Chapter 575: Enclosed Cockpit
Taking advantage of his leave, Charles paid a visit to the aircraft factory.
He wasn't there to see Uncle Eric—Charles had heard that ever since the man quit drinking, he'd become a full-on "wife-fearing" family man, rushing home after work to take care of the kids. Charles didn't want to disturb that domestic harmony.
Instead, he headed straight to the R&D department—where the talents poached from Britain's aircraft engine teams were hard at work.
The department looked less like a lab and more like a giant mechanic's garage. Equipment, parts, and tools were scattered everywhere, and the technicians—who Charles had assumed were factory workers—were hunched over their workstations, busily tinkering with engines and machinery. Sparks flew from welders; the smell of hot metal filled the air.
(Note: Electric arc welding first appeared in 1881, with carbon arc welding. By 1915, techniques like electroslag welding were known, though most workshops still used the Swedish-invented manual arc welding from 1910.)
Charles was amazed. No one even noticed he had walked in.
It wasn't until much later that he learned—he had been mistaken. Those "workers" weren't laborers. They were engineers.
He finally asked someone near him:
"Excuse me, sir, where's the R&D department?"
Without even looking up from his wrench, the man replied:
"You're standing in it."
Charles blinked and looked around again.
He had imagined something else entirely—rows of drafting tables, walls of technical blueprints, suited assistants, and elegantly dressed secretaries moving back and forth with coffee and reports.
Not… this.
"Then, um… where's Dorn?" he asked hesitantly.
The "worker" jerked his chin toward the engine setup in front of them.
"Hey, boss—someone's looking for you!"
Under the mounted engine, a man lay flat on a mechanic's creeper, tools clinking. He kept working for a few more seconds before finally rolling out, wiping his greasy hands on a cloth.
When he saw Charles, he froze for a moment.
Then he burst out laughing.
"You bastard—it's the Corsican kid! How did you all not notice him?"
The others looked up and finally recognized him. Tools clattered to the floor, and a round of cheers broke out.
Some even ran over, notebooks in hand:
"I'm a huge fan, General!"
"Can I get your autograph?"
"Me too, please!"
Charles signed for each of them, even autographing clothes when no paper was available.
Then Dorn turned toward the engine and grinned:
"Everything's going well, boss. We've already passed the 200-horsepower mark. We think there's still room to improve."
(Note: Aircraft engines and tank engines are very different. Aircraft engines require strict limitations on weight and size, while tank engines can afford more bulk. That's why aircraft engines of the time often lagged behind in raw horsepower.)
"Excellent," Charles nodded in approval.
The Germans wouldn't fit a 200-hp engine onto a bomber until 1918. In other words, this team was two years ahead.
"Boss," Dorn said playfully after a sip of water, "you're not here because you're worried we'll quit on you, are you? Is that why you're dropping by during your leave?"
The researchers erupted in laughter. Someone shouted:
"Don't worry, boss—we read the papers. We know every battle you've won!"
"And we take pride in that. Our work is part of those victories!"
"We've held air superiority this whole time—aren't we amazing?"
Charles laughed along, then gave credit where it was due:
"You're right. Air dominance is one of the keys to our success. Your engines play a critical role in every battle we win."
It was true.
Although recent fighter engagement numbers were down, that was only because the German air force couldn't match the French Camel in performance. They had adopted a defensive strategy—staying grounded and conserving resources.
That left the skies open for French reconnaissance and supply strikes, giving the army a significant advantage.
The engineers beamed at the praise.
"Still," Charles continued with a grin, "I didn't come here just to flatter you."
"Because I'm the smartest boss, and I give you the best work environment. Only a fool would want to leave—right?"
The room exploded with laughter again.
Then Charles sobered slightly.
"Actually, I'm here because I have an idea—and I want your opinion."
"Is it about engines?" Dorn asked, dragging over a stool to sit opposite him.
"No." Charles shook his head. "We all know, to make a plane faster, we can either increase engine power—or reduce drag."
Everyone nodded in agreement. Several raised eyebrows—so the "Corsican kid" understood drag coefficients? Not bad.
"That's why we added cowling to the Camel's machine guns," Dorn offered.
"To reduce airflow disruption."
That cowling, shaped over the twin machine guns, gave the Camel its name—the hump on the nose made it look like the animal.
"Exactly," Charles said. "So I started thinking—if we can reduce drag for the guns, why not for the cockpit, too?"
The room went silent.
"The cockpit?"
"Enclose it?"
Then the gasps came:
"That's… brilliant! Open cockpits create massive drag—especially during climbs and dives!"
"An enclosed canopy would fix that! Plus, pilots won't be freezing or getting soaked by rain anymore!"
"But if we enclose the cockpit, how will the pilot fight?"
"Use glass!" someone shouted. "We can build it out of clear material, Bruce!"
Dorn turned to Charles and slowly nodded.
"This is a very good idea, boss. Let me ask—have you considered staying out of combat and joining us permanently?"
Laughter broke out again. Everyone knew that was impossible. If Charles ever decided to sit out the war, the French public would storm the place and drag him back to the front.
But Charles had indeed earned his place among them—one single suggestion had just leapfrogged their entire department's progress.
Charles threw up his hands:
"Well? Anyone still want to quit?"
More laughter.
"No way, boss!"
"We're happy to serve you!"
"We'll stay—but give us a raise!"
Charles rolled his eyes. That last part he pretended not to hear.
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