colonel. Truly brilliant."
Then, for the first time, the captain's stern gaze softened, his face relaxing like thawing ice.
Before, he had regarded Charles with distrust, assuming he was just a messenger from the generals, someone trying to manipulate them.
But now, the captain realized Charles was on their side.
Raising his cup, Charles added, "And not just for Christmas, Captain. You could even agree to pause at breakfast time. Hang the targets, share a quiet meal, then lower the targets and resume. Sound fair?"
"Yes, Colonel!" The captain's face broke into a rare smile. "I believe the Germans will agree too."
"Good." Charles checked his pocket watch, adding, "Dawn is approaching. I've arranged to delay the gendarmerie, but they'll arrive at sunrise. Make sure you're ready before then. Can you manage?"
"No problem, Colonel!" The captain tried to rise and salute, limited by the cramped dugout, but the gesture was no less respectful.
"Well, that settles my purpose for being here," Charles said with a nod. "I should be going. Merry Christmas!"
"Merry Christmas, Colonel," the captain replied, his voice thick with emotion.
He really hadn't asked for anything in return. He'd come here simply to protect us.
No one, no one else in command cared about the fate of the front-line soldiers like Charles did.
"Colonel!" The captain called out just as Charles was about to step out of the dugout.
"Yes?" Charles turned back.
"My name is Claude, Colonel," the captain said, standing as straight as he could. "My men and I… we hope that one day we can fight under your command."
Charles nodded, then turned and stepped out of the dugout.
(End of Chapter)
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