Chapter 72
Chapter 72
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Invasion of Indochina (2)
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“Your Excellency, a telegram has arrived from the Army Ministry. They’ve established a beachhead in Indochina, and one division has successfully landed.”
What about it? That was a given.
Considering the overwhelming might of the Korean Navy, there was never any chance France could stop a landing.
Our allied fleet boasted the world’s third-largest tonnage. No way those French losers, who got curb-stomped by the Nazis, could stand up to us.
Not a snowball’s chance in hell.
I picked up the phone right away.
“Foreign Ministry line. Foreign Minister, Your Excellency. Get in touch with Paris immediately. Something along the lines of suggesting it’s time to end the clashes now.”
We’d shown the French they couldn’t stop us, so it was right to give Paris a chance to back down.
If we beat the crap out of the French too hard and left a deep grudge, it wouldn’t be good for the nation.
“General Baek, offer a temporary ceasefire too. Six hours sounds good.”
I gave the French a six-hour grace period, but Paris responded with stony silence.
Pétain, you old geezer, turning down our mercy?
No helping it, then.
More blood would have to be spilled.
I sent a telegram to Expeditionary Force Commander Baek Dong-seok.
“You, show no mercy until the French surrender. When Yankees get uppity about their pride, you have to hit them hard.”
“Understood.”
The French suffered defeat after defeat.
Wherever the Korean Navy’s influence reached, the French couldn’t handle our forces.
No matter how mighty the fortress, it was nothing but kindling before the allied fleet’s battleship main guns.
After a week like that, most of the major cities along the Vietnamese coast had fallen into the hands of the Korean Army and Marines.
Considering we hadn’t even committed a single armored regiment, it was an incredible feat.
“The snails must realize the reality now.”
I had another telegram sent to France.
The Foreign Ministry’s report made my irritation boil over.
“Prime Minister, Your Excellency. Paris says there will be no surrender, under any circumstances.”
What is it with these snails and their stubbornness?
This means we’ll have to borrow the commies’ hands, and that’ll make things awkward for everyone.
I ordered that captured French weapons be handed over to Ho Chi Minh.
‘Well, with all this bloodshed, postwar relations with France are half-ruined anyway.’
That said, I wasn’t scared.
Defying Korea and Cheonjin meant getting shut out of the vast East Asian market.
Ah, we’ve finally got some real weight to throw around.
‘Looking at it this way, Park Han-jin’s Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere wasn’t a total disaster.’
Park Han-jin’s ambition to swallow China, seize East Asia, and skyrocket hadn’t been bad on paper.
An economic bloc uniting Han, Zhong, and Il could stand toe-to-toe with the West’s top-tier powers.
Thinking it over again, maybe I should bump up Park Han-jin’s score a bit.
But that was it.
The Co-Prosperity Sphere was headed straight for a Hitler-style ending.
“Your Excellency, a telegram from the Army Ministry has arrived.”
What, more news?
No way the French surrendered already?
“Bring it here.”
I read the telegram without much thought.
“Ah, that bastard.”
Come to think of it, I’d forgotten about him.
Joseph Stilwell, the volunteer corps commander the Americans were sending.
Suddenly, my head started throbbing.
Expeditionary Force Commander Baek Dong-seok detailed the guy’s outrageous behavior at length, saying he had no idea how to coordinate operations with someone like that.
A prime example of his antics:
“This is an unofficial joint Korean-American operation. Therefore, I must observe all operations.”
That, I could understand.
“I also want equal say in operations with Korea.”
What?
Dragging along a thousand-man ragtag volunteer force and expecting equal footing with our 58,000?
Has this bastard lost his mind?
And that was just a tiny fraction of Stilwell’s shit list.
Behind Baek Dong-seok’s back, he called him “peanut.”
Pure racial discrimination, nothing more.
If you want to nitpick, it was his way of griping about not being obeyed, but what kind of crap is that from a commander representing his country?
He pulled stunts with supplies too.
We were short on logistics ships, so we’d informally borrowed American ones for transport capacity, but Stilwell claimed a share of whatever they carried.
You’d think it was insane, but Stilwell was doing exactly that.
The guy was beyond imagination.
Chiang Kai-shek’s endurance in putting up with him for two years suddenly felt terrifying.
With Stilwell pulling crap like that, the “harmonious” prewar cooperation with the American volunteers went out the window.
The bastard bombarded Washington with complaints from the field.
“The Koreans are scheming to swallow Indochina.”
“The Korean military government is clearly maneuvering to expand its influence.”
Wheelchair Man took it at face value and lodged a protest with us.
Like Korea’s got designs on Indochina or something.
I couldn’t tolerate the bastard’s antics anymore.
“If I let this guy slide, I’m not the Prime Minister of the Great Korean Empire.”
I fired off a telegram straight to Wheelchair Man.
Unlike Chiang Kai-shek, who endured two years, Korea’s national power wasn’t a pushover.
“President Roosevelt, Your Excellency. This man Joseph Stilwell is going berserk, sabotaging Korean-American cooperation. Frankly, I’m starting to suspect he’s a Nazi spy in Indochina. If Your Excellency continues entrusting him with vital duties, Korea will have no choice but to reconsider our friendship with the United States. I sincerely hope Your Excellency makes a magnanimous decision for the sake of our two nations’ relations.”
I straight-up pulled a “return to sender on Stilwell? Or sour our relations?” move.
I wouldn’t normally throw out such risky talk, but Stilwell wasn’t the kind you could just tolerate.
It wasn’t long before the U.S. government responded.
“We will relieve General Stilwell of command.”
The new volunteer corps commander would be General Hugh Drum.
Drum.
Just hearing the name soothed my chest.
Not because it sounded like a drumbeat, but because he was an icon of respect and trust.
At the very least, Drum was an Asia hand, not some thug like Stilwell.
“You, I got that bastard fired. So lighten up now.”
“Pardon? For real?”
“Have I ever bullshitted you?”
“No, you haven’t. Thank you, Your Excellency.”
Once Stilwell was sacked, the creaky Korean-American cooperation magically normalized.
“Please just share intelligence on military government matters. We’ll defer operational command to the Korean side.”
How gentlemanly is that?
That’s exactly why we’d invited the American volunteers in the first place.
And a week later, the French Army stationed in Indochina raised the white flag too.
French Army Commander General Gabriel Sabatier came to Saigon and signed the surrender documents.
“Please treat the surrendered troops leniently.”
“No worries. Our military abides by international law.”
It might sound hollow, but I meant it sincerely.
“You damn bandits! You think this means we’ll recognize your occupation of Indochina?!”
Paris threw a tantrum and hurled insults at us, but honestly, I didn’t give a damn.
I gave Baek Dong-seok just three orders.
“Coordinate military government with the Americans.”
“Crack down on Vietnam-China smuggling routes.”
“Don’t touch the French colonial administration.”
It’d be best not to meddle in Indochina at all if possible, but since we had, stopping at this level was right.
“Um, Your Excellency. Since we’ve occupied Indochina anyway, why not plant the Empire’s influence?”
Before more crazy talk like that could spill out.
Sigh, how did I end up surrounded by these militarists?
I never imagined as a kid I’d live in such a grim world.
Even after becoming a powerhouse who could blast my uncle-in-law with heavy artillery, day-to-day life wasn’t fun.
If anything, my forehead just sprouted more wrinkles from the grind.
Maybe I just didn’t know how to enjoy life.
My only pleasure was the occasional cigar.
What a barren existence.
Sure, I saw young women now and then, but they were just girls who sang a song at drinking parties and left—no real human connection.
I vented this worry to Jeong Gil, and this is what came back.
“It’s because you don’t have a woman by your side, Your Excellency. Why not consider remarriage while you’re at it?”
Family.
An unexpected topic.
Building a family in this world.
Thinking it over, it was kinda appealing.
“Remarriage might not be a bad idea, like you say.”
I didn’t add anything else.
When a dictator drops a casual remark, his aides handle the rest.
And exactly three days later, photos of young women landed on my desk.
Daughters or young sisters of our National Salvation Military Committee’s senior officers.
All of them flower-like girls in their late teens to early twenties, at a glance.
“You, is this really right?”
“What’s wrong with them, Your Excellency? They’re all marriageable age.”
None were ugly; they were all decent-looking.
Why these girls?
“The generals around Your Excellency all married this way.”
I see.
This wasn’t the romance-drenched 21st century; it was the cutthroat 20th century where political marriages ruled.
20th-century generals marrying young virgins as first or second wives wasn’t weird.
Even so, who did these guys think I was, some thief?
I, Lee Sung-jun, had a 21st-century mindset in this 20th-century world!
With the most honest gaze imaginable, I scanned the photos and picked one that caught my eye by chance.
A purely objective choice, devoid of any ulterior motive.
For Lee Sung-jun, Your Excellency, who toiled sleeplessly for nation and people, selfish desires had no place.
“That’s General Baek’s youngest daughter. I’ll set a date.”
And so, I acquired the Indochina Peninsula and got married at the same time.
A fitting reward for a leader who served his country selflessly.