The Twilight of Empire: Starting from Dunkirk

Chapter 151 The Trinity, Each with Its Own Role (Happy New Year)

July 12, 1940, 14:00, Dorset, Bovington Royal Armoured Training Camp, Tactical Command Room.

The rain stopped.

But the clouds over Bovington remained low and close at hand.

The mud on the test track hadn't dried yet, and the A15 "Meteor" prototype, fresh from its 50-mile extreme off-road run, sat quietly outside the tactical command center window. It was no longer roaring, but it wasn't completely asleep either. Although the engine was off, the massive V12 liquid-cooled heart still radiated an astonishing amount of heat.

Raindrops fell on the scorching hot rear hood armor, hissing as they instantly turned into a wisp of white steam that rose into the air.

That was the smell of an industrial beast after strenuous exercise. To the untrained eye, it was nauseating; but to the soldiers standing in the tactical room, it was the finest cologne.

Arthur Sterling stood by the window, took one last look at the prototype that was still "breathing," and then turned and walked toward the huge blackboard.

The grease on his hands had been roughly wiped away, but black marks remained under his fingernails. This only made his expensive, bespoke suit seem more convincing—he was not just a financier or a playboy, but a pragmatic technologist, a general returning from the front lines.

The tactics room was filled with smoke.

Winston Churchill sat in the head seat, his grey-blue eyes gleaming behind the smoke. The Imperial Chief of the General Staff, Sir John Deal, the Director of Ordnance, and several armored major generals who had just returned from the French front sat upright.

The atmosphere wasn't exactly lively.

Lord Nuffield's departure signifies the end of an old era, but the generals present remain uncertain about how to usher in a new one.

"Gentlemen, we won a race, but that's not enough." Arthur knew he had to say something, so he picked up a piece of chalk and, without any pleasantries, went straight to the point.

"Before we discuss what Sterling Industries can offer, we must first figure out what the soldiers on the front lines actually need." Arthur drew two parallel vertical lines on the blackboard, writing "Cruiser" on each.

And "Infantry". Then, he made a huge, glaring X in the middle.

"With all due respect, the Army's current tank taxonomy is a zombie product based on the trench warfare mindset of World War I, and it is completely wrong."

A commotion broke out in the audience.

Someone couldn't help but ask, "Brigadier General Sterling, these theories are the cornerstone of the Imperial Armored Corps. Cruiser tanks are responsible for flanking and encircling, pursuing like cavalry; infantry tanks are responsible for supporting infantry in breaking through trenches. What's wrong with that?"

"The problem is that the Germans won't cooperate with our categorized troop deployment." Arthur turned around, the chalk stubs tapping loudly on the blackboard, as if striking the skulls of these old-school soldiers.

"Experience on the French battlefield taught us that Guderian's armored divisions were an organic whole. While our Matilda infantry tanks slowly attempted to break through, the German Panzer III and IV tanks had already used their mobility to flank and rear them. And when our 'King' cruiser tanks tried to charge with speed, the Germans would use anti-tank guns to blast our thinly armored tanks to shreds from one or two kilometers away."

"On the battlefield, speed is armor, and armor must serve firepower." Arthur wiped away the two lines. "If a tank is fast but can't withstand artillery fire, it's a coffin with tracks; if a tank can withstand artillery fire but can't move, it's an expensive steel bunker, useless except for being outmaneuvered by the enemy to cut off supply lines."

"We need to build a new ecosystem." Arthur wrote a word on the blackboard: MBT (Main)

BattleTank—the prototype of the main battle tank.

Although he did not directly explain this future term, his subsequent description defined it.

"An ecosystem based on a perfect balance of the three pillars" (firepower, protection, and mobility).

Arthur wrote three words on the blackboard. They were the result of a sleepless night of deductions by the group of crazy engineers in Sterling Heavy Industries' R&D department.

1. Hound 2. Meteor 3. Black Prince

"This is Sterling Industries' armor blueprint for the Imperial Army over the next three years."

Arthur pointed to the first word: "Hound. This isn't just a light tank; it's the eyes of the army."

"It will be based on the existing Tetrarch tank with significant modifications, but it's not designed to directly confront German tanks. Our design team is developing a completely new suspension and lightweight armor, aiming to keep the total weight under 8 tons."

"Why so light?" Arthur asked General Dill. "Because I want it to be able to fly."

"It can fly?" General Deer was stunned.

"Yes. Stirling Aviation is designing a heavy glider called the 'Hamilcar.' The 'Hound' will fly directly into the glider's belly and be airdropped behind enemy lines with the paratroopers."

Arthur's eyes became extremely deep here, and everyone, including Churchill, was shocked by Arthur's crazy idea.

Deep in Arthur's mind, a scene flashed through his mind: decades later, at the height of the Red Empire's power—a massive Il-76 transport plane opened its tail door, and several BMD paratrooper vehicles crashed into the ground amidst the roar of multiple parachutes and retro-rockets, while the frenzied Soviet crew members sat directly inside the vehicles, ready to fight the moment they landed.

That is the ultimate form of "human and vehicle integrated air landing".

Of course, Arthur was well aware that materials science and rocket technology in 1940 couldn't support such madness. Without retro-propulsion rockets and heavy parachute systems, stuffing people into tanks and throwing them out would only result in a pile of canned meat sauce, but that didn't stop him from planting the seeds of "aerial mechanization" first.

"This is called vertical encirclement." Arthur continued, looking at the generals' shocked faces. "I know it sounds like science fiction. Current technology may not be able to directly parachute tanks, so gliders are our current compromise."

He emphasized the name "Hound" with chalk: "But even disregarding its airdrop capability, this 8..."

This small machine, weighing several tons and equipped with a 40mm cannon, still possesses enormous potential and value.

"Even if it can't fly for now, it's still the army's fastest scout. We can use it on the ground first, letting it burrow into the woods and flank the enemy. When the Hamilka glider is officially commissioned, it will be a tiger with wings, able to point its cannon directly at the back of the enemy's head."

"At that time, our airborne combat capabilities will be a generation ahead of the German army."

Then, Arthur moved his chalk to the center and drew a heavy circle.

A15 "Meteor" / Sterling Heavy Industries' official designation: general-purpose medium tank.

"This is today's focus. It's the final form of that A15 prototype outside the window—I've named it 'Meteor.'" Arthur's voice held a hint of sarcasm. "Forget about the Ordnance Department's original name, Cromwell. That was a mediocre design filled with rivets and vertical armor. What we're building is a revolutionary product."

"I want to abolish the distinction between cruiser tanks and infantry tanks. The army will only need this one type of tank, or platform, as its backbone."

Arthur snapped his fingers.

Several engineers behind him quickly stepped forward and distributed a stack of test data sheets, still smelling of ink, to each of the generals. Although he had given Churchill a rough description of the data verbally during the mud test that morning, words were not enough; only black and white data printed on paper could convince these generals.

Arthur pointed at the blueprint, his voice cold and hard.

"Gentlemen, look closely. This is not just a blueprint; it is a verdict on the mistakes of the British armored forces over the past two decades."

The generals looked at the data on the blueprints and exchanged bewildered glances, their eyes filled with shock.

Heart of the machine: Rolls-Royce Meteor V12 engine, 600 horsepower. In contrast, the German Panzer III and IV tanks were still struggling with 300-horsepower Maybach engines.

Suspension system: Stirling improved Christie suspension, 5 pairs of large-diameter road wheels, and the chassis was widened by 15%. As a result, the problems of excessively high center of gravity and insufficient track contact area in the historical design were completely solved.

Armor: This is the biggest difference. It abandons the traditional British vertically riveted armor, adopting a fully welded process and a 60-degree steeply angled upper glacis. The physical thickness is 76mm (3 inches), but the effective protection exceeds 100mm.

武器：首批装备57mm（6磅）L/50火炮。但炮塔座圈直径被暴力扩充到了62英寸，这意味着它未来可以轻鬆换装75mm甚至17磅炮，而不需要像以前那样因为炮塔太小而重新设计车体。

"This is the Meteor." Arthur slapped the blackboard. "It has the mobility of a cruiser tank, exceeding 35 miles per hour, enough to leave German armored divisions in its dust; at the same time, it has the protection of an infantry tank, its frontal armor sufficient to render German 37mm 'door-knocking' guns and 50mm anti-tank guns useless scrap metal at normal engagement ranges."

"This is neither a cruiser tank nor an infantry tank."

"This is called a medium general-purpose tank, or a main battle tank."

"You think there's something wrong with the data?" Arthur put down the chalk, wiped his hands, and smiled. He could see the doubt in everyone's eyes.

"So before we discuss that future Black Prince," he said, "we can add a section. Let's first examine Cromwell's teeth." He gestured towards the window. "Now that the rain has stopped, Prime Minister, why don't we go check out the firing range?"

14:30, Bovington 2 Heavy Weapons Range.

The air is very humid.

Six hundred meters ahead of the A15 prototype, there stood a tilted steel plate, which Arthur had brought back from France.

A piece of surface-hardened armor steel, 50 millimeters thick, cut from a destroyed German Panzer IV tank, is placed at a 30-degree angle at a distance of 600 meters.

This represents the current frontal protection limit of the German army's main tanks.

"This is the standard 2-pounder (40mm) gun currently in service with the Army," said the brigadier general of the Ordnance Department, pointing to a Valentine tank next to him.

Bang! A crisp cannon shot rang out.

The 40mm armor-piercing round struck the steel plate, sending sparks flying.

But through the telescope, everyone could clearly see that the shell was mercilessly deflected, leaving only a deep dent in the steel plate.

Although it reached the defensive limit of that armor plate, it was not penetrated.

"Not penetrated." The target reporter's voice was tinged with embarrassment. "At this distance, the power of a 2-pounder seems insufficient for the Germans."

"Change the meteor." Arthur coldly ordered.

The A15 tank's turret slowly rotated. The disproportionately long 57mm L/50 gun locked onto its target. The loader shoved in a shell with a black-painted projectile.

This is no ordinary capped armor-piercing projectile. It is a masterpiece from Sterling Heavy Industries Materials Laboratory—a tungsten alloy hard-core armor-piercing projectile (APCR), codenamed "Tungsten Needle".

boom!!!

The muzzle blast whipped up the water from the ground, creating a white shockwave. The cannon's roar was far more ferocious than that of a 2-pounder, and the muzzle velocity of the shell reached an astonishing 853 meters per second.

600 meters away.

There were no sparks flying. The 50mm thick German surface-hardened armor was instantly pierced. The immense kinetic energy allowed the projectile to retain terrifying lethality even after penetrating the steel plate. A cast iron block simulating an engine block placed behind the steel plate was instantly pulverized. If it were a real Panzer IV tank, the interior of the hull would have been turned into a meat grinder by the thousands of red-hot fragments generated by this shell.

"This is the 6-pounder cannon." Arthur put down his binoculars. "At 1000 meters, it can easily penetrate any active German tank."

"And—what about further away?" Churchill asked. He pointed to the black target standing 1000 meters away at the end of the range. It was a specially made test target.

100 mm (4 inches) homogeneous steel armor, mounted vertically.

This was specially designed by Arthur to simulate the legendary "Tiger." Currently, no British tank gun can penetrate it at this distance.

"Load Mk.3 armor-piercing discarding sabot rounds," Arthur ordered into the walkie-talkie.

This is cheating, or rather, it's cutting-edge technology ahead of its time.

Although the actual APDS (armor-piercing discarding sabot) projectile did not mature until 1944, Arthur used Sterling's precision machining capabilities to produce a batch of laboratory versions ahead of schedule.

"Target: 1000 meters. Black target."

The A15's chassis jolted violently from the recoil. This time, the muzzle flash was longer, a sign of the high-pressure propellant exploding. The projectile core tore through the air at a speed exceeding 1100 meters per second.

One second of flight time.

Clang! A dull metallic clang echoed across the firing range.

There was no explosion, no fire. But everyone who looked through their binoculars saw the chilling sight: a coin-sized, translucent hole had appeared in the center of the 100mm steel plate that symbolized "indestructibility."

Although it was only barely penetrated, and although the edge of the bullet hole was covered with molten iron from high temperature, light still managed to pass through.

This means that the tungsten core from hell has already penetrated the stomach of the hypothetical enemy.

"My God—" General Deer put down his binoculars, his lips trembling, "It pierced through a 4-inch steel plate?"

1000 meters away?

"Barely penetrating," Arthur corrected, his tone serious. "In actual combat, considering ricochets and angles, this might not guarantee destruction of such thick armor. But this is only a 6-pounder." He turned to look at the generals who were speechless with shock.

"Imagine if we brought up the 17-pounder (76mm) cannon from the 'Black Prince'. Using the same tungsten-core projectile, the kinetic energy would double."

"At that time, the armor that the Germans were so proud of was like a damp piece of cardboard in front of us."

Everyone returned to the smoke-filled tactics room. At this moment, no one questioned the authenticity of the data on the blackboard anymore.

The steel plate that was pierced 1000 meters away is the most powerful pass.

Arthur picked up the chalk again and pointed to the bottom word.

"Black Prince - Heavy Breakthrough Tank."

"This isn't for this year's war, it's for next year's war." Arthur couldn't compare himself to these people, because the monster at this moment only existed on the Germans' drawing boards, or in the little mustache's ambitions.

He simply pointed to the steel plate that had been pierced.

"Gentlemen, the Germans have already blown up our Matilda with their 88mm anti-aircraft guns firing horizontally. So, according to the objective logic of arms development, sooner or later they will put tracks on this gun and cover it with ridiculously thick armor."

"Let's call that future monster—'Tiger' for now."

Arthur's voice echoed in the conference room: "To combat that tiger that is theoretically inevitable," we need the Black Prince.

"Weighing over 45 tons. The 600 horsepower provided by the Meteor Engine is precisely to drive this monster."

"I plan to equip it with 6 inches (152 mm) of frontal armor, which will surpass all current mobile fortresses in the world. And its main gun will be our trump card—a 17-pound (76.2 mm) high-velocity anti-tank gun."

Arthur paused here, a cold smile playing on his lips: "If the 17-pounder isn't enough in the future—"

"I simply flattened a 3.7-inch (94mm) heavy anti-aircraft gun and crammed it in."

He looked at the pale-faced generals and said, word by word, "I want the Germans to understand that when it comes to caliber and armor thickness, the British Empire may be late, but it will never be absent."

The conference room was silent, with only the hum of the exhaust fan breaking the silence.

The generals were digesting this massive and radical plan. It wasn't just about a few new weapons; it was a complete overhaul of the British Army's armored tactics. From reconnaissance and main assault to heavy breakthrough and fire support, it was a whole ecosystem.

"This will require massive resources," General Dill broke the silence, looking at the enormous map with a mixture of excitement and worry. "Aluminum alloys, rubber, high-grade steel, precision optical instruments—and we also have to sustain the Royal Navy and Air Force. The Treasury will go crazy."

"This is the power of industrialization—standardization."

"These three types of tanks, and the self-propelled artillery derived from them, will share 70% of their parts," Arthur said with some pride. "They use the same Meteor engine, the same gearbox logic, the same road wheels, the same track shoes, and even the bolts and periscopes are interchangeable."

"This means that the Black Prince tanks we couldn't repair in Libya," can have their engines removed and used in the Meteor. Logistics officers won't need to prepare dozens of different screws for every tank type. "Stirling Heavy Industries has a modular production line ready. We're no longer building tanks like clockwork; we're building tanks like sausages."

"After the German armored elites have run out of ammunition and risked their lives to finally destroy one of our Meteors—" Arthur smiled, "they will find in despair that there are ten more, a hundred more behind them."

"This will not be a duel between knights. This is the flood of industry."

These words instantly pierced the hearts of every general present. All the previous concerns about resource consumption, logistical pressure, and the cost of aluminum alloy were utterly shattered by the scene Arthur described.

That's a man's romance.

Thunderous applause erupted in the tactics room, and everyone stood up as soldiers paid tribute to the truth that "quantity is justice."

Even William Morris, who had been silent and looked ashamed after losing the bid, slowly stood up.

He looked at Arthur on the stage, his eyes no longer filled with the arrogance and hostility of the morning, but with a pure awe and appreciation between peers, or rather, the kind of pure respect and admiration that an old-era car tycoon had for a new-era industrial giant.

He raised his hand and joined the thunderous applause. Because he understood. It was a language only those familiar with assembly lines could comprehend.

Churchill, sitting at the very front, remained silent. His gaze was fixed on the words "Black Prince" on the blackboard.

In that instant, it was as if the walls and the rain disappeared from the old man's eyes.

He saw the deserts of North Africa, the plains of France, and two torrents of steel colliding and tearing at each other.

He saw British tanks destroyed and burning by the 88mm gun, and he also saw the "Black Prince" equipped with a 17-pounder gun crushing the wreckage of Germans in the smoke and dust.

After a long while, the Prime Minister slowly stood up.

He straightened his heavy navy coat, a gesture imbued with a sense of historical solemnity.

"Arthur," Churchill spoke, his voice thoughtful, "you remind me of someone."

Arthur raised an eyebrow slightly: "Who?"

"Lord John Fisher (Admiral Jackie Fisher)"

Churchill mentioned the legendary First Sea Lord who had spearheaded the "dreadnought revolution" in the navy many years ago. That crazy, obsessive old man who single-handedly created the modern Royal Navy.

"Forty years ago, when I was the First Lord of the Admiralty, that crazy old man stood in front of the blackboard like this. He told me that the old-fashioned naval tactics were dead, and that we should build a warship full of heavy guns, called the Dreadnought."

"He's not just building ships, he's changing how the navy fights."

Churchill rose from his seat, his leather shoes clattering heavily on the wooden floor. He walked up to Arthur, but instead of immediately shaking hands, he scrutinized the young man with his sharp eyes.

There was admiration and apprehension in his eyes, but more than anything, there was a determination to entrust a heavy responsibility to someone else.

"The army today is like an old battleship—bloated, sluggish, and self-important." Churchill stretched out his large hand, slightly roughened by years of holding a pen and smoking. "Get to work, Brigadier General Sterling. Build these cages for the army."

"We need to prepare our hunting rifles before the Germans' 'zoo' opens."

Arthur looked at the hand. He knew this was more than just a handshake; it was a mandate worth hundreds of millions of pounds, a contract that would decide the lives of countless people in this world war.

He reached out and firmly grasped the Prime Minister's hand.

The palms are dry, warm, and full of strength.

"As you wish, Prime Minister," Arthur replied, offering no further promises, only the will to carry them out.

Outside the window, a faint ray of sunlight pierced through the thick clouds of Dorset, casting its light onto the muddy test track. The lone A15 "Meteor" prototype was bathed in sunlight, the water droplets on its armor plating reflecting a cold glint.

The engineers are restarting it.

With the screeching of the electric starter, the V12 engine from the fighter jet was reawakened.

Boom—Boom—The heat waves from the exhaust pipes dispersed the water on the ground.

The even, powerful roar, accompanied by a high-frequency whistling sound, echoed across the open plains.

To Lord Nuffield, it was the death knell of an old era. But to Arthur and Churchill, it was the first cry of the future Allied armored onslaught.

Arthur walked to the window, letting the light shine through the tank and gaze towards the distant east.

That's the direction of the English Channel, and also the direction of the European continent.

He knew that even with the Meteor Engine and the 17-pound cannon, the battles to come would still be unimaginably brutal.

The German industrial machine is running at full speed; Tiger, Panther, and even more terrifying monsters will appear sooner or later. The North African desert, the plains of Kursk, the Normandy scrubland, and the forests of the Ardennes will all become steel meat grinders.

But at least this time, when the soldiers of the British Empire had to confront those Nazi monsters.

What they hold in their hands is no longer a toothpick that can't even pierce the opponent's skin.

It is not a heavy iron hammer, but a real hammer that can break their bones and smash their spines.

happy new year~

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