I Became a Tycoon During World War I: Saving France from the Start

Chapter 7: Turning Tractors into Tanks

Charles strolled through the tractor factory. In France, Francis's tractor factory was considered a large enterprise; there were only 257 companies nationwide with over a thousand employees, most of which were small operations with just 50 or 60 workers.

Francis's factory, however, had more than two thousand employees, thanks to his massive investment two years earlier to bring the "Holt 60" tractor to France. This was the world's first internal combustion engine crawler tractor, developed in 1911. With this advanced model, Francis had quickly outpaced his competitors, seizing 70% of the market and establishing his dominance in French agricultural machinery.

The entire town of Dawaz had benefited, with steady jobs for residents and an influx of workers from other regions, even as far as Paris. This, in turn, had driven up the cost of living and rent in the area.

The assembly workshop was enormous, with a dozen half-assembled tractors lined up in the center. Workers bustled around, the clanging of metal and the rattling of chains filling the air. Yet Charles noticed that the workers seemed distracted, working slower than usual.

It wasn't just the piles of unsold tractors clogging up the warehouse. It was the looming threat of the German advance, casting doubt on whether their efforts had any purpose.

As Charles was contemplating his next steps, he heard a familiar voice call his name. Turning, he saw Matthew poking his head out from behind a tractor, waving a wrench with a bright smile.

Charles smiled back and hurried over.

Matthew was Joseph's son, two years older than Charles and a former classmate from before high school. Likely due to his father's close ties to the Bernard family, Matthew had always looked out for Charles.

Charles had endured plenty of bullying over the years. Most of his classmates were children of farmers and workers exploited by capitalists. Some of their families had suffered wage disputes or work-related injuries without fair compensation, and others couldn't keep up with the bank's high interest rates of 5–10%—rates controlled by the powerful "200 Families" banking interests, though these issues weren't directly tied to the Bernard family.

With no way to seek justice, they took out their frustrations on Charles, the "little capitalist," giving him nicknames like "bastard," "vampire," and "hypocrite."

But whenever this happened, Matthew would stand up for him, shouting at the bullies with clenched fists, "You want a taste of my fists? Come on, you scumbags!"

Matthew never bothered reasoning with them—his fists did the talking. This approach had worked, allowing Charles to survive school and even high school without much harassment.

Matthew set down his wrench and gave Charles a hearty hug, unfazed by the oil on his work clothes.

"I heard you're in charge of the tractor factory now?" he said, beaming with genuine happiness. "I'm glad for you—looks like Francis has finally recognized you!"

Charles chuckled self-deprecatingly. "It's only temporary, and I don't care much about it."

"I was wondering," Matthew said, half-jokingly, glancing around, "if you're the boss here now, am I technically your employee? So, what should I call you?"

Charles put on an exaggeratedly pompous look, lifting his chin and folding his hands behind his back. "Young master Charles? Sir? Perhaps 'my lord'…"

"Get out of here!" Matthew laughed, slinging an arm around Charles's shoulder and giving him a playful shove.

A moment later, Matthew turned serious. "But you may not have this chance for long."

"Why not?" Charles asked, confused.

Matthew shrugged. "Don't forget, I'm nineteen."

"You got a draft notice?" A look of worry crossed Charles's face.

Matthew nodded. "They need more people. Unless something changes, I'll be heading to Paris for training the day after tomorrow."

France's legal conscription age was twenty, but in wartime, no one paid much attention to that, just as factories often employed underage child laborers.

Charles fell silent, trying to push back thoughts of possible outcomes: three out of four soldiers were wounded or killed, maybe an arm, maybe a leg, maybe both…

Sensing Charles's concern, Matthew tilted his head and laughed. "Don't worry, Charles! By the time I finish training, this war will be over. I'll be fine!"

Just as everyone thought—the war would be over soon, one way or another, within a month or two at most. But Charles knew otherwise.

"Young master Charles!" Joseph appeared before them, casting a disapproving glare at Matthew as if warning him to behave around Charles.

Matthew rolled his eyes at his father's overreaction, then waved at Charles and turned back to the half-assembled tractors, calling out with exaggerated cheer, "All right, ladies, who else needs dressing up?"

Ignoring his son, Joseph led Charles out of the workshop, apologizing, "I'm sorry, young master Charles. Matthew can be so rough around the edges."

"Young master, would you like a tour of the engine production line? It's the heart of the factory…"

"No, Joseph," Charles interrupted. "I need twelve fully operational tractors."

"Tractors?" Joseph gave Charles a puzzled look.

"And some steel plates," Charles added. "We have steel plates here, don't we?"

"Of course," Joseph replied. "This is a tractor factory. Many parts are made from pressed steel plates."

"What thicknesses do we have?" Charles asked.

Joseph listed them off, "Two millimeters, three, five, and nine millimeters."

The nine-millimeter steel was used to make the treads.

"Nine millimeters will do," Charles decided. "Also, I'll need a workshop, welding tools, skilled workers, and some paper and pens. Can you arrange that?"

"Of course!" Joseph answered, still slightly bewildered. "At your service!"

Joseph couldn't help but wonder if Charles was planning to modify the tractors, or if he simply saw them as playthings. Joseph wanted to remind him that this was a crucial time, with Francis watching closely to decide if Charles was worthy of taking over the factory. Now wasn't the time for rash decisions.

Yet Joseph kept his thoughts to himself; he saw a look of determination in Charles's eyes.

Perhaps he knows exactly what he's doing, Joseph thought.

While Joseph gathered the supplies, Charles sat in his office sketching designs. With the tractor chassis already available, converting it into a tank wouldn't be difficult.

It couldn't really be called a tank, more like an armored vehicle. All it needed was some steel plating around the tractor's frame, along with a few firing ports for machine guns. Cannons weren't necessary for now—they'd add too much weight and complexity. Machine guns would suffice.

The only drawback was that the nine-millimeter steel was too thin; a German Mauser rifle could penetrate it at around 100 meters. Charles considered doubling the steel plates, welding them to the chassis, but he doubted the "Holt 60" could handle that much additional weight.

A simpler solution was to angle the front armor, which would not only increase the likelihood of deflecting bullets but also increase the "effective thickness."

For weaponry, he'd use Hotchkiss machine guns, despite their limited rotation due to the clip-feed design. Two gunners and a driver would make up the crew—three men in total. The weight should be manageable.

As long as it moved, he didn't need speed or maneuverability. After all, this would be the first tank in history—and one built in a single day. Good enough was good enough; there'd be plenty of time to improve it later.

(End of Chapter)

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