The Qing Dynasty is about to end

Chapter 924 Crimson Waves! Crimson Tide!
Late June 1883, Red France, Cherbourg Workers' Union Shipyard.

The summer sea breeze, carrying the dampness and rusty scent of the English Channel, swept through the shipyard in Cherbourg harbor. Towering gantry cranes cast long shadows in the setting sun, and the red-clad French workers, under the scorching sun, wove together the clanging of hammers and the roar of steam engines into a revolutionary battle song of the industrial age.

On the west side of the shipyard, inside a dry dock completely covered by heavy canvas, a long, cylindrical steel monster lies dormant.

"Comrades, this is the 'Red Tide' class submarine."

Simon Bourgeois—the engineer who participated in the design of the French submarine "Diver"—is now a core member of the Red French Military-Industrial Committee. He pointed to the streamlined steel hull.

"It has a surface displacement of 100 tons and an underwater displacement of 120 tons. It is 20 meters long and equipped with an 80-horsepower Renault gasoline engine and a 40-horsepower electric motor. Its lead-acid battery pack allows it to travel 20 nautical miles underwater. To the best of my knowledge, there is no way for humans to detect a submarine hidden underwater. If they can't even detect it, attacking it is even more impossible!"

He patted the submarine's pressure hull, the steel vibrating sound echoing in the dock.

“它还拥有2具450毫米鱼雷发射管，备弹6发——足够让几艘5000吨的商船或一条15000吨的战列舰沉入海底！”

President Blanqui of the People's Council squinted at the underwater killer that the leaders of Red France had placed their hopes on. In the past two years, with the continuous iteration of battleship technology and the inadequacy of French industrial strength, the leaders of the French People's Council had abandoned the fantasy of building battleships to fight against the German Empire, and instead concentrated their limited resources on the construction of the "Karl Mohr Line" and the "Red Submarine Project".

According to the plans of Military Commissar Dombrovsky and Foreign Commissar Mohr, as long as the "Karl Mohr Line" can be held and the Red Submarine cuts off Germany's overseas trade, Red France can hold out until the day of victory!
If submarines can also attack battleships, then the imperialist battleship race becomes a complete joke!

His fingers traced the rivets on the hull, as if touching the fangs of revolution.

"How much will it cost?" Blanqui asked. "Our Red France has limited resources!"

“3 red francs.” Bourgeois grinned. “It’s cheaper than a British torpedo boat, and it consumes very few resources, after all, it’s so small.”

Military commissar Dombrovsky crouched down to inspect the submarine's torpedo tubes.

How far can it shoot?

“1000 meters.” Bourgeois pulled a copper fuse from his pocket. “It’s a Whitehead torpedo that our British working-class brothers helped us replicate. It’s designed to hit boiler rooms—one shot can sink the capitalists’ gold transport ships into the Atlantic.”

The elderly, silver-haired Foreign Commissioner Moore stood to one side, his gaze sweeping over the busy workers in the dock. His silvery temples gleamed in the setting sun, and his eyes were as deep as the sea.

"3 red francs. Excellent! This submarine will definitely change the world!"

At this point, Military Industry Committee member Friedrich interjected, asking, "How will the problem of range be solved? I remember it only has a range of 500 nautical miles."

“Comrade Military Industry Committee Member,” Burzeva said with a smile, “we have also specially designed the ‘Red Wave’ class submarine replenishment ship and disguised commerce raiding ship to match the ‘Red Tide’ class submarines, which can also independently perform multiple tasks!”

Blanki asked, "Are there any completed 'Red Wave' class ships? Could you take us to see them?"

Leaving the dry dock, Bourgeois led the group toward Pier 3.

A dilapidated three-masted sailing ship was moored there, its hull covered with barnacles and its canvas tattered, looking just like a forgotten Norwegian timber ship.

"This is 'Red Wave No. 1'."

Blanqui, who had followed Bourgeois aboard the wrecked ship, asked with a frown.

Bourgeois lifted the dummy hatch on the deck, revealing a hidden 152mm rapid-fire cannon with a well-maintained barrel that gleamed with a blue light.

“The cost of 12 francs is less than the cost of a cruiser’s boiler!” The designer of the ‘Red Tide’ class, Laubef, opened the cover of the hollow log used as a disguise. Inside the log core, there were trigger mines. “Under the cargo hold are 300 tons of gasoline tanks and torpedo rails, which can be used to resupply submarines. It’s enough for four ‘Red Tide’ ships to cause trouble in the Mediterranean for a month.”

He kicked aside a pile of cardboard boxes filled with horse manure in the corner—inside were neatly folded Greek and Spanish flags.

"It can be disguised as a neutral merchant ship," Bourgeois said. "The British can't tell the difference at all, let alone the Germans who don't have much power at sea."

Military commissar Dombrovsky crouched down, carefully inspected the tilting mechanism of the gun mount, and then asked, "What is the speed?"

"The 'Red Wave' class had a 4500-horsepower triple-expansion steam engine and a top speed of 14 knots." Burgewa pointed to the retractable funnel. "If the steam engine wasn't in use, the funnel could be retracted, so from the outside it looked like an old-fashioned sailing ship. With Germany's naval power, it was almost impossible to catch a 'Red Wave' class ship on the vast ocean."

Blanqui suddenly laughed: "If we had 100 'Red Tide' class submarines and 25 'Red Wave' class camouflage raiders/submarine supply ships, we could certainly cut off German imperialism's maritime trade."

Moore turned to look at the sea and murmured, "I think it has an even more important function than cutting off the Germans' maritime transport!"

As dusk fell, the workers gathered on the slipway, holding torches.

Moor stood on high ground, the firelight illuminating his aged yet sharp eyes. "Comrades, workers of Red France!"

His voice pierced the sea breeze and echoed over the dock.

"Imperialists and capitalists in Europe and Asia are using warships to carve up the world—even more intense battles are bound to break out next!"

He pointed westward, as if gazing at the Americas across the ocean.

"And the workers of the Eastern Union are bleeding on the battlefield in Montana! They think they are defending 'white civilization,' but in reality—"

His voice suddenly rose.

"They were merely victims of capitalists' plunder of the West's gold, silver, and oil! They were just cannon fodder for the British Empire to maintain its hegemony, just like the French soldiers who died in Crimea. They bled to death and gained nothing!"

The workers fell silent, the firelight flickering in their eyes.

"But the enemies of American workers are not Native Americans, not freed slaves, and not Asian immigrants from the West Coast! Just as the enemies of us French 30 years ago were not Russians at all!"

Moore's voice boomed like thunder.

"Their enemies are the capitalists of London and New York! Ambitious imperialists! Just as in 1853 we faced the capitalists of London and the imperialists of Britain, Russia, and France—namely, Napoleon III!"

He clenched his fist tightly, and the eyes of the shipyard workers below blazed with fury.

"In America, the so-called 'white supremacy' is a complete lie! Because poor white people, like black slaves, are slaves to capitalists and imperialists! In Britain, the so-called hegemony of the British Empire only serves a small group of imperialists and capitalists. And wars between imperialist powers will inevitably destroy themselves! Because in war there will always be losers, and new working-class nations will be born from the corpses of fallen imperialists! At that time, we will no longer be alone!"

A deafening cheer erupted inside the dock.

Late at night, in the special train compartment returning to Paris, the kerosene lamp illuminated four solemn faces.

Moore took a secret report from the suitcase.

"A telegram from an American comrade."

He unfolded the paper, his voice low.

"The offensive of the Eastern Federation has stalled. Their armored corps is stuck on Highway 65, and their MK.1 tanks are in extremely poor serviceability. They can still be used while marching by road, but once they have to carry out long-term field marches, the number of tanks available for combat will drop sharply. Meanwhile, the supply lines of the American armored groups are constantly being attacked by Indian cavalry. It seems that the so-called 'invincible steam tank theory' is a complete lie!"

Dombrovsky unfolded the map, his pencil scribbling heavily across the Montana wilderness.

"Their offensive on the northern front has also stalled! The British have failed to cut off the Pacific shipping lanes, and reinforcements from the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom are pouring in like a tide. The Tianwangcheng Dominion in western British Canada, which was not originally involved in the war, has also declared independence and joined the Western United States alliance. The Tianwangcheng army is now also deployed to the Montana battlefield."

Blanqui sneered: "Let 'Red Wave' deliver aid to our comrades in America! Disguise it as a merchant ship from a neutral country, cross the Atlantic to New York, and send everything that Comrades Daniel DeLeon and Eugene Debus of the American Workers' Association need!"

“Not now,” Friedrich shook his head. “What American workers need is—”

He paused for a moment, his eyes piercing.

"A true awakening."

Moore nodded slowly.

"Yes, awakening."

He looked out the window; in the pitch-black night, Cherbourg's lighthouse still shone brightly.

"Only a lost imperialist war can make American workers know who their real enemy is?"

"Only then will the magnificent American Revolution truly erupt!"

Morton paused, then said solemnly, "Our main mission is to make the German working people, who are blinded by the dream of Greater Germany, realize through long-term, resolute, and victorious resistance that their enemy is not the French workers, but the ambitious Hohenzollern emperors. This invasion of red France by imperialist Germany will give hope and a beacon of light to workers all over the world!"

(End of this chapter)