I Became a Plutocrat in World War I: Starting with Saving France-Chapter 915: Parachuting

After leaving the airplane manufacturing plant, Shire went to the flying club.

The car drove straight into the flying club without being interrogated.

This was a privilege unique to Shire. As soon as the guards saw the license plate AM-0281, and looked down to see that the driver was Colonel Laurent, they immediately lifted the barrier to let him through.

(Note: During World War I, French license plates were not yet standardized, but government vehicles were mostly numbered. Government and civilian plates started with area codes, Paris being "75", and military vehicles started with "AM", initials for Automobile Militaire, meaning military vehicles.)

Looking through the car window, Shire noticed that the flying club was vastly different from before.

The previously dilapidated appearance was completely gone, the airfield had been expanded threefold, and the rundown buildings in the construction area had been completely demolished, replaced with small steel-reinforced concrete buildings. Camouflage nets covered the rooftops, likely to avoid being bombed by the Germans.

On one side of the airfield, bunkers were built, and a dozen "Camel" and "Snipe" fighters were parked there. Pilots and trainees gathered nearby, learning about fighter knowledge amidst the roar of runway aircraft.

The car slowly stopped beside the command building, which had three floors and walls as thick as a bunker. The top concrete layer was roughly half a meter thick, with a soil layer and suspended barbed wire laid for buffering.

If an aerial bomb were to fall on it, it would probably just create a white spot.

With the guard in tow, Shire ascended to the third floor, where in the middle was the command post of Group Captain Carter.

The files were randomly discarded everywhere, piled together like a small mountain. With just a slight touch, they would collapse like loose sand.

Telephones were placed here and there, and lines were messily strung like cobwebs. They extended across the floor and ceiling, many of which, disconnected and unused, hadn't been timely cleared.

The scruffy Carter seemed engulfed by the files, and when the phone rang, he had to rummage through the "junk pile" for a while, grasping three receivers before finally finding the right one.

"Hello, two enemy planes shot down in Zone D?" Carter glanced at the wall's scribbled map, then immediately cursed: "Who told you to shoot them down? That's not your business, Major. If this happens again, you'll all come back as instructors!"

With that, he slammed the phone down in a huff, cursing with resentment:

"Those bastards, they can't hold back as soon as they spot a target."

"That's English airspace, don't they know that doing so could easily lead to friendly fire incidents?"

The main point was "English airspace". The rest were just excuses.

Carter had fully understood Shire's combat strategy with this approach.

Raising his head, Carter saw Shire enter the room. After a moment of astonishment flashed on his face, it quickly transformed into a broad smile as he stood up to greet him.

"Vice Admiral, long time no see."

Only then did the busy group of staff officers around notice the incoming "short man" and promptly paused their work, turning their attention to Shire.

"Continue," Shire said calmly, "Keep working on your tasks. This is war, after all."

In response, the staff officers resumed bustling as if a play button had been pressed.

Carter ushered Shire into the meeting room: "They usually aren't like this; it's only because of you, Vice Admiral."

Upon stepping into the room, Shire frowned again.

The meeting room was equally chaotic, with chairs and cups scattered freely in various corners. The cups still held traces of coffee, and cigarette butts littered the floor, with the air permeated by an unpleasant tobacco odor.

Couldn't these aviators pay a little attention to the details of life?

Carter prepared a cup of coffee for Shire and asked carefully, "Vice Admiral, I've heard you're eager for a truce with the Germans?"

"Yes." Shire took a sip of coffee and asked in return, "Are you worried about having no battles to fight, Colonel?"

"No, no." Carter replied with a nervous smile, "It's just that some people want to know, if the war ends, will we have to live off performances again? They hope to be mentally prepared!"

Shire was astonished.

These guys were completely unaware of the scarcity of pilots, assuming that after the war, they would be dismissed with a sum of money like the army?

"Don't worry about that." Shire assured, "France will take care of you all for a lifetime; you will always be needed."

"Yes, Vice Admiral." Carter relaxed greatly, standing upright with a salute, his eyes filled with gratitude.

With Shire's reassurance, Carter was at ease; there could be no greater happiness than being supported for life!

"Can you parachute?" Shire asked.

"Yes, of course," Carter replied.

Shire further inquired, "Are you currently using parachutes?"

He didn't know about this; no document recorded it, as if parachutes didn't exist at all.

"No, Vice Admiral." Carter sat down at Shire's indication, "We learned parachuting before enlistment to handle emergencies. You know, unexpected situations often arise during flights."

"You mean to say that it's not used after enlisting?" Shire was puzzled. Wasn't enlisting in air combat even more dangerous?

"Because parachutes are of little use," Carter explained. "Air combat mostly happens at medium to low altitudes, with life and death determined in an instant. When a pilot realizes they should parachute, it's often too late."

Shire "oh"-ed in acknowledgement, understanding the rationale.

Other reasons include deploying too early, which risks being caught in the propeller, and too late, rendering the parachute ineffective.

Additionally, wearing a parachute would occupy the already limited cockpit space, hindering pilots' mobility while distracting them from combat, as they continually worry about how to parachute in case of being hit.

From a comprehensive analysis, Carter believed that not using a parachute during combat operations actually increased survival rates, especially given France's air superiority. 𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖

"Parachutes are for balloon observers," Carter continued, "They have a more stable platform for parachuting, and in case a balloon is shot down by enemy aircraft or loses control, they can parachute to safety."

French balloons hadn't been phased out yet; artillery still used them extensively due to France maintaining air superiority, preventing the German Army from attacking French balloons.

Then Carter curiously asked, "Why does the Vice Admiral want to know this?"

This was one of the least important issues in the military, affecting only a handful of soldiers' lives and seemingly unworthy of the Vice Admiral's attention.

Shire responded, "I need a batch of instructors skilled in parachuting to train a group of infantry to learn parachuting!"

"A group of infantry? To learn parachuting?" Carter looked at Shire in surprise.

What possible use could that have?

When would they ever need to parachute?

Moreover, wouldn't they first need to learn how to fly before learning to parachute?!