CHAPTER 77: CHAPTER 86: INTELLIGENCE

Italy is also an Allied nation.

However, this ally had basically been disarmed. Aside from the more than a million Italian troops who surrendered to Germany and were reorganized by the Germans into the puppet Italian Social Republic’s army, the hundreds of thousands of troops in the south loyal to the monarchy had, by the end of 1943, effectively been disarmed.

Their planes were grounded at airfields, their weapons locked away in warehouses.

As for national security?

Well, since they were now allies, the British and Americans would take care of that.

Faced with this situation, Italian Prime Minister Badoglio, in order to ease the government’s financial burden, directly announced demobilization—overnight, hundreds of thousands of Italian soldiers were demobilized.

It must be said, the later collapse of the Kingdom of Italy was directly related to this "brilliant" move by Badoglio.

Among those demobilized were several thousand pilots, many of whom, after Italy’s surrender, had flown their planes from northern airfields to the south on orders. Yet, they never imagined they’d be abandoned by the king overnight.

When Pierre was in Italy, he often saw those unemployed, homeless, and penniless Italian soldiers on the streets.

Naturally, when he learned of the pilot shortage back home, he suggested this idea.

"Italian pilots?"

The old statesman thought for a moment and said,

"Would that work?"

"It’ll work. After all, we’re not asking them to fight. Italians might not be good at fighting, but surely they can fly transport planes, right?"

Pierre continued,

"We can hire them in the name of our national airline and have them fly transport planes for us. Didn’t Marshall say that as long as we have pilots, he’ll give us planes? If he gives us planes, we can transport as many supplies as possible back home. If he doesn’t, we’ll expose the Americans’ hypocrisy."

The old statesman was momentarily stunned, looking at Pierre with new eyes. After thinking for a moment, he said,

"Alright, I’ll try to contact the authorities back home. If... well, there shouldn’t be any problem!"

As it turned out, there was absolutely no problem on the home front. For a country desperately in need of weapons and ammunition, as long as someone could bring in equipment, they’d be willing to hire not just Italian pilots—even Japanese pilots, if they were willing.

After all, by 1944, the country was almost at the end of its rope.

As for Marshall, he was telling the truth—America did have planes, but not enough pilots. There were thousands of C-46s sitting idle at American airfields—these so-called "flying coffins" were never popular with the military, relegated to secondary roles, and even had notices issued...

A notice was issued prohibiting this aircraft model from participating in airdrop missions. Yet, it remained the best choice for flying over the Hump and was the mainstay of the Hump route. Only the C-46 could handle the vast range of adverse conditions encountered on the "Hump Route"—unpredictably violent weather, heavy cargo loads, high-altitude terrain, rudimentary facilities, and airfields that frequently flooded.

With the right pilots, these unpopular transport planes could fulfill their purpose. As for the so-called "flying coffins," well, as long as it was Italians dying and not Americans, it was deemed acceptable. In fact, from the perspective of people like Marshall, hiring Italian pilots was actually a good way to reduce American casualties.

Thus, in just half a month, over five hundred Italian pilots and ground crew, under the guise of employees of the China National Aviation Corporation, boarded Allied planes to India and appeared at airfields in Assam.

Although Italians were not renowned for their prowess in combat, as Pierre had said, they were competent transport pilots. In fact, in some respects, the Italian pilots were even better suited to the Hump route than their American counterparts—after all, their flight training included extensive exercises flying over the Alps.

Thanks to the efforts of these pilots, within just a month, the volume of cargo transported along the Hump route increased by more than 60%, surpassing the 20,000-ton mark. Of this, 8,000 tons were supplies donated by Pierre.

"The first batch of supplies transported back to China includes 28,000 Type 79 rifles, 1,200 Type 42 dual-purpose machine guns, 4,760 1.45cm PzB783(R) anti-tank rifles, 120 7.62cm FK 288/1(r) field guns, and 320 12cm Granatwerfer 378(r) mortars..."

After reading the report, Lautrey made a point of addressing Pierre:

"Mr. Pierre, these weapons are already being distributed to elite frontline units back home. With this advanced equipment, our soldiers will shed less blood and be able to reclaim lost territory more quickly."

Putting away the report, Lautrey couldn’t help but size up the man before her. He was young and handsome—just looking at him could make one’s heart race.

But... this man was a philanderer. He seemed to be living with that Hollywood actress.

Yes, a womanizer.

For Lautrey, who was only seventeen, this judgment seemed perfectly reasonable.

"Let’s hope so," Pierre replied, still looking somewhat grave. He glanced at the calendar—it was already February 27. By his calculations, there wasn’t much time left.

"Oh, right, Miss Lautrey, please pass on a message to Chairman Song. Through certain channels, I’ve learned that the Japanese are planning a new offensive to open up the mainland transportation lines. They will be gathering several hundred thousand troops to launch simultaneous attacks toward Guangxi and Henan. I hope preparations can be made in advance."

Thinking of the series of consequences brought about by the failure of the "Henan-Hunan-Guangxi Campaign," Pierre felt uneasy. He didn’t know if these weapons could change anything, but doing something was better than doing nothing.

Would this intelligence help the country prepare in time?

Pierre wasn’t sure, but there wasn’t much more he could do. He could only rely on the liaison secretary before him to pass the information on to the "Imperial Uncle," hoping preparations could be made and defenses strengthened in both regions.

"Really?" Lautrey exclaimed in surprise.

"Yes. Tell Chairman Song that the intelligence came from a friend of mine in Europe," Pierre replied, looking up at the girl before him, her features as delicate as a porcelain doll. He smiled, "He’ll understand."

Of course he would. After all, the Imperial Uncle had once wondered how the fleet could cross the Atlantic unscathed. Although Pierre had never spelled it out, the Imperial Uncle had filled in the blanks himself.

Some things are universal—there are plenty of people like the Imperial Uncle everywhere.

"Alright, I understand. Is there anything else?" the girl asked.

After confirming there was nothing more, she stood up to take her leave.

As the door closed, Pierre glanced at the calendar again, his brow furrowing. He leaned back in his chair and muttered to himself, "Let’s hope this will make a difference..."

Just then, the shrill ring of the telephone interrupted him. He got up to answer, and the voice on the other end made his expression change abruptly. He asked urgently, "How could this happen? Is everyone alright?!"