Chapter 587: Hand Over Charles
At the headquarters in Gembloux, the distant thunder of artillery continuously rolled from the front lines. Inside the command office, aides rushed back and forth, delivering updates and instructions. It was a Christmas Eve devoid of peace. However, the unrest was not caused by intense battles against the Germans but by the unresolved internal power struggle between Charles and the French Parliament. Both sides remained cautious, unwilling to let their guard down until matters were settled.
Charles, for his part, appeared calm despite being awake late into the night. He had recently regained his command and was now occupied with a mountain of paperwork and orders awaiting his approval. On the contrary, General Gamelin sat anxiously at his desk, staring at its empty surface. With nothing left to do and no authority to act, he concealed his embarrassment by quietly drinking one cup of coffee after another.
Gamelin simply could not fathom how he had lost to Charles. He had taken proactive measures, arriving at the headquarters several days before Charles returned from leave, executing careful plans, arresting or detaining suspected dissenters, and placing his trusted aides in key positions. He had assumed that no matter how resourceful Charles was, he would not be able to reverse the situation so swiftly. Yet, within just two days, the reins of command had effortlessly slipped back into Charles's hands.
Even more humiliating for Gamelin was the fact that the officers who facilitated Charles's return to power were his own subordinates, men he had personally brought from Paris—men he trusted completely, his most loyal assistants and the key to controlling the 6th Army. Traitors, shameless bastards, he cursed bitterly in his heart.
Then, turning toward the aide who remained loyally at his side, Gamelin saw Weygand, one of the few who still stood firmly with him. Weygand, after all, belonged to General Foch's faction and would never align himself with Charles. At least that much was clear.
"Where are the British?" Gamelin asked weakly, clutching at the last strand of hope.
"General," Weygand replied hesitantly, "the British…"
Seeing Weygand's reluctance to speak, Gamelin became wary. Could something have gone wrong with the British reinforcements as well? They were his only remaining hope. Though Charles had claimed the British were mere scapegoats, Gamelin still believed that the British, who controlled critical supplies, would have substantial influence in this matter.
"What happened?" Gamelin pressed.
Gathering his courage, Weygand finally replied, "General, the railway between Brussels and Gembloux has been sabotaged by German partisans. Additionally, heavy rains caused landslides that blocked the roads, so…"
"So the British won't make it?" Gamelin interrupted anxiously.
"No, General," Weygand clarified hurriedly. "They have arrived, but only a single regiment managed to get through. The main forces will take several more days."
Gamelin was left speechless. A single regiment—two or three thousand soldiers—could accomplish nothing significant against Charles's fully armed and fiercely loyal 6th Army. By the time the main British forces arrived, the situation would be firmly under Charles's control.
Something else troubled Gamelin. The Germans had conveniently and precisely sabotaged the rail lines linking Brussels directly to Gembloux, specifically affecting the British reinforcement routes. Could this too be Charles's doing?
He glanced suspiciously toward Charles, who was sitting several meters away, calmly signing documents and engaging with his aides. The young general was an enigma, wielding a terrifyingly subtle power.
But this time, Gamelin's suspicion was mistaken. Charles had no hand in the sabotage. Nor was it the work of German partisans, as originally believed. Rather, Belgian resistance fighters loyal to King Albert I were responsible. At this moment, Albert's troops, numbering around sixty thousand men—including two full regular divisions reinforced by local militia—were rapidly converging on Gembloux. They secured every route into the town, closely monitoring any movement by French or British forces.
Thus, when the British reinforcements arrived near Gembloux, only one regiment stationed nearby managed to march in, while the main forces were stranded, unable to proceed due to the destroyed railway and blocked roads. The moment this isolated regiment arrived, it found itself immediately encircled by Belgian soldiers, nearly forced into surrender.
Back at the 6th Army's headquarters, the church bells tolled, marking the arrival of four o'clock in the morning. Charles was still tirelessly working, signing endless stacks of documents. Such administrative chaos typically occurred whenever command shifted hands. Practically every order above regimental level required Charles's direct approval, responsibilities normally managed by brigade or division commanders now piled onto his desk. Although his hand ached and his voice grew weary from constant authorizations, Charles found satisfaction in this effort. Anything was preferable to allowing power to slip back into the hands of intermediaries loyal to Gamelin.
Suddenly, an aide approached him urgently. "General, King Albert I has surrounded Gembloux with Belgian troops. They are demanding we hand you over."
"Hand me over?" Charles stopped writing, raising his head with genuine confusion. "What does that mean?"
"I—I don't know either," the aide admitted helplessly, equally bewildered.
However, realization quickly dawned on Charles. Albert I clearly believed Charles was being held captive or coerced, and had thus brought his troops to rescue him. Charles couldn't help but smile, touched by the King's sincere gesture.
"Connect me with Albert I immediately. Tell him I wish to speak with him," Charles ordered.
"Yes, General!" The aide quickly obeyed.
Within ten minutes, the phone rang, and after verifying Albert's identity, the aide handed the receiver to Charles. "General, it's His Majesty, Albert I."
Charles dropped his pen and took the phone. "Hello?"
"General, are you alright?" Albert's voice was anxious.
"I'm fine," Charles reassured him. "How many men did you bring?"
"Sixty thousand in total," Albert replied confidently. "Rest assured, I've blocked the British from advancing. They'll be unable to reach Gembloux for at least a few more days."
Charles fell momentarily silent, wondering who would be blamed now if the British failed to appear. Parliament needed someone to blame; otherwise, the political stalemate would drag on endlessly.
Fortunately, Albert continued, "However, Lieutenant General Ives's elite cavalry division is rapidly approaching, and I haven't found a reason to block them yet."
The advantage of cavalry lay precisely in their off-road mobility. Even if roads were impassable, cavalry could easily find alternative routes.
"Don't stop them," Charles quickly interjected. "Let them come."
"Are you certain?" Albert asked cautiously, his voice implying deeper concerns. His true intention was to confirm Charles's freedom.
"Don't worry," Charles reassured him confidently. "The 6th Army is entirely under my control."
Reassured by Charles's composed response, Albert relaxed. Only Charles could so effortlessly regain authority without external assistance.
Ending the call, Charles stood up and approached Gamelin, offering a sardonic smile. "General, good news for you. Lieutenant General Ives's cavalry division should arrive in about an hour."
Gamelin perked up immediately, sensing a glimmer of hope. "In that case," he said, unable to hide a hint of smugness, "I suppose you're ready to receive them?"
Charles stared incredulously at Gamelin, astonished that the general still believed in the British, still thought they would somehow reverse the inevitable. His disbelief was almost palpable. Could Gamelin really remain so deluded as to think the British cavalry would change the balance of power?
In the end, the old general's desperation was clear. He clung stubbornly to the British cavalry as his last ray of hope. Charles knew better. He was prepared, calm, and thoroughly in control.
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