Imperial Elite

Chapter 32 Vacation

Chapter 32 Vacation
As it turned out, Company Commander Daniel's inside information was surprisingly accurate. Before Joe could even start writing his report by the deadline, orders came from his superiors.

His Majesty is very satisfied with your service. Now that you are the Royal Armoured Regiment, pack up and go back to London for retraining and expansion!
Upon hearing the news, everyone was overjoyed and began packing their bags to flee with the speed of a tornado destroying a parking lot.

Although everyone in the unit was happy, their reasons for being happy were all different. For example, Cecil and Company Commander Daniel, who were finally discharged from the hospital, were happy that our hard work had earned our unit a royal title, something we could brag about for the rest of our lives.

As a constitutional monarchy, since the royal family has ceded power to parliament, parliament feels that it cannot be complacent and must show respect to the royal family.

Thus in Bonitania, the navy was the Royal Navy, the post office was the Royal Post Office, and even societies and the Red Cross had to bear the title of Royal. This title was both an honor and a sign that everyone was devoted to His Majesty, who was their only sun. Even if His Majesty did not directly manage these institutions, these institutions all indicated that they served His Majesty.

Logically speaking, if the navy has a royal title, then the army, which also has a long tradition and history, should also have a royal title.

But that's not actually the case.

In the past, a minor conflict erupted between Parliament and the Royal Family over who the Bonitania belonged to, resulting in a slight injury to His Majesty the Supreme Emperor.

Even though Parliament and the Royal Family eventually reached an agreement on whose Bonitania it was, successive emperors were never very satisfied with the army. They always thought of the army as a bunch of rebels, and how could they give royal titles to rebels?

Therefore, the Bonitania Army never received a royal title like the navy, which was the royal family's own son. Only some elite units, such as the Royal Scots Regiment, the Royal Fusiliers Regiment, and the Royal Guards Cavalry, received the royal title.

Being granted a royal title by the troops they served was enough for these honor-loving nobles to gain a high level of prestige, second only to being awarded a medal, allowing them to boast to their friends about their outstanding performance on the battlefield after returning home.

For people like Joe and Herbert, who came from lower-middle-class backgrounds, the reason for their happiness was quite simple.

Finally, I can get away from the front lines and go back. I don't want to stay on this battlefield for even a second longer.

With everyone displaying astonishing efficiency, the heavy machine gun regiment, soon to be renamed the Royal Tank Regiment, withdrew from the Somme front at lightning speed back to London.

When Joe stepped off the ship and saw London shrouded in fog, he didn't lament, as he had when he first arrived in London, that the air quality was unsuitable for human habitation.

Instead, they were exclaiming in relief, "It wasn't easy! I'm damn lucky to have come back alive!"

Logically speaking, troops withdrawn from the front lines to their homeland should have some time off.

But the gentlemen at the top clearly didn't think that way.

Just as Joe and his group put down their luggage at the campsite in the suburbs of London, they were about to explore the area for pubs so they could get together for a good drink and start enjoying their holiday.

Colonel Els brought both good news and bad news.

The good news is that because of everyone's hard work on the Somme, the higher-ups have decided to expand the tank force and promote all personnel, with a minimum promotion of one rank.

Promotion is certainly a good thing, but before everyone could even start cheering, Colonel Els announced some bad news.

Due to the tight schedule and heavy workload of the expansion, all holidays except weekends have been canceled. Everyone is now training new recruits, and with the new tanks arriving soon, everyone is making the most of their time to familiarize themselves with the equipment.

The holiday has started, but it's not a complete holiday, which has caused some fluctuations in everyone's mood.

Joe was clearly the one whose emotions were the most turbulent.

What does it mean that new tanks are coming soon?

Translate this for me: what the hell do you mean by "the new tanks are coming soon"?

I submitted such a thick report and didn't get any response. They just told me the new tanks were about to arrive.
The news made Joe's expression rather unpleasant, or rather, extremely unpleasant. Even Colonel Els and Company Commander Daniel, who knew about the minor friction between Joe and the Land Battleship Committee, felt that Joe had to be given a leave, even if it was just to rest for two days.

Otherwise, it would be bad if Joe brought this kind of emotion into his work.

After all, Els and Daniel, who were about to become major general and major, had already received the personnel list for their upcoming assignment to the Royal Tank Regiment.

How would you describe this list?
It is well known that London's air quality has always been less than ideal for reasons that the authorities never acknowledge.

When winter arrives and London is shrouded in thick fog, aristocratic families would choose to leave London and move to their country estates or villas.

When spring arrives, the wind disperses the thick fog, and the gentle summer sun shines on the lawns, the nobles who have spent the winter in the countryside will return to London to begin their social season.

The list that Colonel Els was holding gave him the feeling that it wasn't a list of recruits for a new unit, but rather a guest list for a party during the social season.

With so many celebrities arriving, they didn't want Joe, who was clearly in a bad mood, to cause trouble on impulse.

So when Joe returned to his barracks grumbling, Els and Daniel found him and said, "You've had a tough time lately. We know you did a terrible job this time. There's nothing we can do to help you, so we're giving you two days off. Go to London and relax."

When you get back, you can't keep a sullen face anymore.

Feeling down, Joe drove the captain's convertible away from the camp to clear his head. He drove all the way to London, where he smelled the pungent odor in the air and the distinctive smell of burning coal and charcoal for winter heating.

After Joe's mood improved slightly, a question came to mind.

That is, how should I spend these two days of vacation?

I definitely need to go home. It only takes five or six hours to get back to York from London by train. I can go today and come back tomorrow, and I can also check if those three little rascals have been behaving themselves lately.

But besides going home, Joe hesitated whether he should also make a trip to East London.

Anyone with even a slight understanding of London knows that East London is no pleasant place. As London's industrial area, it's practically hell.

It is said that after arriving in the East End, the workers here only have 2 to 3 years left to live, and compared with some of the workers here, the Harrison family used to live in a mansion where the whole family squeezed into one room.

In East London, some people even rent ropes to workers so they can sleep standing up in their rooms.

London's East End, which has been ravaged to this extent, is clearly not a suitable place for a holiday relaxation, and normal people wouldn't go there unless they had nothing to do.

But among those rascals under Joe's command, there was one guy who came from East London.

The guy who killed the Teutonic giant who almost killed Joe with a bayonet was from East London.

Although Joe had sent money to his family before, now that he was in London, Joe felt he should still go and see them.

After all, their family's life would obviously not be good after losing a major source of income, and if they needed it, Joe, who owned a factory, wouldn't mind providing them with a job.

Joe arrived in the East District very soon.

Upon entering, Joe realized that this place was nothing like the capital of the world's largest country.

The streets were littered with years of garbage and what looked like excrement. No one had cleaned them up, and over the years, they had mixed together into a thick layer of silt from being trampled on. Even in winter, these things, mixed with the smells coming from the factory, made Joe feel as if he had returned to the front-line trenches in the early morning.

The streets were almost deserted, and the few who did appear were pale-faced and emaciated, like ghosts crawling out of a graveyard.

Joe, who had worked in the factory, knew that this was what people looked like after long-term exposure to toxic chemicals and the destruction of their health by overwork. Judging from their appearance, they probably wouldn't make it through the winter.

After wandering around the streets, Joe arrived at an apartment building according to the address he remembered.

Like the rest of the neighborhood, this apartment building was dirty, old, and dilapidated. It seemed the last time anyone cleaned it was during the time when the Duke of Protectorate was beating up the royalists, or perhaps it hadn't been maintained since the dark brown building was constructed. The wooden shutters outside the windows on the street-facing wall swayed precariously, making Joe worry they might fall down at any moment. The residents inside clearly shared this concern, covering the windows with newspapers to ensure privacy and also to keep the rooms a little warmer.

Looking at the apartment building, which resembled ruins, Joe couldn't understand how such an environment could raise such a robust person as that brat.

Although he was a little confused, it didn't stop Qiao from getting out of the car and knocking on the door of the apartment building.

Like most apartment buildings, the landlord of this building also lived here. After Joe knocked on the door, he saw a military officer wearing medals standing at the door. The landlord immediately told Joe with a cold face as if Joe were a Teutonic, that everyone here had gone to work and there was no one who could serve His Majesty.

Joe was somewhat surprised by the landlord's wary attitude. Had things gotten this serious with recruiting people to fill gaps in the network? Were those white-feathered individuals even targeting East London?

This is the land that produced Jack the Ripper, surely they know that?

Although somewhat puzzled, Joe told the landlord that he wasn't there to recruit soldiers, but to find someone.

After giving the young man's name, Joe said that he was his superior and that he had returned to China to check on the young man's family situation.

Upon hearing Joe's words, the landlord immediately showed an embarrassed expression, and then slammed the door shut with a "ping!"

When Joe knocked on the door again, the landlord simply said that there was no such person there and that Joe had come to the wrong place.

This reaction was clearly not right, and Joe immediately realized something was amiss.

Although he had run into a brick wall with this landlord, there was more than one apartment building on the street. After Joe knocked on the door of another apartment building and handed the landlord ten shillings, the landlord became very open and honest with him.

After the guy Joe inquired about joined the army, his family's life became difficult. Then, three months after that guy joined the army, his wife started bringing people to the apartment. Every time she brought people back to the apartment, she would send her children out to play on the street.

This continued until she received news of the man's death, and then she never saw the woman on that street again, except for her children who would occasionally appear on the street.

If nothing unexpected happens, that woman should have abandoned her child and run away.

Just last week, their landlord also kicked the child out onto the street, citing that the rent had expired.

"Sigh, what a tragedy..."

The landlord next door, having taken the money, shook his head, clutched it, and retreated into his apartment to close the door. Just then, Joe grabbed the door and pulled it shut.

"That child."

Joe stared into the eyes of the landlord next door and asked.

"Do you know where that child is right now?!"

It seemed that rolling around on the battlefield had given Qiao a certain aura, and the landlord next door, who was being glared at by Qiao, said with a slight tremor.

"I know, that kid set up a makeshift shelter on the street corner with some of the things that had been thrown out. I felt sorry for him and gave him a piece of bread yesterday!"

As he spoke, the landlord next door pointed towards the street corner.

Qiao released his hand from the door, allowing the landlord next door to successfully close the door.

At this moment, Qiao's feelings were hard to describe. She felt a little relieved, but also a little guilty. Perhaps if she hadn't sent them money, that woman wouldn't have run away, and the child wouldn't have ended up on the streets.

But if I hadn't sent her the money, I wouldn't have known she was such a scoundrel.

While these thoughts were running through his mind, Joe came to the street corner and saw a tiny shack made of dirty blankets, scraps of wood, and newspapers—just big enough for a child to squat in.

A dirty child, looking like a little mouse, was squatting in the shack, boiling water from a broken can using trash he had picked up from the street.

Whether it was the black smoke rising from the burning garbage or the mess of life, the child's eyes were filled with tears.

Seemingly noticing that Joe had stopped in front of him, the child looked up at Joe.

Upon seeing Joe's military uniform, the boy smiled.

"Good day, sir. Is there anything I can help you with? I know this neighborhood very well. If you need directions, I can help you. My father was also a soldier, but unfortunately he went to the Somme, so now I'm all alone here."

Looking at the child in front of him, Joe squatted down in front of him.

"Son, is your father William George Brown?"

The child stared wide-eyed at Joe.

"Sir, do you know my father?"

Joe smiled and nodded.

"Yes, he saved my life. Get up, child, now I am your guardian."

Joe stood up and reached out his hand to the child.

"Sorry I'm late."

The child looked at Joe with an expression of disbelief, as if Joe were an angel from heaven.

Then tears welled up in the child's eyes.

"I'm sorry, sir... I was just... too excited..."

The child wiped away tears as he tried to stand up from the shack, but the tears on his face flowed like a burst dam and he couldn't stop them.