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Updated: June 12, 2025
"He might, through the leak," said the chief aerostatic officer, who considered that many of his gallant subordinates had lost their lives through Bouchard's inefficiency. "Perhaps Clarissa Eileen has already telepathically wigwagged it to him." To lose your temper at a staff council is most unbecoming. Turcas would have kept his if hit in the back by a fool automobilist.
As their former chief entered a room in the disorder of maps and packing-cases, the staff-officers rose from their work to stand at salute like stone images, in respect to a field-marshal's rank. There was no word of greeting but a telling silence before Turcas spoke. His voice had lost its parchment crinkle and become natural.
No matter if we don't surprise the enemy. Haven't the Browns held their line with inferior numbers? If they have, we can hold the rest of ours. That gives us overwhelming forces at Engadir." "You take all responsibility?" asked Turcas. "I do!" said Westerling firmly. "And we will waste no more time. The premier supports me. I have decided. We will set the troops in motion."
Such things are too important to be concealed by one army from another." "Lanstron certainly cannot carry them in his pockets," remarked Turcas. "Still, we must be sure," he added thoughtfully, more to himself than to Westerling, who had already turned his attention to a document which Turcas had laid on the desk.
"Yes, I want to go into that it's a question of policy," said Westerling. He had taken up the paper thoughtfully after Turcas withdrew, when he looked up to Marta in answer to a movement in her chair.
"The 128th Regiment has been ordered to South La Tir, but no order yet given for the 132d, whose place it takes," Turcas went on. "Let it remain for the present!" Westerling replied. After they had withdrawn, the look that passed between Turcas and Bouchard was a pointed question. The 132d to remain at South La Tir!
With fierce energy he set to work detaching units of artillery and infantry from every part of the line and starting them toward Engadir. "This means an improvised organization; it breaks up the machine," said the tactical expert to Turcas when they were alone. "Yes," replied Turcas. "He wanted no advice from us when he was taking counsel of desperation.
That day and the next Westerling had no time fix strolling in the garden. His only exercise was a few periods of pacing on the veranda. Turcas, as tirelessly industrious as ever, developed an increasingly quiet insistence to leave the responsibility of decisions about everything of importance to a chief who was becoming increasingly arbitrary.
I believe both their aerial fleet and their high-angle artillery were greatly underestimated. Finally, I cannot reduce my force too much in scouting or they might rake the offensive." "Another case of not being informed!" concluded Turcas, returning grimly to his point. He looked at Bouchard, and every one began looking at Bouchard.
Reading books was one of the faults of Turcas, his assistant. No bookish soldier, he knew, had ever been a great general. He resented the growing power of these leaders of the civil world, taking distinction away from the military, even when, as a man of parts, he had to court their influence. His was the profession that was and ever should be the elect.
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