Chapter 539: Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori
De Gaulle’s loyalists within the 4th Republic’s army stormed the rebuilt palace of Versailles under cover of early morning fog.
What remained of the old palace, reconstructed from war-torn ruins during the fragile peace, was still a symbol. Not of monarchy, but of French authority. And now, it was being seized.
To de Gaulle’s surprise, Pétain’s own personal guard offered no resistance. They stood aside silently as the rebels entered. Whether out of fear, disillusionment, or tacit approval, they yielded.
The marble corridors echoed with boots and whispered tension until they reached the President’s office. De Gaulle raised a fist, then lowered it.
His men burst in.
He stepped forward into the high-ceilinged chamber, where the tall-backed leather chair behind the desk faced the wide windows overlooking the gardens.
A cold grin touched de Gaulle’s face."You may have outmaneuvered me in Paris all those years ago. I underestimated how many bodies you were willing to stack just to hold the city. But it ends here, Marshal. You’re under arrest for treason against the Republic and the people of France."
Silence.
De Gaulle gave a nod. Two soldiers advanced, rounding the desk and froze.
It was not Pétain who sat slumped in the chair, but Maxime Weygand; head lolled to one side, eyes open and lifeless. A clean hole was punched through his temple. Blood had congealed against the high leather headrest.
De Gaulle’s blood ran cold.
He spun toward his men, barking: "Seal the palace. Find that bastard! He’s gone to ground! He knew!"