1885, I came to save Greece

Chapter 111 A newspaper is worth a thousand words

In the royal study, Constantine was having a secret meeting with someone.

The visitor was the editor-in-chief of the Athens Daily Mail, a slightly overweight middle-aged man wearing gold-rimmed glasses. His newspaper was known for its keen sense of trends, bold statements, and close following of royal opinions, which made it a top seller.

Instead of immediately producing the documents, Constantine leisurely poured him a cup of black tea.

"Mr. Editor, the citizens of Athens have been living a bit too comfortably lately. I have a story here that might wake everyone up."

The editor-in-chief immediately sat up straight; he sensed a major news story.

Constantine pushed an unsigned document in front of him.

The editor-in-chief adjusted his glasses, and after just one glance, his breath caught in his throat for half a second.

The document is short, but every word carries immense weight.

"The Ottoman Empire...secretly negotiated with the German Mauser arms factory, planning to procure the newly developed German Model 1888 Commission Rifle for its entire army..."

"Your Highness...is this...is this information reliable?" The editor-in-chief's voice was very low, and behind his glasses, his eyes shone with a mixture of excitement and greed.

"Does reliability matter?" Constantine tapped his finger lightly on the table. "What matters is that the Ottomans had this idea, and that's enough. Your readers don't need a procurement contract; they need a warning, a nightmare hanging over their heads."

He paused for a moment and looked at the editor-in-chief.

"I don't want analysis, I don't want speculation. I want a painting, a painting that will make every Greek father worry about his son who has joined the army."

"On the left is our soldier, standing alone, holding a Grass rifle that his father, or even his grandfather, had used. On the right is a Turkish man whose face is obscured."

The man, but his gun, must be painted as new and shiny, with the shadow of the muzzle aligned with our soldiers.

Constantine's tone was calm, but the editor-in-chief's palms were sweating.

"Let's call the title 'The Sudanese sword is sharpened once again! Are we still using firewood sticks?!' Simple, powerful, and understandable to every literate person."

The editor's mind raced; he already envisioned the newspapers selling out tomorrow. This wasn't just news; it was a gold mine!

"Your Highness, I understand completely. Rest assured, tomorrow morning, all of Athens will smell gunpowder." He put away the documents, bowed respectfully, and left the study.

The next morning.

The entire city of Athens was set ablaze by a single newspaper.

The Daily Mail's front page headline, printed in oversized, blood-red font, carried a headline powerful enough to send chills down the spines of every Greek:

—"The Sultan's sword is sharpened once more! Is our army still using firewood sticks?!"

Below the title is a striking comparison image. The Greek soldier on the left has a sorrowful face, and the single-shot rifle in his hand looks so powerless. The Ottoman soldier on the right is depicted as a huge black shadow, except for the clear, cold lines of his German-made rifle, the outline of the magazine piercing everyone's eyes.

The article, using the most inflammatory language, carried out a veritable massacre on paper.

"While our soldiers were still struggling to load a single bullet, the Turks were already unleashing a magazine of death upon us! Effective range, accuracy, rate of fire... we were completely outmatched!"

"This is not war, this is murder! It is the deliberate murder of our soldiers' lives!"

"What are our generals doing? What is our War Department doing? When the enemy has already equipped themselves with new swords, are we going to use 'honor' and 'tradition' to stop bullets?!"

The news spread like wildfire through the streets and alleys of Athens.

In the café, leisurely conversations turned into heated arguments. On the university campus, students spontaneously gathered, anger and anxiety etched on every young face. In the market, olive vendors cursed the Ottomans and the incompetence of the army.

The citizens, having just emerged from the shadow of Zaimis's treason case, had their renewed confidence in the country instantly replaced by anxiety about external threats. Long-dormant nationalist sentiment was ignited by this fire!

The anger quickly spread to the parliament.

Inside the Parliament building, an opposition MP known for his scathing remarks slammed a copy of the Daily Mail onto the table.

"Speaker! I demand an immediate explanation from the War Department! I demand that General Kolo Cortronis himself appear before Parliament to be questioned!" he roared hoarsely. "The people have the right to know whether their taxes have turned into new carriages in the general's mansion or into bullets to protect their country!"

"A thorough investigation is necessary! If the Army Department cannot provide a satisfactory response, we will collectively veto next year's military budget!"

Questions poured into the War Department, aimed directly at the old-school generals who were obstructing reforms.

For the first time, Kolocotronis and his colleagues felt the overwhelming pressure from the public and parliament. They were used to being domineering in military meetings, but they never imagined that one day they would become the target of public and political criticism.

This is a war they are completely unfamiliar with and unable to cope with.

The entrance to the General Staff Headquarters building.

As soon as General Kolocotronis's carriage came to a stop, he was surrounded by a group of people.

They were students from the University of Athens. Their young faces burned with the flames of idealism and undisguised anger.

"General! Please answer us! Is what the newspaper says true?" a student representative shouted.

Kolokotronis's face darkened, and he snapped, "Military secrets! How dare you pry into them like this! Disperse!"

His imposing presence, which in the past would have silenced any soldier, had no effect on these hot-blooded young men.

"We just want to know if our country is safe!"

"General, you are a descendant of heroes of the War of Independence; you cannot stand idly by and watch Greece fall into danger once again!"

"I've heard you oppose modernization reforms in the army, is that true?"

The questions grew increasingly sharp, like tiny knives piercing his proud pride.

A thin student standing at the very front, his face flushed, mustered all his courage and shouted out the most heart-wrenching words:

"General, do you want our brothers to fight the Turks' new guns with sticks in hand?!"

Fire poker!

These words were like a resounding slap across Kolokotronis's face.

He had spent his life in the military, achieving great feats, and had never suffered such humiliation! He wanted to refute it, but found himself speechless.

Should he tell these students that the reforms would affect his and his colleagues' interests? Should he tell them that the money was used to embezzle funds and turned into estates and jewels?

He can't say anything.

Faced with overwhelming public opinion, all explanations are pale and powerless.

The once-powerful old general was now surrounded by a group of unarmed students, his face ashen and him utterly disheveled. He could only squeeze through the gates of the General Staff Headquarters, practically fleeing, under the fierce protection of his guards.

Behind them, the students shouted angrily and resentfully.

Kolo Cortronis leaned against the cold door, his chest heaving. Listening to the sounds outside, for the first time, he began to waver in his adherence to "tradition" and "honor."

He realized that times had changed.

The young crown prince's methods were far more troublesome than he had imagined.