Chapter 486: Kick Joffre Out
The Chamber of Deputies fell into silence, an unusual quietness overtaking the normally chaotic hall. Every pair of eyes was now fixed either on General Canis or on Shire, seeking clues from their expressions to determine who had truly won or lost.
General Canis hesitated momentarily. Seeing Shire so calm, he inwardly sensed trouble but stubbornly forced himself to maintain his composure. He straightened his posture and spoke firmly:
"I see no reason for further discussion, General. The results are already evident. You failed to alter the battle at Verdun. I trust you will honor our earlier agreement..."
Shire remained silent, quietly observing General Canis from his seat.
"Is that so?" Major Jules suddenly stood up, turning sharply toward the deputies behind him, loudly declaring:
"Yesterday evening, General Shire led us to victory. We inflicted over seven thousand casualties on the Germans while suffering only around three hundred ourselves!"
The deputies erupted in excitement and disbelief, quickly followed by enthusiastic applause.
Throughout the Verdun campaign, French casualties had always far exceeded those of the Germans—often two, three times greater—especially during failed French counterattacks that cost tens of thousands of lives without gaining ground. Yet Shire had reversed this bitter trend overnight.
Gallieni gave a small nod of approval. The young man had succeeded, just as he promised. Perhaps only Shire could have accomplished such a feat.
General Canis's expression faltered, though he quickly regained his composure, arguing:
"Casualty numbers cannot be taken at face value, Major Jules. They require careful verification—especially enemy losses, which are notoriously difficult to confirm. Moreover, I hardly see how maintaining a defensive stance can be considered truly altering the battle..."
"No, General," Major Jules interrupted again, firmly and confidently. "Perhaps you haven't heard—we didn't just defend, we launched a successful counterattack."
General Canis froze, momentarily speechless. He clearly hadn't been informed.
"Indeed," Major Jules continued, "we even reclaimed Fort Douaumont."
"Impossible!" General Canis blurted out, incredulous. "That can't be true!"
A murmur swept through the chamber. Fort Douaumont was no ordinary position; it was the cornerstone of the Verdun defenses. The Germans had expended immense manpower and artillery to capture it after days of intense fighting. Now, Shire had supposedly retaken it in just one night, with far fewer resources?
Could this be real?
Even Gallieni was shocked, finding it hard to believe. This achievement seemed almost beyond human capability.
Jules pressed further:
"Furthermore, we've fully retaken the Douaumont defensive line, General. This cannot be falsified; our troops currently hold the line and the fortress. And," Jules gestured at his blood-stained uniform with pride, "these stains came from the assault itself."
He then dramatically took out his pocket watch, glanced at it, and smiled:
"As we speak, General Lacoste is releasing the official announcement to newspapers worldwide. The entire world will soon celebrate this inspiring victory!"
Indeed, distant cheers could already be heard echoing through the streets outside.
One after another, aides hurriedly entered, bringing the latest updates from Verdun. All confirmed Major Jules's claims.
Armand said nothing initially. Instead, he began applauding, setting off a spontaneous wave of clapping throughout the hall. Within moments, the applause grew thunderous, resonating deeply among all present.
Gallieni, applauding slowly, could only shake his head gently, fixing his gaze on Shire. He'd thought he understood this young general, but clearly, he'd only scratched the surface.
On stage, General Canis abandoned his dignity and rushed off, frantically demanding confirmation from his subordinates. The deputies laughed openly at his embarrassment, with one shouting:
"No one lies about victories like this—except perhaps Joffre!"
Laughter broke out again.
Indeed, Joffre had previously concealed the fall of Fort Douaumont, hoping a quick counterattack would reclaim it before anyone discovered its loss. His lie had eventually been exposed, becoming an embarrassing scandal.
Armand stepped calmly onto the podium, adopting a tone of solemn regret:
"Gentlemen, I initially opposed changing commanders amidst battle, believing it unwise. I even hesitated comparing Shire to Joffre; after all, General Joffre is three times the man Shire is."
The deputies laughed again, recognizing the playful jab at Joffre's obesity.
Armand continued:
"But Joffre's repeated failures were undone by Shire's singular success—in less than a single day, using the very same troops. This isn't merely Shire's brilliance at work; it also proves one thing: Our commander-in-chief, Joffre, likely contributed little, if anything positive, to the war effort."
Murmurs of agreement rose around the hall.
"Indeed," Armand's voice sharpened, "it's possible Joffre has been more harmful than helpful, commanding blindly, wasting lives with meaningless attacks, sleeping peacefully while our soldiers perish."
Heads nodded emphatically.
Armand raised his voice even louder, passionately urging:
"So why, gentlemen, should we allow this man to remain commander-in-chief? To keep leading our troops toward death? To lead France into defeat? Or perhaps drag our entire nation down into the abyss of this terrible war? Is this truly what we desire?"
"No!" came an immediate response. "We don't want that!"
"Kick Joffre out!"
"France deserves better!"
General Canis, pale and defeated, watched helplessly. He knew Joffre was finished.
Back at headquarters in Lagny, Joffre was leisurely enjoying his breakfast, sipping coffee as he scanned the morning newspapers.
An aide nervously approached him, trembling slightly as he reported:
"General, word from Verdun—our troops successfully retook Fort Douaumont and its surrounding defensive lines last night."
Joffre blinked in surprise, initially thinking it was good news. But then realization hit, and he stared incredulously at his aide:
"You must be joking. Retake Fort Douaumont and the Douaumont line? Impossible! Shire only had a few thousand exhausted troops—facing over a hundred thousand Germans!"
The aide stayed silent, fearful of Joffre's rage.
The telephone suddenly rang. It was General Lacoste calling directly from Verdun.
Joffre hurriedly picked it up, listened briefly, and froze. His face turned blank, his hand slackening until the receiver fell limply from his fingers.
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