Chapter 452: Chapter 452: The Feeling of Being Valued
Shire was waiting for Dominic to ask his question, but Dominic was hesitating, sometimes fiddling with the shotgun and sometimes glancing at Shire, giving an impression that he wanted to speak but couldn’t bring himself to.
"Come on, Dominic." Shire held his coffee with a bitter smile: "You are completely different from when you are shooting."
"Well, it’s different, General." Dominic replied, a bit embarrassed: "I only feel confident when I’m holding a gun."
"You’re holding a gun right now." Shire raised his coffee cup towards the shotgun in Dominic’s hand: "And it’s a powerful shotgun."
"I mean shooting targets." Dominic scratched his head: "Or when designing firearms."
"Why is that?" Shire asked curiously.
Dominic shook his head slightly, his gaze shifting to the shotgun in his hand, lost in thought: "I don’t know, maybe, besides guns, I don’t have anything else I like or am good at, so I’m always isolated..."
"That’s enough." Shire said firmly: "This is wartime, and you designed such an excellent submachine gun, which surprised me."
"Is... is that so?" Dominic laughed, a bit shy from the compliment.
"Of course." Shire replied: "Have you heard of Browning from FN?"
Dominic nodded firmly: "Yes, General. Of course, everyone in the military industry knows him. He’s a genius firearms designer; Winchester clearly underestimated him, missing a big opportunity for development."
Shire understood what Dominic meant.
Browning was originally with Winchester in the United States, but at that time, American capitalists generally lacked strategic vision and parted ways with Browning over a contract dispute.
Browning wanted to independently own the "industrial property" of his firearms, while Winchester wanted to buy him out.
It was a joke; developing a firearm could earn enough to pay oneself a lifetime’s salary, yet Winchester wanted to buy him out with only a part of that money, and for all of Browning’s inventions.
Only a fool would agree to that.
So Browning resigned and hoped to join Remington, but unfortunately, the owner of Remington passed away during that time.
Eventually, Browning traveled all the way to Belgium to become FN’s chief firearms designer.
At that time, FN was on the verge of bankruptcy due to its inability to compete with Germany’s Mauser, and it planned to completely abandon the military industry and switch to manufacturing bicycles.
Browning’s arrival led to FN’s rapid rise and its establishment in the military industry market.
Dominic was referring to Winchester missing out on Browning’s talent.
(The image above shows a motorcycle produced by FN in 1914. Originally a motorcycle company, Belgium’s FN also made cars and entered the military industry by replicating Germany’s Mauser rifles.)
Shire nodded towards Dominic, speaking word by word: "You’re no worse than Browning, Dominic. I hope you can become the ’Browning’ of Saint-Étienne."
Dominic was taken aback: "No no, General. I... I’m far behind him; you don’t understand, for example, this gun."
Dominic held up the shotgun: "This is Browning’s design; it’s very suitable for civilian hunting..."
"Think about your own designs." Shire interrupted: "Saint-Étienne II, and this submachine gun."
"But they." Dominic blushed: "They are actually your designs."
"Technically speaking, they are my ideas, or my needs." Shire corrected: "You turned them into reality. Am I wrong?"
Dominic thought for a while before nodding slightly.
If there was any problem, it would be that Shire’s instructions and ideas were too detailed and clear, almost forming the concept in Dominic’s mind, essentially completing most of the design. Dominic only needed to implement it.
Shire asserted: "There are many things waiting for us to design, you might even surpass him, understand?"
Shire used "us" instead of "me," meaning Dominic was a part of it.
Shire didn’t mind sharing some "industrial property" with Dominic, like the PPD submachine gun, where Dominic had significant contributions.
This was a way to win over subordinates and make them wholeheartedly work for Shire, and also part of Shire’s plan for future collaboration with Saint-Étienne:
Shire believed Dominic should become the heir of Saint-Étienne, not his brother Layom.
"Yes, General." Dominic understood and nodded heavily, grateful as he looked at Shire.
Then Dominic added: "Thank you, General, not just for this."
Dominic didn’t care about "industrial property"; he didn’t even think much about Saint-Étienne. What he needed was to feel valued and respected.
Shire smiled and nodded to show he understood.
Then he put his coffee cup on the table and nodded towards the shotgun to encourage Dominic: "Go ahead, tell me, what problem do you see with this gun?"
"It’s not that it has problems, General," Dominic replied: "But I think it’s only suitable for hunting, not really for the battlefield. Its range is too short, only about 40 meters. If the enemy has a rifle, we would be shot before we can get close enough to use it."
"What else?" Shire asked.
"It has a wide spread, with many ineffective shots." Dominic explained while gesturing:
"We can imagine the pellets shooting out from the gun muzzle like a mass of cotton, gradually spreading out radially. By the time they reach 40 meters, the gaps between the pellets are large enough to contain several people."
"Even if we aim accurately, and the enemy is within range, we might still not be able to knock them down, or hit them with few pellets that are not fatal."
Shire nodded, Dominic indeed had a thorough analysis of the shotgun.
Range and pellet spread were ongoing issues with shotguns; they were only useful in specific environments, like trenches and urban combat.
But what about other situations?
In relatively open areas, would soldiers with shotguns just have to watch helplessly or await their death?
"What if I told you I have solutions to these problems?" Shire said: "Or at least partial solutions."
Dominic laughed:
"That’s impossible, General."
"If these problems were solvable, it wouldn’t be a shotgun."
But seeing Shire’s serious expression, Dominic was stunned.
"You... you really have a solution?"