World War: Battleship Arms Dealers

"General, the German naval task force has arrived," the lookout reported.

Li Te turned around. Three black Mercedes-Benz cars stopped at the entrance to the dock, and more than a dozen German naval officers got out and walked over. The one leading them was a rear admiral, tall and imposing, his blond hair appearing dull in the pre-dawn light, but his steps were firm and powerful.

"I am Rear Admiral Hans von Koch, head of the technical receiving group of the High Seas Fleet." The German general introduced himself in English, saluted Litte, and said, "Thank you for your country's preparations in such a short time."

Lit returned the salute and replied in fluent German, "This is our promise, General. The two battleships are ready to set sail and can be handed over at any time."

The two shook hands. Koch's hands were rough and strong, the marks of long hours at sea. Litte noticed the deep dark circles under the German general's eyes, clearly indicating he hadn't slept for many days.

"Can we board the ship for inspection?" Koch asked.

"Of course." Li Te stepped aside to indicate, "Please."

The German officers split into two groups and boarded the two warships respectively. Liddell accompanied Koch onto the Yangtze. As he stepped onto the gangway, he could feel a subtle vibration from the steel plates beneath his feet—the pulse of the boilers, the heartbeat of this 40,000-ton behemoth.

Inside the bridge, the watch officer and helmsman of Lanfang were already in position. Koch went straight to the chart table as soon as he entered, carefully examining the latest nautical charts and weather reports. He then checked the compass, rangefinder, and radio equipment—carefully examining each item, occasionally asking the Lanfang officer beside him for details.

"Power system status?" Koch asked.

"All twelve boilers are functioning normally, and the three steam turbines have completed preheating," the chief engineer replied. "The maximum output power is 150,000 horsepower, but it is recommended that it not exceed 120,000 during the handover voyage."

"Weapon system?"

"The mechanical parts of the eight 380mm main guns are normal, but the core module of the fire control system has been removed according to the agreement. The secondary guns and anti-aircraft guns are operational, and the ammunition magazines have been emptied, with only a minimum number of training rounds remaining."

Koch nodded, a satisfied look on his face. He walked to the bridge window and looked out at the gradually whitening horizon.

"General," he suddenly said in German, his voice low, "I want to ask a question... outside the agreement."

"Speaking."

"How long have these two ships served in the Lanfang Navy? Have they been battle-tested?"

Li Te was silent for two seconds. This was a sensitive issue, but Chen Feng had instructed that they could communicate frankly within reasonable limits.

"Participated in the East China Sea Naval Battle!"

Koch turned to look at him, his eyes holding something complex.

"After Jutland," Koch continued, almost to himself, "we lost three capital ships and damaged seven. Field Marshal Tirpitz kept saying we needed time to repair them, time to train them. But those bigwigs in Berlin didn't understand; they just wanted victory, an immediate, all-or-nothing victory."

Li Te listened quietly. He knew this wasn't an ordinary complaint, but a test—the Germans were testing Lan Fang's attitude, testing whether they truly understood Germany's predicament.

"So these two ships are very important to you," Zhang Yongfu finally said.

"It's so important that we're willing to pay a third of the national treasury's gold." Koch smiled bitterly. "General, do you know what this means? It means that if these two ships can't change the situation in the North Sea, if they are also sunk by Jellicoe, then Germany will really... have nothing left."

Footsteps echoed on the deck. German technical officers returned to the bridge one after another to report the inspection results to Koch.

"All is well, General. Ship condition is good and ready for takeover."

Koch took a deep breath and turned to Zhang Yongfu: "Well then, according to the agreement, the handover is now formal. Please have your crew disembark within six hours, and we will take over. We are scheduled to depart at noon. The route has been planned: out of the Persian Gulf, around the Arabian Peninsula, through the Red Sea and the Suez Canal into the Mediterranean Sea, then through the Strait of Gibraltar into the Atlantic Ocean, and finally south from the North Sea into Wilhelmshaven. The entire journey is about 6,000 nautical miles and is expected to take eighteen days."

"Eighteen days..." Li Te repeated the number, "a very tight voyage."

"There's no time," Koch shook his head. "People are dying every day at Verdun. The navy must do something. These two ships must be in the North Sea by July 20th."

Li Te didn't ask any more questions. He summoned the heads of each post and began the final handover procedures. Document signing, equipment list verification, key handover... each step had a strict process, and both officers signed to confirm.

By the time the last page of the document was signed, it was fully light. The rising sun cast its golden rays upon the two dark gray hulls, giving the cold steel a warm glow. On the dock, the Lanfang crew began to disembark in formation. As they walked down the gangway, they couldn't help but look back—their eyes held a mixture of reluctance, worry, and a sense of relief at having completed their mission.

Litt was the last to leave. He stood at the gangway and gave a final salute towards the bridge. There, German officers had taken over their posts, and unfamiliar faces stood before the familiar control consoles.

"I wish you a safe voyage," he said to Koch, who was accompanying him.

"Thank you," Koch returned the greeting. "And I wish your country... will never have to go through what we have gone through."

The two shook hands again, this time gripping them tightly for a long time.

Li Te descended the gangway and stepped onto the dock. As he turned back, he saw German sailors raising the German naval ensign—a black, white, and red tricolor flag slowly unfurling in the morning breeze, replacing the Lanfang flag. (Of course, the Lanfang flag would be flown again once they entered international waters.)

It wasn't just the flags that changed. Over the next eighteen days, these two warships would traverse half the globe, transferring from the naval ranks of a newly emerging nation to the battle formation of an ancient empire. They would carry Germany's hopes, sailing towards the North Sea, towards the battlefield, towards an unknown destiny.

The three hundred crew members of Lanfang will board another ship and depart for home in three days. They will bring back observation reports, technical details, and a firsthand assessment of the current state of the German Navy.

These are the things Chen Feng truly wants.

"General, the carriage is ready," the adjutant whispered.

Li Te took one last look at the two giant ships, then turned and walked toward the waiting car. Behind him, the whistle of the Yangtze River suddenly sounded, its long, deep sound echoing over Dubai Harbour and startling the seagulls in the harbor.

The moment of departure is almost here.

A railway marshalling yard in eastern Poland.

The endless freight trains were parked on the tracks. The carriages were not ordinary passenger carriages, but rather temporary transport vehicles converted from flatbed and boxcars used for carrying livestock and goods. The German Iron Cross insignia and unit numbers were painted white on the carriages, but upon closer inspection, it could be seen that some of the insignia were newly painted on, covering the original, faded Japanese markings.

On the platform, German military police stood guard every five steps and sentries every ten, their rifles pointed downwards but their fingers resting outside the trigger guards, vigilantly watching their surroundings. Further on the higher ground, machine gun emplacements were already in place, and anti-aircraft searchlights flickered in and out of the morning mist. This was a top-secret transport operation; the entire railway line was under martial law, civilians were forbidden from approaching, and even local German troops were not allowed to inquire about the details of this "special shipment."