Chapter 27: The Special Military Act

"Very good." De Gaulle smiled upon hearing the news. The establishment of the First French Army had contributed immensely to the early Free French movement.

For this reason, De Gaulle had always admired Dragoon’s initial efforts to restore order. Now was the critical moment to incorporate the armed forces of the French Communist Party; having a reliable army return to the homeland would go a long way in minimizing trouble.

"I hear the Prime Minister’s office is drafting a Military Marriage Law to guarantee the marriages of soldiers and stabilize their families," De Gaulle mused. "Once finalized, announce it immediately. It will apply to all newly formed French military personnel, but will exclude non-regular armed forces."

The so-called non-regular armed forces, of course, referred to the illegal militias under the French Communist Party.

Henri Frey understood instantly. The First Army would return to the homeland backed by military strength to intimidate the Communists, while the Military Marriage Law would serve as bait to lure Communist fighters into joining the real French army, thereby dismantling the Communist armed forces.

At the Bastille, Korman, who had just finished promoting a collaborator, flexed his arms. In this environment, there were plenty of ways to vent one’s pent-up aggression.

"Is the old lady you met also a collaborator?" Alan asked, curious about the true nature of Chanel, who had just left the prison. Upon hearing the answer, he curled his lip. "Why are there so many traitors?"

"France has its own national conditions," Korman replied in a tone that suggested Alan wouldn't understand. Ultimately, this situation boiled down to the fact that France had resigned itself to its fate.

The First and Second World Wars were entirely different in nature. The outbreak of World War I was a process where no nation was truly prepared; the belligerents were caught in a spiral of diplomatic brinkmanship—"you mobilize, so I mobilize"—each hoping the enemy would compromise.

Although they underwent rapid mobilization, the high command of each country was unprepared for the form the war would eventually take. The troops, hastily mobilized, all believed the war would not last long; then, all romantic notions of war were thoroughly ground away by four years of trench warfare.

In the Second World War, every participating nation, including France, knew the conflict was inevitable and was psychologically prepared. Even a country like Poland maintained a standing army of one million to prevent a German invasion. From the very beginning of the war, the belligerents were already in a state of total conflict.

Thus, the claim that Germany had not fully mobilized was nonsense. The European powers were ready for war before it officially began.

France was no different. With a population of thirty-nine million, the mobilized force was the absolute limit of its capacity. The Maginot Line was intended to force the German army to detour through Belgium, hoping the flames of war could be contained within Belgian territory to avoid a repeat of the scorched earth that had devastated northern France in the Great War.

However, when the French army rushed to the Belgian border, it was cut in half. Two million French soldiers were sent to POW camps; over five percent of the population became prisoners in less than a month. At that point, there was no point in fighting—even in World War I, French casualties did not exceed two million.

After the Napoleonic Wars, France had entered a stage of low population growth and had abandoned dreams of hegemony, shifting its foreign policy toward an alliance with Britain. After the Franco-Prussian War, realizing it could not face Germany alone, France began to court Imperial Russia.

These actions demonstrated that France knew a head-on confrontation with Germany would result in catastrophe. The First World War only reinforced this realization; thus, when Dunkirk happened, the morale of all of France collapsed.

The abundance of collaborators was simply a sign that the French had accepted their defeat. If they couldn't beat the Germans, then cooperating with them was not an unthinkable option. Resistance figures like De Gaulle were in the absolute minority.

But if this were discussed openly, Alan might despise the local French residents, so Korman could only brush it off with the excuse of "France's national conditions."

"Find me the intellectuals in prison, especially those pro-German writers," Korman said, unwilling to continue bickering with Alan about this issue, though he was quite skilled at using one topic to cover up another.

Although the narrative of Germany committing cultural aggression against France was a frame-up manufactured by Korman to prepare for future social cohesion and a baby boom, this injustice could be put to use. Korman, possessing the skills of a political pugilist, could use this to strike back at the Germans.

Didn't the Germans boast of their many superior virtues?

Precision was just rigidity; honesty was just tactlessness; rationality was just a lack of sexual tension; and self-reflection was just a lack of confidence.

At first, Korman’s involvement in short stories was merely to feed garbage to French men, but now that he had started, he couldn't keep it small. He needed a professional group to do the job. As long as it was done well, even collaborator writers could be transformed into state witnesses.

In the first phase, he wanted to make German men the "floor tiles" for all other European men outside of Germany. Whenever German men were mentioned, it should imply they were neither loyal nor romantic, taciturn and humorless—the refuse of the marriage market. Even if the German economy were to develop in the future, this impression had to follow them like a shadow.

As for the next phase, he hadn't thought it through yet. This phase alone would take quite some time. He had decades to exercise cultural bullying over this defeated nation. As Secretary Yuliang once said, what’s the rush?

***

Upon learning that Dragoon was on his way back, De Gaulle threw his first punch at the French Communist Party, starting with the very definition of a French soldier.

That evening, at the provisional government headquarters, De Gaulle gathered his staff. The room was thick with smoke, almost thick enough to cut, yet the General seemed not to notice.

"Gentlemen," he tapped the table with his knuckles, "our army's morale is low, and the nation's cohesion is in grave danger. The Germans have taken our dignity, and now we must take it back."

Minister of Finance René Pleven cleared his throat. "General, our treasury is nearly empty. Reconstruction requires funds, and the Americans—"

"The Americans will wait," De Gaulle interrupted. "The first problem we must solve is the human one. Our soldiers need hope, and the nation needs newborns." He stood up, walked to the window, and turned his back to the group. "I have decided to issue a new decree: The Military Marriage Act."

A heavy silence filled the meeting room.

"What are the specific details?" the Minister of the Interior asked tentatively.

De Gaulle turned around, a flicker of steely resolve in his eyes. "Any active-duty soldier who marries will receive a government marriage allowance, priority housing, and subsidies for their children's education. During their service, regardless of the reason, the soldier's partner will be held fully responsible in the event of an extramarital affair. Any marital issues involving soldiers will be handled by military tribunals. Of course, we only recognize the army of the French state; armed forces loyal to a specific party or whose allegiance to the country is unknown are excluded."

"This will require a massive amount of capital..." the Finance Minister began calculating again.

"It is cheaper than war," De Gaulle said coldly. "I want to see it take effect immediately."

The Military Marriage Act was published at once. The streets and alleys of Paris were plastered with notices of the new law, sparking heated discussions among the citizens.