I Became a Plutocrat in World War I: Starting with Saving France-Chapter 232 Apocalypse Carnival

The Ypres front line was already in high spirits.

They lit rows of candles at the edge of the trenches, cleverly setting up shovels to shield from the wind. In the flickering candlelight, someone played an accordion, and a large crowd of soldiers gathered around, including British, French, and German soldiers.

They sang popular Christmas carols from various countries in tune with the accordion. Those who didn’t know the lyrics just hummed along to the rhythm, singing and dancing, sharing the cherished liquor from their pockets.

In the no-man’s land between the trenches, on a relatively flat piece of land, the soldiers marked out a football field, using torches as boundaries, barbed wire to create goals, and a bundle of straw as the football. Players from two teams ran joyfully, vying for the ball.

Captain Claude acted as the referee, his whistle originally used for ordering attacks was now repurposed as a football whistle. He even made red and yellow cards with paint.

Watching the players sprinting with all their might and the spectators cheering loudly, Captain Claude felt a bit of bitterness in his heart.

He understood that this happiness was nothing but a "doomsday carnival."

"Perhaps they’ll die in fear and helplessness tomorrow, so why not exhaust themselves to death now? This might even be considered a blessing!"

This was probably the true feeling in everyone’s heart.

Why did fate drive them to this point?

Just then, Lieutenant Deni ran over to call Captain Claude, who was following the "players," and whispered a few words in his ear.

Captain Claude’s expression changed, and he nodded to a nearby guard, "Barre, take over for me!"

Barre stepped forward and took the whistle from Captain Claude.

...

Captain Claude hurriedly entered the dugout that served as the command post. He shook hands with a thin soldier and asked expressionlessly, "Is everything you said true? They plan to implement the decimation order on us?"

"Yes!" The soldier nodded, "The order has already reached Dunkirk. They need some time to discuss this with the British because the British Army is also involved. It has to be a combined effort to be effective."

The soldier then nervously suggested, "Captain, resume combat..."

Captain Claude gently shook his head, interrupting the soldier, his tone mocking, "If we resume combat, how many people will die in two days?"

Everyone fell silent.

Based on the previous casualty rates, at least dozens of men would be wounded or killed over two days.

And the decimation order might only take a dozen lives.

From a numerical standpoint, the decimation order was clearly the better option. Captain Claude would certainly choose the decimation order.

Lieutenant Deni was anxious, "But the decimation order is a disgrace for the soldiers, Captain. We will lose everything..."

Captain Claude saw through it all, "Does any of this matter to a dead man?"

"But who do we choose?" Lieutenant Deni asked.

The most brutal part of the decimation order is making the soldiers themselves select those to be punished.

"Count me in," Captain Claude answered calmly.

Everyone was stunned. This was not an honor, yet the captain remained at the forefront as usual.

As the atmosphere in the dugout grew oppressive, a signaler suddenly entered excitedly reporting, "Captain, do you know who has arrived?"

"Who?" Lieutenant Deni asked with a trace of panic in his eyes. Could the infantry police have already arrived?

Everyone in the dugout changed expressions, except Captain Claude, who quietly took out a cigarette and lit it.

It seemed he had given himself a death sentence and no longer cared about anything, thinking it was only a matter of dying a few days earlier.

"It’s Shire. Shire is here!" the signaler said excitedly, "Can you believe it? Shire has come to inspect us and he’s bringing us turkeys!"

The people in the dugout were surprised but remained silent, unanimously pondering a single question: Have they sent Shire to implement the decimation order?

"What’s with you all?" the signaler asked, puzzled.

"Nothing," Captain Claude replied blankly, "Where is he? Take me to see him!"

"Yes, Captain!" The signaler answered.

...

Before coming, Shire did two things:

First, he had Dejoka purchase roasted turkeys and arranged for transportation to deliver them to Ypres in batches.

Second, he got in touch with General Winter in Dunkirk, asking him to delay the arrival of the infantry police headed for Ypres.

General Winter did this successfully, with a justifiable reason: "The British Army also participated in the truce. If we don’t punish them collectively, the effect might be negligible. Moreover, though Ypres is on the Allied line, it’s Belgian territory. Shouldn’t we consult His Majesty Albert I first?" fгeewebnovёl.com

This turned the issue into not just France’s problem but an international one involving both Britain and Belgium, making it impossible to resolve quickly.

In addition, considering the unclear night situation and the fear of inciting a mutiny, the infantry police decided, after consulting high command, to take action at dawn.

Shire arrived at Ypres around 5 a.m. Without notifying the front line, he brought only a guard squad.

Shire understood that if the front line knew in advance of his arrival, it would be dangerous.

The German military would be overjoyed: the front line was unfortified, and soldiers from both sides could freely enter enemy trenches. If Shire inspected the front lines in such a situation,.

They could easily send assassins to hide on the front line. Upon seeing Shire, they would shoot him, killing Shire and restoring the state of war...

Gallieni also knew this, so he strictly ordered that no one who knew about it in the command post was allowed to leave, and all phones and telegrams were strictly controlled.

...

When Shire arrived with Lauren and a squad of guards at the Ypres front line, the passing soldiers did not recognize him, even casting wary glances at these "unexpected guests."

Shire walked along the communication trench to the very front line, where he saw groups of soldiers gathered around the accordion, singing and dancing in the candlelight. There were German and French soldiers, their rifles casually placed aside, even mixed together.

A drunken German officer came up and invited Shire into the "dance floor." Instinctively, Lauren stepped forward and pushed him down, pulling out his revolver and aiming it at the German officer.

The other guards, on high alert, raised their rifles and surrounded Shire.

"Hey, take it easy!" A French soldier stood up, "Merry Christmas, gentlemen. Just arrived, huh? It’s truce time, understand? Truce!"

Shire stepped forward, ordering Lauren and the guards to lower their guns.

The French soldier, with an incredulous look, sized up Shire, "Hey, Colonel, you.... you look so much like Shire. I saw him once in Paris. My God, you’re identical!"

Shire said nothing, just silently stared at the signaler.

The accordion music abruptly stopped, the loud singing and laughter halted, the air seemed to freeze, and everyone’s gaze focused on Shire, including the German soldiers.

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