Chapter 88:

Words : 1351 Updated : Sep 12th, 2025

Chapter 88: "The Maginot Line is built on the past reactionary, not forward-thinking.” Next day Moreau stood on the balcony, his coat thrown over his shoulders, as he sipped his black coffee. Laval stepped out behind him, buttoning his cuffs. "Message from Paris. Beauchamp wants you back. The defense committee has moved up its hearings they’re pushing for a new focus on doctrine and structure. They want you there." Moreau turned slightly, raising an eyebrow. "Urgent?" "Yes, it seems so," Laval said. "There’s a lot of pressure. They want your insight on the budget discussions." Moreau set his cup down. "I’ll pack, then. The calm never lasts long." "You’ve got a knack for reading politics. Beauchamp trusts your instinct more than the rest of the officers. He wants you in the room." Moreau glanced out at the distant horizon. "I’ll be ready in an hour." Laval took a sip of his coffee. "By the way, the work you did here it’s made a difference. Things in Rome went better than expected." "It’s not done yet," Moreau said, his gaze fixed. "But we’ve planted the seed." Laval gave a small nod. "Safe travels, Major." That Afternoon, Paris, Ministry of Defense The chill of Paris hit him as he exited the staff car and crossed the stone steps of the Ministry. Inside the Ministry, the atmosphere was quieter than usual, the halls empty except for the occasional officer moving between meetings. Upstairs, General Beauchamp’s office door was open. He stood near the window, arms crossed, eyes distant. Moreau noticed, however, that there was someone else in the room a tall, narrow man, impeccably dressed, with a crisp, commanding presence. His uniform was polished, and his posture spoke volumes of self-assurance. Moreau’s eyes widened for a moment as he immediately recognized the figure. "Commandant de Gaulle," Moreau said, stepping forward and saluting. De Gaulle, standing tall and alert, returned the salute with a sharp motion before extending his hand. "Major Moreau." They shook hands firmly. Moreau smiled. "Congratulations again on your publication last year. I thoroughly enjoyed reading it. Thank you for sending me a signed copy." De Gaulle’s smile flickered, his usual reserve softening just a touch. "It’s rare to find someone in the army who shares a similar view on modern warfare. The pleasure is mine, Major." Beauchamp, still standing near the window, let out a dry chuckle. "You two seem to be speaking the same language. I’d argue that’s dangerous for the Army." "I’d argue it’s necessary," Moreau replied with a hint of humor. Beauchamp turned from the window and gestured for them both to sit at the large oak table. "There’s been a shift in the committee," Beauchamp said, his tone serious. "The finance ministry is pushing back again. They want to reduce next year’s defense expansion. They’re talking about cutting armor and delaying mobility programs. I’ve been asked to argue for static defense again." Moreau kept his expression neutral. "They’re still obsessed with the past." "And war loans," Beauchamp muttered, frustrated. "But they’ll listen to us if I walk in with both of you a forward-thinking strategy instead of more of the same." De Gaulle adjusted his glasses, studying Beauchamp’s words. "So you’re asking us to present what’s been labeled as unorthodox this idea of independent armored divisions?" "Exactly," Beauchamp replied. "I need ideas bold ones. The kind of ideas that force people to rethink the entire structure of our army." Moreau sat forward slightly. "What would you like from us?" Beauchamp paused, looking at both men. "I need your assessments. What’s realistic? What’s truly necessary for the future of French defense? Show me what we need to focus on, not just what the Assembly wants to hear." He gave a curt nod. "I’m stepping out for a moment. Think this over. I want your thoughts on paper by tomorrow." With that, Beauchamp left, leaving Moreau and de Gaulle alone in the room. A silence stretched between them before de Gaulle spoke. "I’ve been advocating for independent armored divisions divisions that don’t simply support infantry but can strike deep, disorienting the enemy before they ever hit the front." Moreau leaned forward, intrigued. "Maneuver before contact." "Exactly," de Gaulle said, his voice firm with conviction. "We don’t let the enemy set the terms. We dictate the flow of the battle." Moreau nodded. "And when they bypass our line, we don’t collapse. We counterattack, from the flanks, from the rear. Mobility, not mass." De Gaulle studied him. "That’s not exactly standard doctrine." "It’s not," Moreau said. "But I’ve seen how defenses fail. The Maginot Line is built on the past reactionary, not forward-thinking." De Gaulle’s lips twitched into the smallest of smiles. "I recall mentioning something very similar at École de Guerre. They told me I was trying to turn France into Germany." "They were wrong," Moreau said without hesitation. "You’re trying to modernize France, make it flexible, adaptive." De Gaulle exhaled slowly. "The biggest hurdle is political. The Assembly won’t fund armor or mobility without public pressure. And the public is stuck in the thinking of 1918. They’re still in a post-WWI world." Moreau was quiet for a moment. "Then we bypass them. We don’t ask for ten armored divisions. We ask for one. A pilot program. Quiet. Effective. Show them it works. If it does, they won’t be able to ignore it." De Gaulle raised an eyebrow. "A ’ghost division,’ you mean?" "Exactly," Moreau said. "A proof of concept. We make them see the value, not just hear it." De Gaulle leaned back in his chair, intrigued by the idea. "You favor a mixed approach?" he asked. "Tanks, motorized infantry, fast artillery?" Moreau nodded. "Yes. But more than that, cohesion. Each component working in concert. If we rely only on speed, we fail. The key is coordination everything moves, everything has a role. We don’t let any unit fight alone." "And air support?" De Gaulle asked, tapping his fingers lightly on the desk. "Critical," Moreau replied. "Reconnaissance first. Then interdiction. But, of course, we both know the Air Force won’t be thrilled with the idea of sharing the battlefield." De Gaulle chuckled. "The Air Force thinks it can win wars on its own. But if they won’t support ground operations, they’ll be left behind." Moreau smiled faintly. "And the army will be forced to pick up the slack." Searᴄh the ηovelFire.ηet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. De Gaulle looked at him, measuring him. "You’re not just theorizing. You’ve seen this work before, haven’t you?" Moreau paused for a long moment before answering. "I’ve studied enough military theory to know what works. The British, the Germans, the Americans they’re all developing the same ideas. The patterns are clear." De Gaulle tilted his head slightly. "You don’t sound like a traditional officer trained in the French system." Moreau met his gaze. "Maybe I’m not." For a moment there was silence but neither spoke. Beauchamp re-entered, holding a folder in his hands. "I’ve been listening from the hallway. You two are convincing." He tossed the folder onto the table. "The committee’s giving us thirty minutes tomorrow. They’ll want specifics. I want both of you there." De Gaulle nodded once, his expression unreadable. Moreau stood. "We’ll give you the numbers. The reasons they can’t ignore." Beauchamp gave a rare, approving smile. "Good. The future is going to need both of you." Later that evening, as the last traces of light faded from the sky, Moreau and de Gaulle stood outside in the Ministry’s courtyard. De Gaulle lit a cigarette and offered one to Moreau, who politely refused. "You’re different," de Gaulle remarked. "Not just your ideas your approach. You speak like someone who’s already seen the future." Moreau looked out at the street, the sounds of Paris muffled by the cold. "I don’t like learning the hard way." De Gaulle smiled faintly. "You and I, we won’t win many friends in the officer corps. But we may be the only ones thinking about tomorrow." "That’s enough," Moreau said. "For now."

Chapter 88:

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