World War: Battleship Arms Dealers

He flipped through the reports, continuing to use data to illustrate his point: "More importantly, our foreign exchange reserves are mainly supported by raw silk exports and labor fees paid by Germany. If these fees from Germany are interrupted, our foreign exchange reserves will be depleted within six months. At that point, we won't even have the foreign exchange to import oil, scrap steel, or machinery."

"We can borrow money from the United States..." Ichiro Motono said.

"The Wilson administration in the United States made it clear that it would not provide large loans to any country that might join the war." Wakatsuki shook her head. "Britain and France do have money, but would they lend to a country that might side with Germany?"

Reality is like a bucket of cold water poured over everyone's head.

Saionji finally spoke, her voice slow and heavy: "So, what if Germany is willing to raise the price? What if they pay additional compensation, for example... a one-time payment of eight million pounds, plus the remaining labor costs?"

"Eight million!" Kenichi Oshima's eyes widened. "They're willing to pay that much?"

"Wang Wenwu hinted that the price was negotiable," Saienji said. "Moreover, the Germans are now desperate. If Verdun doesn't break through, their entire Western Front strategy will fail. They are willing to pay a high price for troops."

Wakatsuki quickly calculated: "Eight million yen at once is equivalent to two months' worth of labor fees paid in advance. If we can negotiate that, it can alleviate this year's financial pressure. But in the long run, the key is to ensure a stable monthly income."

"But if we offend Britain and trade is disrupted, no amount of money will be enough to buy oil and steel," Navy Minister Gonnohyōe Yamamoto said coldly.

"So we need a balance." Saionji placed his hands on the table. "We need to get the money from Germany, but we can't completely offend Britain. That's why President Chen Feng proposed that 'uniform change' plan—on the surface, Japanese soldiers became German soldiers, and we 'didn't violate the contract.' The British could protest, but they had no solid evidence."

"Self-deception!" Kenichi Oshima scoffed. "The whole world will know those are Japanese soldiers! You think we can't recognize them just because they're in uniform? Do you think everyone's stupid?"

"But legally and diplomatically, we have a reason to defend ourselves," Foreign Minister Ichiro Motono said thoughtfully. "We can declare that these soldiers' actions were personal, 'voluntarily joining the German Foreign Legion,' and have nothing to do with the Japanese government. Although it's a stretch, at least we have an explanation."

"Moreover," Saionji added, "the Germans promised that these troops would only be used for operations on the Western Front, and would not participate in the invasion of the British mainland or naval operations. In this way, the provocation to Britain would be minimized."

"What's the use of a verbal promise?" Yamamoto Gonbei questioned. "Once the troops are handed over to the Germans, how they are used is no longer under our control."

Silence fell over the meeting room again. Everyone was weighing the pros and cons, calculating the risks and rewards.

Kenichi Oshima suddenly stood up and walked to the wall. There hung a map of East Asia, with the territory of Japan painted red, like a burning maple leaf.

"Gentlemen," he said without turning around, his voice low, "we are not just discussing money, nor just diplomacy. We are discussing the future of the empire, the fate of two hundred thousand young people from the Land of Cherry Blossoms."

He turned around, his eyes bloodshot: "I served in the army for thirty-seven years, from second lieutenant to general. I trained soldiers, commanded exercises, and... I fought in wars. I know what the battlefield is like—not the glorious duels of samurai stories, but mud, blood, fear, and death."

He walked back to his seat, but didn't sit down: "Now we're sending two hundred thousand young men to the Western Front, to that meat grinder of Verdun. Let them wear unfamiliar uniforms, fight for unfamiliar countries, in a war that has nothing to do with Japan. Just because the Germans are willing to pay."

His gaze swept over everyone: "I want to ask: Is money really more important than human life? More important than the dignity of an Imperial soldier?"

This question is like a knife, piercing into everyone's heart.

Saionji closed his eyes. He knew Oshima was right, but as prime minister, he couldn't just consider morality.

"Oshima-kun," he began slowly, "last year, in your graduation speech at the Army War College, you said, 'The highest honor for a soldier is to sacrifice for his country.' Now, if the sacrifice of these soldiers can bring the country much-needed funds, industrial technology, and political support from Germany, allowing Japan to become stronger and better able to protect its people in the future—is such a sacrifice worthwhile?"

Kenichi Oshima opened his mouth, but couldn't utter a word.

"We are all making difficult choices," Saionji continued, her voice tired but firm. "Japan is a resource-poor island nation, surrounded by powerful enemies on all sides. To survive and develop, we must seize every opportunity and utilize every resource. Sometimes, this means doing dishonorable things and walking on the edge of morality."

He stood up and walked to Oshima: "I assure you, if you agree to this plan, I will personally oversee it to ensure that the Germans fulfill their promises: to give soldiers the best treatment, the most adequate supplies, and the most reasonable combat missions. Moreover, all those who die in battle will be buried with the standards of Reich soldiers, and their families will receive double the compensation."

"As for international pressure," he turned to the Foreign Minister, "Mr. Motono, you need to prepare a complete statement. Emphasize that these soldiers made a 'personal choice,' emphasize that the Japanese government 'respects the autonomy of its citizens,' and stress that we 'maintain a neutral stance.' At the same time, privately convey the message to Britain through Lanfang's channels: this is merely a business transaction and does not change Japan's basic foreign policy."

"Will the British believe that?" Motono smiled wryly.

"As long as we have something to offer, they'll turn a blind eye." Saionji returned to his seat. "Now, let's vote. Those who agree to the German plan and authorize me to negotiate the specific terms with the Germans, please raise your hands."

He was the first to raise his hand.

Finance Minister Wakatsuki Reijiro hesitated for a few seconds before raising his hand as well—the financial pressure was too great.

Foreign Minister Ichiro Motono sighed and slowly raised his hand. As a diplomat, he abhorred such tactic, but as a politician, he understood its necessity.

Navy Minister Yamamoto Gonnohyōe looked at Saionji, then at the others, and finally raised his hand. The navy needed oil and technology, which Lanfang could provide.

Only Army Minister Kenichi Oshima remained.

Everyone stared at him. The old general's hands were on the table, his fingers clenched into fists, veins bulging. His face looked old and haggard under the chandelier, his eyes filled with struggle, pain, and helplessness.

Time passed second by second.

Finally, the fist slowly loosened, and the arm was raised heavily.

It passed with five votes.

Saionji closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened his eyes again, his expression had returned to its usual calm.