Date: April 8th, 1905 – Belgrade, Kingdom of Serbia
The first week of April passed with a deceptive quiet in the Royal Palace. Petar immersed himself in the daily flow of state papers, a routine he was beginning to master. However, his mind often drifted to the impending deadline for General Putnik's machine gun proposal. He knew this would be a far more significant battle than the one he'd fought over army footwear. Boots were a necessity and relatively minor expense; machine guns represented a quantum leap in military capability and a massive financial commitment for a kingdom of Serbia's modest means.
He had another brief, discreet conversation with Colonel Mišić during this period. "Colonel," Petar had said, during a moment alone after reviewing some military dispatches, "regarding that officer you mentioned… Major Dimitrijević. What else can you tell me about his duties within the General Staff? His reputation for… intensity. Does it manifest as insubordination, or merely zealousness?"
Mišić chose his words carefully. "He is currently involved in contingency planning, Your Majesty, particularly concerning our southern borders and the situation in Macedonia. His zeal is for Serbia, undoubtedly. He is respected for his sharp mind, even by those who find his temperament… challenging. He is not overtly insubordinate but chafes at what he perceives as unnecessary caution or slowness from superiors."
Petar filed this away—a man involved in planning for Macedonia, a hotbed of nationalist aspirations and conflict. A man is impatient with caution. Dangerous, indeed, but potentially useful if his energies could be harnessed to Petar's own, far grander, ambitions. For now, though, direct contact was too risky. He needed to establish his authority more firmly before attempting to manage such a volatile element.
April 8th arrived, a cool spring morning. Petar had steeled himself for the coming confrontation. He knew Minister Paču would be the primary obstacle, and Paču's arguments about fiscal prudence were not without merit. But Alex Volkov's knowledge of the brutal realities of early 20th-century warfare, particularly the looming specter of the Great War, lent Petar a conviction that transcended ordinary financial concerns. Machine guns were not a luxury but a fundamental requirement for survival and any hope of projecting power.
General Radomir Putnik, Chief of the General Staff, arrived first for the scheduled meeting, his usual portfolio under his arm. He was followed closely by General Milovan Stefanović, the Minister of War, who still looked somewhat chastened from their previous encounter over the boot report. Finally, Lazar Paču, the Minister of Finance, entered, his expression as grim and resolute as a banker about to foreclose on a beloved family farm.
"Gentlemen," Petar began once they were seated in his working office. "General Putnik, I trust you have the proposal regarding the army's machine gun contingent, as requested."
"I do, Your Majesty," Putnik said, his voice resonant. He opened his portfolio and laid out a series of neatly typed documents. "The General Staff has conducted a thorough analysis of our requirements, current global availability, and a proposed phased implementation plan."
For the next hour, Putnik methodically detailed the proposal. He recommended the adoption of the Maxim gun, citing its proven reliability, though he also noted the Austrian Schwarzlose as a viable, potentially more affordable alternative for some roles. The plan called for an initial acquisition of fifty Maxims in the first year, along with ammunition, spare parts, and specialized training cadres. Subsequent years would see further acquisitions, aiming for two hundred guns distributed among infantry regiments within three to four years. He outlined the formation of dedicated machine gun companies within each regiment, the development of new tactical doctrines emphasizing their use in defensive and offensive operations, and the establishment of a central school for machine gunnery.
It was a comprehensive, well-reasoned plan, reflecting Putnik's professionalism. Peter listened intently, occasionally interjecting with questions about logistical support, ammunition resupply under combat conditions, or the adaptability of the proposed doctrine to Balkan terrain—questions that drew upon Alex's broader military knowledge. Putnik answered each with precision.
Then came the final section: the cost. Putnik read out the figures, and a palpable tension filled the room. The sum for the first year alone—for just fifty guns, ammunition, and initial training infrastructure—was staggering, equivalent to a significant percentage of the entire existing military budget or a substantial portion of the whole kingdom's annual education budget. Serbia's projected cost over three to four years was astronomical.
General Stefanović visibly paled. Minister Paču's expression, if possible, grew even stonier.
Petar maintained a neutral facade, though he acknowledged the figures were daunting internally. He turned to his Minister of War. "General Stefanović, your thoughts on General Putnik's military assessment and proposal?"
Stefanović swallowed. "Militarily, Your Majesty… General Putnik's proposal is… sound. The need for enhanced firepower is undeniable. However, the financial implications…" He trailed off, looking helplessly towards Paču.
Petar's gaze shifted to the Finance Minister. "Minister Paču. Your assessment."
Paču took a deep breath. "Your Majesty, General Putnik. The proposed expenditure is… catastrophic for the current fiscal stability of the Kingdom of Serbia." His voice was firm, devoid of apology. "To fund even the first year of this proposal would require either the complete suspension of several other vital government services, a drastic and immediate increase in taxation that would cripple our populace and economy, or the seeking of massive new foreign loans on what would undoubtedly be unfavorable terms, further indebting our nation for generations."
He laid out his figures, showing the current national budget, the existing debt obligations, and the limited avenues for revenue enhancement in the short term. It was a bleak picture, a clear statement of perceived impossibility. "We simply do not have the money, Your Majesty. Not for a program of this magnitude. Perhaps a much smaller, token acquisition over many years…"
"A token acquisition will yield token results, Minister," Petar interjected, his voice sharp. "And in modern war, tokenism leads to defeat and slaughter." He rose from his chair and paced slowly before the window, gathering his thoughts. He knew this was the crux of the matter.
He turned back to face them. "Minister Paču, I appreciate your diligence in safeguarding the kingdom's treasury. Your caution is a necessary counterweight to ambition. However, there are times when the greatest fiscal irresponsibility is to fail to invest in the very means of survival. What is the value of a balanced budget if the kingdom itself is overrun or dismantled because its army lacked the tools to defend it?"
He looked at Putnik. "General, you have fought for Serbia. You know the quality of our soldiers. Is it not our duty to provide them with the means to fight effectively and minimize their sacrifices?"
"It is, Your Majesty," Putnik affirmed gravely.
"This is not merely about acquiring weapons," Petar continued, his voice resonating with a conviction that surprised even himself. "It is about a strategic shift. It is about ensuring that Serbian blood is not spilled cheaply. It is about giving us a credible deterrent and a potent offensive capability to make any potential adversary think twice." Alex's understanding of deterrence theory, of the arms races of his own time, informed this argument.
"The sums are large, yes," Petar conceded. "But I do not accept that it is impossible. You speak of suspending vital services, Minister Paču. Are all current government expenditures truly 'vital'? Are there no inefficiencies, vanity projects, or sinecures within the administration that can be trimmed or eliminated? I find that hard to believe." He had seen enough of bureaucratic states in history books to know that waste was almost always present.
"You speak of increased taxation. Perhaps not a drastic general increase, but could we consider targeted levies on luxury goods or profits from certain less-essential industries? Could we improve the collection of existing taxes further?"
"And foreign loans," Petar pressed on, before Paču could offer detailed refutations. "You assume unfavorable terms. Have we explored all potential avenues? Are there nations that might see a stronger, more independent Serbia that benefits their interests and offers more reasonable terms? This requires diplomatic effort as well as financial negotiation."
He paused, letting his words sink in. "I am not asking for miracles. I am asking for solutions. General Putnik has provided a sound military plan. It is the duty of the government – your duty, gentlemen – to find a way to implement it. What is achievable if the full program is too ambitious for the first year? Twenty-five guns with full support, instead of fifty? But it must be a substantial start, not a token gesture. And it must begin this year."
He looked directly at Paču. "Minister, I am tasking you not to tell me why it cannot be done, but by presenting me, within one month, a revised financial plan that accommodates the first phase of General Putnik's proposal – a minimum of twenty-five machine guns and associated costs. This plan must identify specific funding sources, whether through cuts, reallocations, new revenues, or a carefully considered approach to borrowing. General Stefanović, you will assist him by identifying potential savings within the War Ministry that do not compromise combat effectiveness elsewhere."
Paču looked as though he had swallowed a lemon. "Your Majesty, this is an exceedingly difficult charge."
"I am aware, Minister," Petar said, his voice unyielding. "But it is a necessary one. The security and future of Serbia depend on such difficult choices. I expect your full commitment to finding a viable path forward." He then turned to Putnik. "General, prepare to implement the first phase once funding is approved. Prioritize the establishment of the training school and the development of doctrine. Even if we acquire guns slowly, our men must be ready to use them effectively from day one."
The meeting concluded with a palpable sense of tension. Petar knew he had pushed his ministers to their limits, particularly Paču. He had, in effect, issued a royal command that overruled strong, reasoned financial objections, basing his decision on strategic foresight and a willingness to bear the risk. This was a significant step in asserting his absolute authority, not as a tyrant, but as a leader making hard choices for what he believed was the greater good.
As they departed, Petar saw the deep lines of worry on Paču's face, the reluctant professionalism in Putnik's nod, and the continued unease of Stefanović. He knew the coming month would be filled with fiscal wrangling and difficult decisions for his Finance Minister. But he had set the course. The Serbian army would begin its modernization in earnest, not just with better boots, but with the promise of genuine firepower.
Petar reflected alone in his study that the price was indeed high. But the cost of inaction, in the dangerous world that Alex Volkov knew was fast approaching, would be infinitely higher. He had forced their hand on this. Now, he had to ensure they delivered.