World War: Battleship Arms Dealers

"Erich," Wilhelm II said without turning around, "if those eight divisions are transferred to the Western Front, how quickly can they be deployed for combat?"

Falkenhayn quickly calculated: "Re-equipping, reorganizing, redistributing supplies, adapting to the new theater of operations... will take at least three weeks. But if we hurry, we can complete basic preparations in two weeks, first deploying to defensive operations, and then gradually launching offensive operations."

"Three weeks..." Wilhelm II murmured, "Can Verdun hold out for another three weeks?"

"Yes, but at a great cost," Falkenhayn said gravely. "If we don't receive reinforcements, we may have to halt our large-scale offensive and switch to defense. That would mean all our previous sacrifices would have been in vain."

Wilhelm II turned around, his face no longer showing hesitation. His eyes were sharp, and his jaw was clenched—an expression of having made a decision.

"Mr. Wang," he said, "please convey to President Chen Feng that Germany accepts this proposal. We will immediately begin preparations: granting official German army designations to the eight divisions of Japan, and designing special uniforms—with appropriate modifications to the German uniforms to suit the physique of Japanese soldiers. At the same time, we will begin negotiations with the Japanese government to determine compensation terms."

He walked back to the dining table and sat down again: "As for you, Mr. Wang, could you, as Lanfang's special envoy, assist us in communicating with Tokyo? President Chen Feng's influence, coupled with your negotiation skills, might make this matter go more smoothly."

"Of course, Your Majesty," Wang Wenwu nodded, "but before that, I need to report your decision to the Grand Commander. And, I must remind you—"

He paused, his tone becoming serious: "The success of this plan depends on absolute secrecy. If Britain and France find out in advance, they will launch a massive attack in international public opinion, which may even influence the attitude of neutral countries. The re-equipping, mobilization, and deployment must all be carried out under the strictest secrecy."

"Understood." Wilhelm II turned to Falkingham. "Erich, you are in charge of this personally. Activate the highest level of security procedures; all relevant documents must remain only in your safe. The explanation to the troops is... rotation and rest on the Eastern Front, requiring them to change into summer uniforms adapted to the Western European climate."

"Yes, Your Majesty." Falkenhayn stood up at attention.

"Then," Wilhelm II raised his glass again, this time to Wang Wenwu, "to our cooperation, to the hope of breaking the deadlock on the Western Front, cheers."

The wine glasses clinked together, making a crisp sound.

The luncheon continued, but the atmosphere was completely different. Waiters returned to pour wine, and officials began discussing details: how much fabric was needed for the uniforms and where to source it; the railway arrangements for troop transport; how to explain this change to the Japanese soldiers…

Wang Wenwu ate quietly, occasionally answering a few questions. He had completed the first step of his task—implanting Chen Feng's plan into the highest levels of German decision-making. Next came the more challenging part: persuading Tokyo.

As the sunlight outside the window gradually slanted westward, the candlelight in the Hall of Mirrors began to shine brighter. The luncheon at Sanssouci Palace lasted until three o'clock in the afternoon. As the waiters served coffee and dessert, an encrypted telegram was already sent from the telegraph room of Sanssouci Palace, flying across Eurasia to Dubai.

The telegram was brief: "The uniform proposal has been put forward and accepted by the Germans. Prepare to contact Tokyo. Wang."

June 16th, 8 PM Tokyo time.

Inside the Japanese-style room of the Prime Minister's official residence, Saionji Kinmochi knelt on the tatami mats, several documents spread out on the low table in front of him. Outside the paper sliding door, the stone lanterns in the courtyard had just been lit, their dim light filtering through the rice paper and casting hazy shadows inside. In the distance, the faint chirping of insects drifted in, and the summer night breeze carried the fragrance of gardenias.

It should have been a peaceful night, but Saionji's brow was furrowed.

"Your Excellency Prime Minister, urgent telegram from Berlin." The secretary pushed open the door and presented a sealed envelope with both hands.

Saionji took it and carefully tore it open with a paper cutter. Inside were two telegrams: one from the German Foreign Ministry, expressing a request to "adjust military cooperation arrangements" in diplomatic language; the other from Wang Wenwu, using a private code and containing much more straightforward information.

He first read Wang Wenwu's telegram:

"Lord Saionji: Kaiser Wilhelm II urgently wishes to transfer the Eastern Front's Sakura National Division to the Western Front, but is bound by contractual restrictions. Commander Chen has devised a plan: to reorganize your country's eight divisions into provisional German units, granting them German designations and uniforms. In this way, the soldiers' status will change to German soldiers, and the contractual terms will naturally become invalid. The German side is willing to pay compensation, and the price is negotiable. This matter needs to be decided as soon as possible. Wang Wenwu."

Saionji stared at the telegram, reading it three times. His expression shifted from initial confusion to shock, finally settling into a mixture of anger and absurdity.

"What...what kind of twisted logic is this!" he muttered, slamming the telegram on the table. "Just because you change your uniform doesn't mean you're not a soldier of the Japanese Empire? What do you take the Imperial soldiers for? A theatrical troupe?"

The secretary knelt to one side, holding her breath and not daring to make a sound.

Saionji then picked up the telegram from the German Foreign Ministry. The wording was euphemistic, but the core meaning was the same: requesting the Japanese government to agree to the "temporary transfer" of eight divisions to the command of the German Army for use in the Western Front operations, with Germany providing "appropriate compensation" and "ensuring the soldiers' treatment."

"Appropriate compensation..." Saionji sneered, "Easy for you to say."

But he knew he couldn't simply refuse.

He stood up, walked to the window, and opened the paper door. In the courtyard, koi carp swam in the pond under the lamplight, creating delicate ripples. The Tokyo summer night was hot and humid, but a chill ran through him.

Only he himself knows the current situation in Japan.

When the war broke out, Japan chose to send eight divisions to the Eastern Front under the guise of "labor export." Ostensibly, this was to cooperate with the German army, but in reality, Germany provided the funding and Japan provided the troops, with both sides getting what they wanted.

Germany paid a considerable sum: £20 per soldier per month, and with eight divisions totaling 200,000 men, that amounted to four million pounds per month. This money supported one-third of Japan's military expenditure and also provided income for a large number of rural youths, alleviating domestic employment pressure.

But the problem also followed.

First, relations with the Allied Powers deteriorated. Britain and France were extremely dissatisfied with Japan's "hedging" approach and repeatedly exerted pressure through diplomatic channels. If Russia hadn't been preoccupied with its own problems on the Eastern Front, a diplomatic crisis would likely have erupted long ago.

Secondly, there was domestic political pressure. Radicals in the military believed that such "mercenary" practices damaged the dignity of the empire and demanded either fair participation in the war or complete neutrality. Conservatives, on the other hand, worried that getting too deeply involved in the European war would deplete the nation's strength.

Finally, there was the actual situation at the front. The fighting on the Eastern Front was far more brutal than anticipated. Although the Japanese soldiers were brave, traditional tactics were completely ineffective against modern artillery, machine guns, and poison gas. In the past eight months, tens of thousands of soldiers had been killed or wounded in eight divisions, and anti-war sentiment began to emerge in the country.

Now, the Germans have made this absurd request—to have Japanese soldiers wear German uniforms and fight the British and French on the Western Front.