The moment the deputy finished speaking, the chamber erupted in laughter. After all, compared to his promises of making France the world's second-greatest power, resolving the economic crisis, and carving out new territory on the European continent, the French Second Republic's current predicament was rather laughable.
Faced with the mockery, Dan Gira had lost the wit and humor he'd once had—or perhaps he simply wasn't used to being mocked.
"Germans occupied Rome? Who told you that? And who told you they're rushing toward Paris?"
Dan Gira's sudden challenge irritated the deputy.
"That's an accepted fact!"
"Accepted by whom?"
For a moment, the deputy couldn't think of a retort. The facts might be right there, but what counted as accepted was subjective. If even one person refused to accept it, then it couldn't be called accepted.
"And you must believe that our army can keep the Austrians and Germans out!
"If even you, the most far-sighted people in France, don't believe we can win, then does France have a tomorrow? Deputy Pidou, watch your words!"
Dan Gira had seized control of the floor again.
"Gentlemen! The French Second Republic has reached its most perilous hour! We must stand together in perfect unity!"
The deputies had had enough of Dan Gira's long-winded speech. They started jeering from the floor.
"Mr. Speaker, please get to the point!"
Dan Gira was furious, but there was little he could do. After all, the French Second Republic was still a parliamentary republic.
He was beginning to understand Napoleon and Robespierre. Great ideas, after all, were bound to go over the heads of the masses. In Dan Gira's eyes, these so-called French elites before him were no better than swine.
But he needed those swine to pass a new Wartime Code. Only then could France secure enough