World War: Battleship Arms Dealers

Zhao Zhiqiang saluted and turned to leave. Lin Hwai-min stood alone at the control tower window, watching yet another fighter jet soar into the blue sky. This takeoff was perfect; the plane climbed rapidly, tracing an elegant arc in the sky.

But Lin Hwai-min knew that beneath this perfect facade lay hundreds of failures, mistakes, accidents, and the loss of young lives. This was the price of war, paid before the real battle even began.

He picked up the training logbook on the table, turned to a new page, and wrote the date: December 3, 1916. Then he wrote below:

「今日训练事故：1起。重伤1人。累计本月事故：7起。死亡4人，重伤9人。训练强度：保持。燃油消耗：超出预算230%。」

The pen nib paused on the paper, the ink spreading slightly. Lin Hwai-min wanted to add something, but in the end he simply closed the journal and locked it in the drawer.

Outside the window, another plane took off. The roar of its engine, like the howl of a wild beast, tore through the desert sky.

2 PM, Dubai First Shipyard.

In the massive dry dock, the hulls of six Lexington-class aircraft carriers were already taking shape. These behemoths, displacing 36,000 tons, stood in a row, like six sleeping steel whales. Gantry cranes moved overhead, lifting hull sections weighing hundreds of tons; sparks from welding cascaded down from above like waterfalls, drawing brief but brilliant arcs of light in the dimly lit dry dock.

Zhao Xuecheng stood on the observation platform of Dock No. 3, holding a construction schedule in his hand, his brow furrowed. Today, the Minister of Industry was dressed in overalls and a hard hat, his face smeared with oil, making him unrecognizable as a high-ranking official.

"Minister, here's the data you requested." A young engineer ran over and handed over a report. "According to the new schedule, the three-shift system can indeed shorten the construction period, but problems have also arisen: with workers working continuously for twelve hours, fatigue has accumulated, and the accident rate has increased by forty percent. Yesterday, a riveter at Dock No. 3 fell from a height of fifteen meters and is still in the hospital receiving emergency treatment."

Zhao Xuecheng quickly flipped through the report. The numbers were brutal: working hours increased by 50%, the accident rate increased by 40%, and the quality defect rate increased by 30%.

"What did the supervisor say?"

"The supervision team has issued three warnings, saying that if the work is rushed at this rate, the welding quality of the hull will be compromised. In particular, the load-bearing structure of the flight deck is vulnerable; if there are defects in the welds, a single bomb could cause the entire ship to disintegrate in wartime."

Zhao Xuecheng closed the report and looked into the depths of the shipyard. There, thousands of workers toiled like ants in a steel jungle. Most of them were Chinese immigrants, but there were also many Arabs and Malays. They had flocked from all over for high wages, living in temporary sheds next to the shipyard, working twelve hours a day, seven days a week.

"Tell the supervision team that the quality bottom line cannot be breached," Zhao Xuecheng finally said. "But the construction period cannot be delayed either. The solution... is to increase the frequency of quality inspections. Inspect each key process immediately after it is completed. If it is unqualified, rework it on the spot, but record which team was responsible. If a team has three consecutive quality problems, the entire team will be removed from key positions."

"The construction period..."

"I will apply to the Presidential Office to transfer skilled workers from other shipyards to provide support. In addition, I will inform the logistics department that starting today, the shipyard canteen will be open 24 hours a day, providing three free meals a day. Hot water showers will be installed in the dormitory area. The workers are working so hard, we must at least ensure they eat and sleep well."

The young engineer quickly took notes, then hesitated for a moment: "Minister, the workers are saying privately... is war about to break out? Otherwise, why are they in such a hurry to build an aircraft carrier?"

Zhao Xuecheng glanced at him: "Tell them that building aircraft carriers is to avoid war. The heavier the hammer in your hand, the less likely others will dare to bully you. This is the simplest of truths."

The engineer nodded, seemingly understanding, and ran off to relay the order.

Zhao Xuecheng stepped down from the observation platform and walked along the passageway at the edge of the dock. The air was thick with the pungent smell of steel, paint, and sweat. A tremendous noise surged from all directions—the clanging of pneumatic hammers, the cutting of chainsaws, the hum of crane motors, the shouts of foremen—all these sounds blended together to form a symphony unique to the industrial age.

"Minister Zhao!"

The dock supervisor ran over; he was an old shipwright in his fifties with a scar on his face that ran from his brow bone to his chin—a souvenir from an accident when he was young.

"Old Yang, how's the progress?"

"We're operating 24/7, but there are a lot of problems." Old Yang wiped the sweat from his face. "The turbine unit supplied by Germany has arrived, but the installation drawings are inconsistent. Our engineers and the German technical consultants have been arguing for two days, and it's still not resolved."

"Take me to see it."

They entered the dry dock. It was hotter and the air was thicker inside than outside. The hull of the "Azure Dragon" was almost complete, and workers were installing the superstructure. In the engine room midway between the hulls, a group of engineers were arguing heatedly over a blueprint.

"According to the original design, this unit requires additional cooling pipes, but there isn't enough space inside the ship!"

"Then change the design! Reduce the thickness of the armor in the adjacent compartment..."

"Are you crazy? That's right next to the fuel tank! The armor is thin; what if it catches fire after being hit?"

Zhao Xuecheng walked over, and the crowd parted automatically. The blueprints were spread out on a makeshift worktable, covered with correction marks in red and blue pencils.

"What's the problem?" Zhao Xuecheng asked directly.

A young engineer wearing glasses—who looked like a recent graduate—pointed to the blueprints and said, “Minister, the German design is based on their manufacturing standards, but our manufacturing tolerances are larger. If installed according to the original drawings, there will be a five-millimeter interference between the engine unit and the hull structure. We either need to modify the engine base or thin the hull structure.”

"How long will it take to modify the base?"

"Reprocessing will take at least ten days."

"What about thinning the structure?"

An older engineer nearby shook his head: "That's an extension of the main armor belt; thinning it would lower the protection level."

Zhao Xuecheng stared at the blueprints, deep in thought. Time, quality, safety—it was an impossible triangle, and choices had to be made.

"We'll work on both options simultaneously." He ultimately decided, "First, we'll organize the best team of fitters to grind the machine base on-site and eliminate the interference. Second, we'll add a 10mm anti-scraping liner inside the ship's hull in the interference area to compensate for the reduced protection caused by the thinning of the armor."

"But this will increase the weight..."

"Calculate the weight gain, then reduce weight from other non-critical areas. Remove some decorative structures and simplify the interior; warships are not participating in a naval beauty contest."

With the order clear, the engineers immediately split up and got to work. Watching them leave, Zhao Xuecheng said to Lao Yang, "You personally oversee this place. The 'Azure Dragon' cannot have any problems, understand?"

"Understood, Minister."