World War: Battleship Arms Dealers

Matsumoto was a short, stocky young man from a farming family in Hokkaido, naturally adapted to the cold. But at this moment, his face was also red from the cold, and icicles hung from the tip of his nose.

"What is it, Private First Class Matsumoto?"

"This..." Matsumoto held up the weapon in his hand—a Type 38 rifle, but with strange strips of cloth tied to the stock. "The Germans gave it to me; they said it was antifreeze tarpaulin. It's to be wrapped around the bolt to prevent it from freezing."

Nakamura nodded. This was one of many small pieces of equipment provided by the Germans, along with cold-weather gloves, thick socks, and even a special "antifreeze grease" that, when applied to the moving parts of weapons, was said to keep them functioning at minus thirty degrees Celsius.

"Do as they say," Nakamura said. "The Germans have been fighting here for six months and know how to fight in winter."

"Yes." Matsumoto began carefully wrapping the bolt carrier, his movements as serious as if he were handling some precious item. "Major, I have a question."

"explain."

"Why should we use German stuff?" Matsumoto looked up, his eyes filled with pure confusion. "We have our own guns, our own equipment. And...and didn't Lanfang give us new machine guns? Why do we still need German oil?"

This is a very pointed question. Nakamura knows the answer, but he can't say the whole story.

The weapons provided by Lanfang were "contract equipment," purchased by the Japanese government from Lanfang using future employment revenue. However, these were all main combat weapons—machine guns and infantry guns. The Germans insisted on providing logistical supplies such as antifreeze tarpaulins, gloves, and socks, saying it was "to ensure combat effectiveness."

In fact, Nakamura had heard Hans mention privately that the Germans wanted to use this method to make the Japanese troops dependent on their equipment, thus making them easier to control.

"This is part of coordinated operations," Nakamura chose the official line. "It's necessary for us to cooperate with the German forces and use compatible equipment and supplies."

Matsumoto nodded as if he understood, and continued with his work.

The group continued forward. Time stretched out in the cold, each minute feeling like an hour. Nakamura kept checking his pocket watch, calculating the progress and the distance.

At two in the morning, they reached the edge of the second lake area. The terrain began to change here, with the flat ice giving way to rolling hills and scattered trees.

Hans returned from the front, his face serious.

"Major Nakamura, scouts report that Russian patrol forces have been spotted three kilometers ahead." He lowered his voice. "About a company in size, with makeshift fortifications and possibly machine guns."

Nakamura's heart raced. They were finally about to engage the enemy.

"Location?" he asked.

Hans crouched down and drew a simple diagram on the snow with a twig: "They control this high ground, overlooking the Lake District passage. If we go straight through, they'll spot us and open fire."

"How about we go around it?"

"It will take at least two hours," Hans shook his head. "Moreover, the terrain on the east side is complicated, with some swampy areas that are not completely frozen, which is dangerous."

Nakamura stared at the simplified map on the ground, his mind racing. This was their first real combat mission, and it was not only crucial to the success or failure of the mission, but also to how the Japanese troops would be perceived by the Germans.

"How much time do we have?" he asked.

"We must get through before four o'clock," Hans said. "After four o'clock, when it gets light, our operation will be exposed."

Nakamura glanced at his pocket watch—2:17. One hour and forty-three minutes to go.

"We can fight our way through," he finally said.

Hans raised an eyebrow: "A frontal attack? They have the terrain advantage, and they might have heavy machine guns."

"But we have the advantage of surprise," Nakamura said, pointing to the simplified map. "The Russian army won't expect troops to appear from the lake area in this weather and at this time. If we approach quickly and attack before they can fully react..."

He didn't finish his sentence, but his meaning was clear.

Hans thought for a few seconds, then nodded: "We can try. But you must be quick, very quick. Once a stalemate is reached, the surrounding Russian troops will come to our aid."

"Understood." Nakamura turned to Kobayashi, who was waiting for orders, and said, "Order all company commanders to assemble immediately and deploy combat missions."

The order spread like an electric current throughout the battalion. The exhausted soldiers instantly snapped back to reality, fear was replaced by tension, and the cold no longer seemed so unbearable.

The battle is about to begin.

The officers of the Third Battalion squatted in a circle on the snow, with a more detailed map spread out in the middle—a map recently drawn by German scouts.

"The Russian positions are here." Nakamura pointed to a point on the map with his gloved fingers. "It's on the top of a hill, with a wide field of vision. They've dug trenches, but according to reconnaissance, the fortifications aren't deep; they're probably temporary."

Lieutenant Yoshida, the company commander of the first squadron, frowned: "If we launch a frontal attack, we'll have to cross at least 500 meters of open ground, all covered in snow, with no cover."

"So we can't launch a frontal assault," Nakamura said. "My plan is for the second squadron to launch a feint attack from the front to draw fire. The first and third squadrons will flank from the flanks, especially the west side, where there are some rocks and bushes that can provide some cover."

He looked up at the officers: "The key is speed. Once the feint begins, the flanking force must get within grenade-throwing range within five minutes. Then launch a simultaneous assault and break through in one fell swoop."

"What about fire support?" Captain Sato, the company commander of the third squadron, asked. "If we had mortars..."

"We don't have mortars," Nakamura interrupted him. "But we have these."

He beckoned to Warrant Officer Yamada, the machine gun squad leader, to come over. Yamada was carrying that rather strange "Type 11 light machine gun"—a Type 11 with a blunt handle.

"Yamada, your machine gun squad is in charge of suppression," Nakamura said. "Once the feint begins, fire at the Russian positions with maximum firepower to suppress their machine gunners and riflemen."

Yamada salutes: "Understood. But Major..."

"What?"

"We've only trained with this gun for a month," Yamada admitted. "It's fine for target practice on the ship, but in actual combat... and with the weather so cold, I don't know if it will malfunction."

Nakamura paused for a moment. This was also his concern. The weapons provided by Lanfang seemed to have good performance parameters, but actual combat testing was another matter. Moreover, the Lanfang instructors had repeatedly emphasized during training on the ship: "This machine gun has a high rate of fire, but the barrel is prone to overheating. Do not fire more than three magazines continuously; allow it to cool down."

Three magazines, that's ninety bullets. How long can ninety bullets last in intense combat?

"Do your best," Nakamura finally said. "This is our first battle, and the first time these weapons have seen combat. Collect data, record problems, and report back after the battle."

"Yes!" Yamada saluted again.

The deployment was completed quickly. The soldiers checked their equipment, oiled their rifles, and took grenades out of their backpacks, hanging them in easily accessible places. Some began writing their wills—a tradition in the Japanese army—but most simply sat silently, waiting.