I Became a Plutocrat in World War I: Starting with Saving France-Chapter 952: The Only Ones I Can Trust Are the French Army
Shire firmly believed Russia would continue this war.
It’s not just due to historical inertia, but more so because of interests.
It’s like investing in a project; as harvest time approaches when returns can be fully reaped, suddenly giving up at the last moment not only loses all capital but also requires a substantial compensation.
No one would do such a foolish thing.
However, Shire knew that this continuation was unfavorable for Russia, as what awaited it in the future was the "October Revolution."
But this wasn’t Shire’s concern for now; currently, the priority was to protect Romania, or rather his oil fields. The best, most economical, and fastest method was to pull Russia back into the war.
Queen Mary did just that; instead of returning home, she hurriedly flew to Russia to persuade Brusilov.
Brusilov sent Shire a telegram: "Your analysis is correct, but do you really believe in our current situation that it is still suitable to fight against the Germans?"
Shire felt a pang of guilt but replied without hesitation:
"You should know, General."
"This isn’t decided by you, nor by me, not even by Russia."
"The Germans possess absolute control; perhaps you should ask them this question!"
Upon saying this, Shire’s guilt completely dissipated.
This isn’t my concern, Shire thought.
Brusilov pondered and found Shire’s words to be correct; this wasn’t a situation that could be swayed by human efforts:
The victorious Germany wouldn’t easily cease hostilities; they demanded land, money, and reparations.
Russia had only two options: surrender or resistance.
Brusilov chose resistance; he nodded and sent a reply to Shire:
"I’ll proceed with your idea; your suggestion is excellent."
"Reinforcing Romania is easier than organizing defenses on Russian soil because it is the Germans’ rear."
"Moreover, Romania has abundant grain, minerals, and oil. If Romania falls, it means Russia loses all hope of resistance!"
Shire exhaled in relief.
Next was to dispatch transport planes to Romania with 2,000 paratroopers to buy time; a few days later, Russian reinforcements would arrive, and Romania could be defended.
Before he could turn around, Shire received Queen Mary’s letter of thanks:
"Incredible, we truly persuaded General Brusilov."
"Thank you very much, Vice Admiral; once again, you have saved Romania. Your wisdom is unparalleled."
"I truly wish I were beside you to express my deepest gratitude at this moment!"
Yet, Queen Mary remained somewhat worried; she asked: "Can General Brusilov persuade the provisional government? I’ve heard that the provisional government is in chaos; they lack experience in ruling the nation."
"Don’t worry," Shire replied: "Even amidst chaos, even with ulterior motives, they can reach consensus on this matter shortly."
The only thing that can unite capitalists is interest.
And a piece of interest this large before their eyes wouldn’t go unnoticed by them.
...
Just as Shire sat at his desk, a guard reported: "General, King Constantine I of Greece is at the door; he wishes to speak with you."
Shire frowned, King of Greece?
Regarding whether the British should withdraw troops from Greece?
Having the representative in Paris discuss it would suffice; why do they come personally from afar?
Then Shire realized that this seemed to be considered a form of etiquette: letting the representative in Paris speak with such a prominent figure as Shire about matters of national life and death seemed too casual.
Unbeknownst to himself, Shire found he had become someone whom queens and kings approached cautiously.
"Let him in," Shire said.
Dressed in military attire, Constantine I walked briskly into the office with a smile. Upon seeing Shire rise to greet him, he quickly took off his military cap and stepped up to shake hands: "Very glad to see you again, Vice Admiral."
"Likewise, Majesty." Shire originally intended to invite Constantine I to sit on the sofa, but seeing Constantine I glance toward the British office, he understood his concern.
"Let’s talk in the conference room." Shire gestured towards the back.
Constantine I felt relieved, gratefully nodding towards Shire: "Thank you, Vice Admiral."
The conference room was much quieter; although faint sounds of a radio’s "tick-tock" and calls from communications staff could still be heard, they were not a concern.
Shire handed Constantine I a cup of coffee, noticing his muscles were tense and he sat uneasily, he reassured him: "Don’t worry, Majesty, this is France. In France, nobody dares harm you, not even the British."
Constantine I relaxed, gratefully looking at Shire:
"Thank you very much, Vice Admiral."
"I know this, which is quite ironic to me."
"Sorry, I mean no offense. I mean to say that I’m safer in France even compared to my own country."
The voice carried a hint of bitterness, and helplessness.
Shire sighed inwardly: this is the reality of survival of the fittest.
If the country isn’t strong enough, as king, you’ll always be a resource to be exploited by others.
If not, it’s simply because there’s no value in utilizing you!
Constantine I lamented bitterly, seemingly to spill grievances, yet akin to accusing Britain’s actions:
"I’ve faced multiple assassination attempts, though the assassins were Greeks and masqueraded as accidents, I believe they were connected to the British."
"They’re capable of anything, for the sake of interests."
"I’m fortunate that you’re different from the British, and fortunate for the France you’ve led!"
...
Shire listened quietly, occasionally offering encouragement.
He could quite understand Constantine I, not having faced setbacks his entire life, trained in the German military academy deeply influenced by German military thought.
Having commanded several campaigns, in the prime of life eager to rejuvenate Greece, just to suddenly find out that in face of Great Powers, he was nothing, not only was his throne but even his life threatened.
Powerlessness, setback, and humiliation were experiences he had never been through his life.
This sudden upheaval left him frightened and unsure how to handle it; Shire had become his last straw to grasp.
"I will keep my promise, Majesty," Shire said:
"France respects the sovereignty of every nation, and Greece is now part of the ’International League’; we’re allies."
"I believe it won’t take long and the parliament will withdraw the French Army from Greece."
Constantine I grew tense: "No, General, I hope you won’t withdraw the French Army."
"What?" Shire thought he misheard.
Wasn’t the withdrawal of the Anglo-French forces from Greece Constantine I’s wish? 𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖
Constantine I nodded affirmatively:
"General, the only forces I can trust are the French Army."
"With the French forces in Greece, the British dare not behave too presumptuously, I still have a place to belong."
"But if the French Army withdraws, I cannot imagine what might unfold."
Shire understood.
If the French Army withdraws from Greece, the British would "occupy" the whole of Greece.
This was precisely what Constantine I was unwilling to witness.
