World War: Battleship Arms Dealers

The adjutant approached him: "Division Commander, do you think... we can really get the soldiers to accept this?"

Shiba Goro looked up at the starry sky and remained silent for a long time.

During his eight months on the Eastern Front, he witnessed far too much death and sacrifice. He saw Japanese soldiers lose their fingers to frostbite in the Russian cold, saw them fall in rows under German artillery fire, and saw wounded soldiers die painfully in field hospitals due to lack of medicine.

Now, he's going to take these people to an even more brutal place.

"What else can we do if we don't accept it?" he finally murmured to himself. "That's how war is. Individual will is insignificant; we can only be swept along by the tide of history. All we can do is try to make the process... less painful."

He turned and walked toward his tent, his dark gray German uniform almost blending into the darkness of the night.

In the distance, the changing guards called out commands in German—a new rule that all commands must be in German. The harsh pronunciation echoed awkwardly and unfamiliarly in the night air.

The change has already happened. Whether you accept it or not, there's no going back.

A week later, the train will carry these 200,000 people westward, towards Verdun, towards the battlefield that has claimed hundreds of thousands of lives.

As for what they might bring back, no one knows.

June 26, Strategic Office, Dubai Presidential Palace.

Chen Feng stood before a huge world map, a red marker in his hand. Several new marking lines had just been added to the map: a blue arrow pointing from eastern Poland to northeastern France, representing the westward movement route of the Japanese forces; and a red dotted line pointing from Dubai to Wilhelmshaven, representing the delivery route for the Bismarck-class battleships.

Wang Wenwu stood behind him, holding a thick stack of reports, a summary of all the intelligence sent back from Berlin, Tokyo, and Wilhelmshaven over the past three days.

"The eight divisions of the Japanese Empire have completed their re-equipment and are expected to begin rail transport in three days," Wang Wenwu said, flipping through the report. "The German side has used all available wagons and requisitioned some civilian trains. The entire transport process will take four to five days, with resupply and rest stops in Frankfurt and Cologne along the way. They are expected to arrive at the Verdun rear assembly area around July 2nd."

Chen Feng marked the time points on the map: "The fact that the Germans are in such a hurry means that the situation in Verdun is worse than we thought."

"According to our intelligence reports, the German casualties at Verdun have exceeded 350,000, while the French casualties are about 450,000. Both sides are nearing their limits, but Germany is the first to give out," Wang Wenwu said. "Falkenhayn assured Wilhelm II that if these 200,000 fresh troops were to join, he could launch a decisive offensive in mid-July and break through the French second line of defense."

"Two hundred thousand..." Chen Feng drew a circle at the Verdun location. "Could that change the course of the battle?"

"It might be possible in the short term, but it's hard to say in the long term." Wang Wenwu walked to the other side of the map. "The fundamental problem on the western front is the tactical stalemate. Trench, barbed wire, machine guns, and artillery constitute a defensive system that is almost impossible to break through. Unless there are new tactics or new weapons, no matter how many more people are deployed, it will only increase the number of casualties."

Chen Feng put down his marker and walked to the window. Outside, Dubai Port was bustling with activity under the afternoon sun. The long arms of cranes rose and fell, cargo ships came and went, and further away, in the naval dock, two Bismarck-class battleships were undergoing final outfitting.

"So the timing is perfect for our tank project." He turned to Liu Yongfu. "How's it progressing on Liu Yongfu's side?"

"The chassis of the first prototype is complete, and the engine and transmission system are being installed." Wang Wenwu pulled a photo out of the folder. "This was taken yesterday."

In the photo, a strangely shaped vehicle is parked in the factory. It has a tracked chassis, a rudimentary steel body, and a turret mounting position on the top. Although it is still just an empty shell, its basic outline is already visible.

"Minister Liu said that if everything goes smoothly, the first complete vehicle can be completed within two weeks for preliminary testing. However, there are still many problems: the engine power is insufficient, the suspension system is unstable in sand tests, and the steering mechanism is difficult to operate..."

"These are all solvable problems." Chen Feng took the photos and examined them carefully. "The key is to prove the concept is feasible. As long as this vehicle can drive, move, climb hills, and overcome obstacles, we'll have something to show the Germans."

"President," Wang Wenwu hesitated for a moment, "do you really think the Germans will buy it?"

"They will," Chen Feng said confidently.

He walked to the liquor cabinet and poured two glasses of water—he had rarely drunk alcohol during the day since the war began.

"More importantly," he handed Wang Wenwu a glass, "is the current mindset of the Germans. They've invested too much in Verdun and can't stop, so they keep raising the stakes. New troops are one card, new weapons are another. When they find that the troop card isn't enough, they'll desperately look for the new weapon card."

Wang Wenwu took the water glass but didn't drink it: "But do we really want to sell to the Germans? If they achieve a breakthrough on the Western Front, the war might be prolonged, and Germany might even win. That might not be in our best interest."

"Balance," Chen Feng said, walking to the map and pointing to the English Channel. "What we want is not for Germany to win, nor for Britain to win, but a stalemate. It's for both sides to be exhausted, needing external help, and willing to pay a price for even the slightest advantage."

He turned to Wang Wenwu: "Therefore, we can sell tank technology, but not all at once. We'll give them the basic design of the Panzer I first, and once they've tasted its benefits in actual combat, we'll sell them the improved version of the Panzer II. At the same time, through our channels in London, we'll hint to the British that they also need similar countermeasures..."

"Selling on both sides?" Wang Wenwu's eyes widened.

"Why not?" Chen Feng smiled. "War is a catalyst for technology. World War I spurred the development of tanks, airplanes, poison gas, and submarines. These technologies were bound to appear sooner or later; we're just making them appear sooner. And in the process, we can obtain technology transfer fees, patent fees, production licensing fees, and most importantly—influence."

He walked to the sand table in the center of the strategy room. It was a miniature model of the entire Southeast Asia region, from the Malay Peninsula to the Philippine Islands, from Sumatra to New Guinea. On the sand table, Lanfang's territory was marked in red, while other colonies and independent nations were distinguished by different colors.

"Minister Wang, look," Chen Feng said, pointing to the sand table, "Ten years ago, this place was entirely colony of European powers. Now, Lanfang has been established, but we are still surrounded. Britain is in Malaya and Burma, France in Indochina, the Netherlands in the East Indies, the United States in the Philippines..."

His fingers traced patterns on the sand table: "If we want to survive and develop, we must find space in the cracks between the great powers. And war gave us this opportunity—while Europeans were busy killing each other, we could develop industry, build a navy, and expand trade. When they needed resources, we could provide them, but with a price. When they needed technology, we could transfer it, but at a cost."