Date: March 8th, 1905 – Belgrade, Kingdom of Serbia
Petar awoke on the morning of March 8th with a clarity of purpose that had solidified since his disorienting arrival in this era. The previous day's visit to the 7th Infantry Regiment had moved his concerns from the abstract realm of reports and briefings into the tangible reality of worn leather, inadequate equipment, and the earnest faces of his soldiers. His notes, scrawled hastily the previous evening, lay on his desk, a nascent agenda for change. He knew he couldn't transform the army overnight, let alone the kingdom, but he could make a start. He would begin with two immediate, pressing issues: the soldiers' boots and the glaring deficiency in machine guns.
He instructed Colonel Mišić to arrange a meeting for mid-morning. He specifically requested the presence of General Radomir Putnik, Chief of the General Staff; Lazar Paču, the Minister of Finance; and the Minister of War, General Milovan Stefanović. Alex's historical knowledge didn't readily supply details on Stefanović, meaning he was likely a less historically prominent figure, or Petar's inherited memories of him were less distinct. This suggested he might be more of a political appointee than a military titan like Putnik, potentially making him a different kind of obstacle or ally.
The chosen meeting room was one of the smaller working offices in the Stari Dvor. It was less formal than the salons used for audiences, signifying that this was intended as a practical decision-making session. Peter arrived first, reviewing his notes one last time and mentally preparing his arguments. He knew Paču would raise financial objections and needed to be ready.
The three men arrived together. General Putnik, stern and professional as ever; Minister Paču, his expression already one of fiscal caution; and General Stefanović, the Minister of War. Stefanović was a man in his late fifties, with a more florid complexion than Putnik and a chest adorned with many medals from past, minor conflicts and long service. He carried himself with an air of self-importance that Petar found immediately wary of.
"Gentlemen, thank you for convening at short notice," Petar began once they were seated. He decided to address the Minister of War first. "General Stefanović, my visit to the 7th Regiment yesterday was… illuminating. I found the spirit of the men commendable, but I also observed several areas of serious concern regarding their equipment."
General Stefanović puffed up slightly. "Your Majesty, the army does its utmost with the resources provided. Our soldiers are hardy and accustomed to making do."
"Hardiness should not be an excuse for inadequacy, Minister," Petar countered, his tone polite but firm. "I am particularly concerned about the state of the soldiers' boots. I saw many excessively worn, poorly repaired, or made of inferior material. A soldier cannot march or fight effectively if his feet are failing him. This is a fundamental issue of welfare and combat readiness."
"Boot procurement is an ongoing process, Your Majesty," Stefanović replied, a hint of defensiveness creeping in. "We have established suppliers. Contracts are in place."
"Then the suppliers are inadequate, or the contracts are flawed, or our inspection standards are too lax," Petar stated bluntly. "I want an immediate review of the entire boot procurement process, from tender to delivery and inspection. I want to know why our soldiers are not consistently receiving footwear of durable quality. And I want options for improving this situation rapidly – even if it means finding new suppliers or exploring possibilities for enhanced domestic production, perhaps with stricter quality control overseen directly by the army." Alex's mind recalled manufacturing processes and quality checks; such things weren't arcane knowledge.
General Stefanović exchanged a quick, uneasy glance with Paču. "New suppliers, Your Majesty… or domestic production… these things have significant cost implications."
"Indeed, they do, Minister Paču," Petar said, turning to the Finance Minister. "And we will discuss costs. However, the cost of an army that cannot march when needed or suffer excessive casualties due to preventable equipment failures is far greater. This is not an area for false economy."
Paču stroked his beard. "Your Majesty, the budget for the Ministry of War is already stretched. Any new expenditure must be offset by savings elsewhere or new revenue, which, as we discussed, is not easily found."
"We will find it," Petar said with a conviction he hoped was more convincing than he felt internally. "Perhaps a reallocation from less critical areas within the current military budget, General Stefanović? Or perhaps, Minister Paču, some of the efficiencies in tax collection or management of state monopolies we discussed could yield the necessary funds more quickly than anticipated?" He was pushing them, testing their responses.
Before they could formulate a detailed objection, Petar moved to his second, more significant point. "Beyond basic equipment like boots, there is a more pressing tactical deficiency. General Putnik, you and I briefly discussed machine guns. My observations yesterday, and my broader understanding of modern warfare, convince me that Serbia is critically underequipped with these weapons."
General Putnik nodded gravely. "I concur, Your Majesty. Machine guns are a force multiplier. Their defensive power is immense, and they offer significant offensive support capabilities if properly integrated."
"Precisely," Petar said. "Yet, we have a 'limited number,' as you put it. This is unacceptable. I want a plan, General Putnik, to acquire many modern machine guns – Maxims, or other comparable models, if more advantageous. And not just acquisition, but a comprehensive program for training specialized crews, developing tactical doctrine for their employment at company and battalion levels, and ensuring adequate ammunition supply chains."
General Stefanović looked aghast. "Machine guns, Your Majesty? In significant numbers? The cost would be astronomical! Each gun is worth a king's ransom, and their ammunition expenditure, as General Putnik noted, is prodigious."
"And their battlefield impact is equally prodigious, Minister," Petar retorted. "I am aware of the cost. But what is the cost of Serbian lives lost because we failed to provide them with the best available weaponry? What is the cost of a battle lost, a border breached, because our firepower was insufficient?" He turned to Paču. "Minister Paču, this is a strategic imperative. We must find the funds. Consider it an investment in the very survival and future of Serbia."
Paču's expression was grim. "Your Majesty, I understand your desire to strengthen our army. It is a desire I share. But wishes do not fill the treasury. Acquiring hundreds of machine guns and the necessary ammunition and training infrastructure would require a sum that could potentially destabilize our national finances, unless undertaken over many years."
"We may not have many years, Minister," Petar said, his voice dropping slightly, carrying a weight that made the room feel colder. He quickly recovered a more pragmatic tone. "I am not demanding it all be done tomorrow. But I want a serious, funded plan initiated now. Perhaps we can phase the acquisitions. Perhaps we can negotiate favorable terms, or even explore options for licensed domestic production of certain components in the future, if our industrial base can be developed." He looked directly at Putnik. "General, provide me with a staged proposal: minimum immediate requirements, and a three-year plan for building up to a truly effective machine gun contingent. Detail the types, numbers, training needs, and logistical support."
To Stefanović, he said, "Minister, your department will support General Putnik in this fully. I expect no bureaucratic impediments." To Paču: "Minister, I expect you to work with General Putnik and Minister Stefanović to identify how this can be funded. If existing budgets must be scoured, if non-essential expenditures across all ministries must be trimmed, so be it. Let us explore if we need to consider raising specific-purpose bonds, guaranteed by the state. Be creative, be resourceful. But tell me how it can be done, not why it cannot."
There was a heavy silence in the room. Petar had laid down a direct challenge, a set of directives that brooked little argument. He was no longer the passive young king they might have been accustomed to.
General Putnik was the first to speak. "Your Majesty, the General Staff will prepare the requested machine gun acquisition and integration proposal. It is a necessary step, and your backing will be crucial." There was a hint of approval, perhaps even relief, in the old soldier's voice.
General Stefanović, looking somewhat deflated, mumbled, "The Ministry of War will cooperate, Your Majesty."
Paču, however, remained the picture of fiscal rectitude. "I will examine the financial implications, Your Majesty. I must reiterate, however, that substantial new expenditures without identified revenue streams are a grave concern."
"Understood, Minister Paču," Petar said. "Your caution is valuable. But so is decisive action when the kingdom's security is at stake. I expect all three of you to work together on these matters and report to me within two weeks with initial findings and proposals. Two weeks for the boot situation, one month for the preliminary machine gun plan and funding options."
He had set timelines and made his will clear. The engineer in him, Alex Volkov, appreciated clear objectives and deadlines. The nascent emperor in him understood the necessity of imposing his will to achieve his goals.
After the ministers departed, Petar felt a mixture of exhilaration and trepidation. He had thrown down the gauntlet and pushed hard. Now came the difficult part: ensuring his directives were actually carried out, not just paid lip service or quietly sabotaged by bureaucratic inertia or vested interests.
He knew he needed more than just formal authority. He needed loyal, capable individuals who shared his vision–or could be persuaded to execute it effectively. His brief interactions already gave him a sense of the men around him. Putnik seemed like a professional who would respond to a clear strategic direction. Paču was a formidable guardian of the treasury, a necessary check, but one who might need to be shown how strategic investment could lead to greater long-term security and prosperity. Stefanović… Stefanović seemed like a man who would follow the path of least resistance and most significant personal benefit, someone to be managed carefully or eventually replaced.
The issues of boots and machine guns were just the beginning. They were tangible, immediate problems. But they were also symbols of a larger transformation he envisioned—a Serbia that was stronger, more modern, more self-reliant, capable of surviving, thriving, and expanding its influence.
He spent the rest of the day reviewing other reports, considering other areas that needed his attention—education, agriculture, the nascent industry he had asked Pašić about. The Roman Empire wasn't built in a day, and neither would his. But the first stones were being laid, the first directives issued. The slow, arduous process of forging an empire had truly begun, not just in his mind but in the halls of Serbian power.