The Fall of a Giant (3)
Brigadier General Billy Mitchell.
You could say he was the most famous aviator in the United States at the time.
It would still be a long while before the air force developed into an independent branch. At best, it had been upgraded from the Aviation Section of the Signal Corps to the Air Service—but it hadn't yet leveled up into an Air Corps or an Air Force.
In that situation, Mitchell served as the No. 2 in the U.S. Army Air Service, acting as its deputy commander—and more than anyone else, he had become a… downright aggressive fighting cock.
During the Great War, he had been tasked with commanding U.S. Army aircraft, and afterward, he became completely captivated by aviation. He constantly raised his voice, insisting that air power would become the core of future warfare.
Yes—he definitely had an eye for the future.
But he was also the kind of man who befriended MacArthur. As the saying goes, you follow your friends, and you become like them.
Billy Mitchell's personality was… truly something to behold.
"Future wars will be decided by air power."
"Britain has already established the Royal Air Force (RAF) as a separate branch, granting it independence from the army and navy. We must not fall behind this global trend."
"If Japan attacks us, their first offensive will undoubtedly be a surprise aerial strike on Pearl Harbor using massive air power. We must prepare in advance!"
Wow. A prophet among us.
Up to this point, it was admirable. Truly respectable, even.
But if it had ended there, I wouldn't have had to step in at all.
Mitchell's temperament, however, was anything but gentle.
I sent letters to some old acquaintances in aviation—MacNair, Stratemeyer, and Harmon—and the replies I got back were… something else.
"Look at this bastard—gets promoted and suddenly reaches out just to ask what he's curious about?"
"Don't live your life like that, you stingy jerk~"
"Five dollars if you want answers."
You bastards.
Yep, they were exactly the same guys I remembered. For a moment, I wondered if time and rank had corrupted them—but nope, unchanged as ever.
Only after I dabbed a few tears onto the letter paper and wrote back again did I finally get the answer I wanted.
"Billy Mitchell? Forget it. You'll just ruin your temper dealing with him."
"Arrogant, overbearing, and convinced he's always right."
"Don't forget—he's a racist too."
Everyone seemed to agree: smart, but with a completely rotten personality.
…That sounded awfully familiar. Birds of a feather, indeed.
But in the military, when you're told to go, you go.
"Welcome! I've heard a lot about you from Douglas."
"I'm honored to receive such hospitality from a leading figure in aviation. Yujin Kim, at your service."
Brigadier General Billy Mitchell was cheerful—and at the very least, he had enough sense not to call me a "yellow monkey" to my face. That was good enough.
…Or so I thought.
"Frankly, I've been curious since I heard you were coming. Are you here today as Doug's friend—or as the Chief of Staff's aide?"
"Both. As it happens, they both wished for you to be met."
His expression turned… peculiar.
"Doug probably told you to rein me in, and those stubborn old fossils likely sent you to shut my mouth, didn't they?"
Was he psychic? No—if he already knew everything, why did he keep running his mouth like that?
"Now then. Since you're here, hear me out. Once you've listened, you'll immediately realize how thoughtful, rational, and absolutely essential my proposal is!"
"Ah… yes…"
"The future belongs to those who seize the skies. We all learned the importance of air superiority during the Great War—but that was only the beginning.
Air superiority doesn't just provide tactical advantage. Can the army or navy burn down an enemy's capital or destroy its industrial complexes? Only the air force—an independent air force—can do that. Rather than throwing millions into trenches to die like dogs, it's far better to crush the enemy's will and capability to wage war through overwhelming bombardment!"
His insight was undeniably sharp.
But still… how long would it take before that became reality?
He had clearly seen the correct future—but in my view, that future was far too distant. It was no different from me grabbing people and preaching about the coming age of the internet.
Just think about World War II in the original timeline. The Allies gained air superiority and turned Germany into a sea of fire—but no amount of bombing broke Hitler and the Nazis' will. That only collapsed when the Soviet army flooded into Germany like a tidal wave and snapped their spine.
The era of strategic bombing he envisioned wouldn't truly arrive until something like a third world war with unrestricted nuclear use—or perhaps the Gulf War in the original timeline.
And yet, despite how far off that future was, his effort and passion—combined with his massive ego, confidence, and public campaigning—were already creating enormous conflict.
"Those incompetent navy fools still deny that the age of aircraft has arrived, clinging desperately to their obsolete battleships. The army's no different! Why can't they see the direction of the times?"
"Haha… still, hasn't aviation gained a stronger foothold thanks to the recent National Defense Act?"
"What nonsense! That was a filthy compromise! A 'take this and get lost' kind of deal. Those vermin fear the coming age of air power, so they've joined hands with politicians to hinder progress!"
"Hahaha…"
"I've heard you've got quite an open mind yourself. You even submitted aviation-related reports during the last war. So why are you obsessed with toys like tanks? If you have a brain and eyes, shouldn't it be obvious? With the budget for 100 tanks, you could build 10 bombers and wipe them out in a single blow!"
…This bastard.
You can't even grasp the realities of the current era, playing around like a firefly, and yet you dare insult my precious tanks?
I thought there'd at least be some camaraderie between us—both struggling under the same budget constraints—but it seems to Mitchell, tanks were nothing more than greedy parasites sucking up aviation funding.
Ah… forget MacArthur and all that. I'm already sick of him.
"Ha. Hahaha. In the end, doesn't every weapon have its own purpose?"
"What are you talking about? Even after I explain it like this, you still don't get it? Think about firearms. Once guns appeared, weren't obsolete weapons like bows, spears, and swords all pushed aside?
In the same way, the outdated branches of the army and navy will be pushed aside by the new era of the air force. And yet you still fail to understand something this simple—"
As I sat through his long-winded lecture, steadily building up irritation, I returned to the War Department in Washington, D.C. and immediately met with Chief of Staff Hines.
"So, what did you think of Brigadier General Mitchell?"
"He said he'd bury the army and build a church of the air force on top of it."
"That bastard really…."
I apologize, but I've got to survive too, don't I? I didn't even say anything wrong.
Playing with fire isn't just simple arson—it's a refined extreme recreational activity filled with tradition and humor. If I get burned alive along with it, then I'm just a lunatic arsonist—how could you call that playing with fire?
In that sense, there was no way little, weak Yujin Kim could join in on his reckless mouth that was making enemies of both the army and navy. Ten minutes was all it took for him to piss me off.
Even if I helped Mitchell and achieved good results, what would come out of it? The birth of an air force obsessed with strategic bombing? I don't need that.
What I—and the army that will face World War II—need is not a specialized air force stuck in the Stone Age of air-to-ground smashing.
Rather than getting close to Mitchell, it would be far better to build ties with Arnold, who would later become General of the Air Force. I already had some acquaintance with him in the past, so I should try reconnecting.
MacArthur must have known that too, which is why he sent me a letter asking me to keep an eye on things—but unfortunately, that man is beyond saving. Instead of trying to escape his grave, he's digging it even deeper!
"Well, whatever."
"You're really not going to take any action? At the very least, outside the military, public opinion is on Mitchell's side."
"So what? His term ends in March. That'll be the end of it."
Chief of Staff Hines spoke in a rather firm tone.
Considering that Mitchell had recently lashed out in Congress, calling people "incompetent traitors," and dragged him into the headlines overnight as one of those "incompetent figures," it was no wonder he was irritated.
To be fair, Mitchell had also criticized Pershing for being incompetent and unable to adopt new technologies. Personally, I didn't think that was entirely wrong—but at least I wasn't insane enough to say it out loud in front of the public and a crowd of journalists.
Offering a silent prayer for the late (future) "Unlucky Yujin Kim," Billy Mitchell, I accepted the thick stack of documents Hines casually pushed toward me.
"Enough about that. You've got quite a bit to review."
"What… exactly is all this?"
"What do you mean, what? If we're going to beg Congress for funding, we need a more thorough assessment of the current situation. I need you to inspect units across the country and write up a report."
"…Isn't this… far too heavy a burden for a mere major?"
"What are you talking about? Who could be more accurate than the Hero of Amiens conducting a firsthand inspection? And who else is as capable as you when it comes to unit organization? Lieutenant Colonel Marshall praised your abilities highly, so stop making excuses and get moving."
Maaaarshall!!
While I silently cursed him—probably laughing it up with his wife aboard a ship to China right about now—Chief of Staff Hines continued in a calm voice, with just a hint of amusement.
"And I hear you like to start various business ventures."
"That's not true. My family handles those matters—I would never abuse my authority or—"
"Sure, sure. Let's go with that. Soldiers making weapons for soldiers—what's there to criticize? Don't worry about trivial things like that. The point is, you developed exactly the weapon our troops needed, at precisely the right time."
Something… something smells like money.
The scent of business. Is this a reward for my efforts?
"Once we cut Mitchell loose, the aviation crowd is going to be furious. Tell me—are you interested in aircraft development?"
"Of course I am. I don't subscribe to Mitchell's extreme air-power absolutism, but it's clear that aircraft performance will become a core capability of the army in the future."
"I can't support you directly. To be blunt, I'm telling you to fund development with your own family's money. It'll take quite some time—are you fine with that?"
Even if it's not something I dare hope for, it's exactly what I wanted.
Getting tangled up in nonsense like military procurement corruption would be far worse. It's much better to win contracts through actual capability.
"I'm not a businessman, so I'll need to discuss things first. As you said, this isn't something that can be done in a day or two—or with a small amount of money…"
"I'm not telling you to do it immediately. Let me be clear—I just need a way to appease the aviation crowd once they get angry. Whether you fake it a little, or actually have your family enter aircraft manufacturing, that's entirely up to you."
Come on, how could I just half-ass it like that?
I'll at least get things started, ease into it like a small business—and when the Great Depression hits, that's when I go hunting for companies.
Since it's come to this, might as well start laying groundwork across the army, navy, and air force alike.
Big brother's got cash now. I'm not afraid of anything anymore!
***
Hello, this is Myeongwon. Did you have a good weekend?
Thanks to all your support, I'm feeling a bit better. I'd appreciate your continued encouragement going forward ^^
Halloween? I haven't seen a single human face for three days straight. I'm bitter about it… 😭
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