World War: Battleship Arms Dealers

Tirpitz sat back down in his chair and picked up the submarine warfare report. He turned to the last page, where there was a line of small handwritten notes in Behnke's handwriting:

"This plan will kill at least 50,000 neutral sailors and civilians and could trigger the bloodiest escalation of war in human history. God forgive us."

The old marshal stared at this line of text for a long time, then picked up his pen and added a sentence below it:

"God has left this war. Now, only we remain."

He closed the report and locked it in the drawer. Outside the window, the winter sun shone pale and weakly on Berlin, unable to dispel the city's cold and despair.

In the distant Pacific, in Washington, in London, in Dubai, countless people are racking their brains over the same question: how to win this war, or at least, how not to lose everything.

History, like a giant meat grinder, is ready to devour more lives, hopes, and dreams.

December 3, 1916, at exactly 6:00 AM.

At the top of the transmission tower of Dubai National Radio, a red warning light began to flash and rotate. This signal is usually used only to test the alarm system, but today is different—all citizens who hear the broadcast know that important news is about to be announced.

At 6:05, the radio interrupted its usual morning music program. After a brief static noise, a deep male voice rang out:

"This is the National Radio Station of the Republic of Lanfang. We are now broadcasting a special announcement from the Presidential Office. All citizens are requested to listen."

On the streets, pedestrians hurrying to work paused. In cafes, hands holding coffee cups froze in mid-air. At home, housewives preparing breakfast turned off the stove. The entire nation held its breath at that moment.

"In accordance with Article 7 of the Emergency Law of the Republic, and by resolution of the joint meeting of the Presidential Office, the National Assembly, and the Supreme Military Council, the Republic of Lanfang is now under a state of emergency."

The announcer's voice was flat, but every word struck the listener's heart like a lead weight.

"During the state of emergency, the following measures will be implemented: First, a military-priority rationing system will be implemented throughout the national industrial system. The production, distribution, and use of all strategic materials—including steel, oil, rubber, rare metals, etc.—will be centrally managed by the newly established 'Wartime Economic Committee.'"

"Second, a rationing system for basic necessities will be implemented. Rice, flour, cooking oil, sugar, cloth, etc., will be purchased in rations using 'National Rationing Certificates.' Specific standards will be announced separately by the Ministry of the Interior."

"Third, implement a labor registration and allocation system. All adult citizens aged 18 to 50 must register their occupation, skills, and other information with their community within seven days. The state has the right to allocate jobs as needed."

"Fourth, price controls will be implemented. The prices of all goods and services will be frozen for six months, based on the price at midnight today. Violators will be severely punished according to law."

"Fifth, news and communications controls will be implemented. All media content will be subject to review by the Information Censorship Office. International telegrams, telephone calls, and letters will be subject to necessary censorship."

The announcement lasted a full eight minutes. When the last sentence, "The above orders shall take effect immediately until the state of emergency is lifted," was spoken, the sound of papers turning over could be heard over the loudspeaker, followed by the National Symphony Orchestra playing the national anthem of the Lanfang Republic.

The majestic melody was broadcast across the country via radio waves, but to many listeners, the music sounded more somber and less exhilarating than it used to be.

8:00 AM, Press Conference Hall, Presidential Office.

More than a hundred reporters filled the hall, their camera flashes going off constantly. On the stage, Interior Minister Wu Wenyuan stood in front of the microphone, with the huge national emblem of the Republic—a red flag with a golden dragon—behind him.

"Dear friends from the media, I know you have many questions." Wu Wenyuan pushed up his glasses. The former university professor seemed a little uncomfortable under the spotlight, but his tone was firm. "First of all, I want to emphasize that the state of emergency is to deal with the complex international situation and to ensure national security and the basic stability of people's lives. It does not mean that war is about to break out."

"Mr. Minister!" The Dubai Times reporter was the first to raise his hand. "What exactly do you mean by the international situation? Is it Britain's military presence in the Persian Gulf? Or Germany's expansion in Europe?"

"Lanfang adheres to a policy of neutrality and does not intervene in any international conflicts," Wu Wenyuan replied, his answer standard and cautious. "But we have a responsibility to prepare for the worst-case scenario. Peace needs strength to defend it, and that is the significance of these measures today."

A reporter from Al Jazeera pressed further: "How long will the rationing and price controls last? Will the national standard of living decline?"

"The duration depends on changes in the international situation." Wu Wenyuan opened his prepared speech. "As for living standards—yes, there may be a temporary impact. But the government is committed to ensuring the basic living needs of all citizens. The rationing standards are scientifically calculated and sufficient to maintain a healthy lifestyle."

"What about job reassignment?" a young reporter stood up. "What if someone refuses a reassignment?"

The hall fell silent. Everyone stared at Wu Wenyuan.

"Under the Emergency Law, refusing national deployment is illegal," the minister said, his voice turning cold. "It could result in fines, community service, or even imprisonment. But I believe that at a time when national security is at risk, the vast majority of citizens will understand and support these measures."

The questions became increasingly pointed. Would a price freeze lead to a black market? To what extent would news censorship occur? What impact would it have on foreign nationals? Wu Wenyuan answered each question, some clearly, some vaguely, and some directly evasive.

Forty-five minutes into the press conference, an official from the Ministry of State Security entered through a side door and whispered a few words to Wu Wenyuan. The minister nodded and turned to the reporters:

"One last question."

The editor-in-chief of the Industrial Pioneer stood up. This newspaper was backed by the Lanfang Federation of Industry and Commerce, representing the interests of factory owners and merchants.

"Mr. Minister, the industrial priority rationing system means that civilian industries will not receive enough raw materials. Many factories may close down, and workers will lose their jobs. What compensation measures does the government have in place for this?"

Wu Wenyuan remained silent for a few seconds. This question touched upon the core contradiction—how to balance military and civilian use when resources are limited?

"The government will establish an 'Industrial Transformation Fund' to provide low-interest loans and technical guidance to affected businesses," he concluded. "At the same time, the expansion of defense companies will create a large number of jobs. We expect that the overall employment rate will not decline during the state of emergency, but may even rise."

"But workers might need to move from textile mills to arms factories, from food processing plants to chemical plants," the editor pressed on, "What if their skills don't match?"