Republic of China: German-equipped divisions massacred as warlords guarded the nation's borders

It's 5:30 in the morning.

Chen Zijun's bedroom at the Longhua Road Garrison Command Headquarters.

It was still dark.

Chen Zijun opened his eyes.

He sat up, a slight smile playing on his lips.

Chen Zijun got up, dressed, and ordered the guards to prepare the carriage.

We're going to the shipyard today.

……

Eight o'clock in the morning.

Jiangnan Shipyard.

Chen Zijun's car stopped at the gate.

The last time I came here, it was a half-dead abandoned factory. Several rusty cranes leaned against the dock, the bottom of the dock was overgrown with weeds, and the workers squatted listlessly outside the shed smoking dry cigarettes.

That's not the case anymore.

The main gate had been repainted, and brand-new guard posts stood on either side. Eight fully armed German-trained soldiers guarded the entrance, and everyone entering or leaving had to have their identification checked three times.

The scene inside the door was even more breathtaking.

Inside the three large shipyards, scaffolding rose densely from the ground. Hundreds of workers, dressed in uniform gray overalls, busied themselves under the cranes. The clanging and banging of riveting echoed from all directions, mingled with the foreman's shouts and the roar of steam hammers.

Two million pounds were spent, and the effect was immediate.

Liu Zhenliang was already waiting at the entrance of Dock No. 1.

He was wearing an old, greasy work uniform, his hair was disheveled, and his eyes were bloodshot. It was clear he hadn't slept much for several days.

But his energy level was frighteningly high.

"Young Marshal!"

Liu Zhenliang jogged up to greet him, his face beaming with a smile.

"You're here? Perfect timing! I'll show you!"

He practically dragged Chen Zijun towards the dock.

Dock No. 1 is the largest dry dock in the entire shipyard, measuring 120 meters long and 18 meters wide. The last time I visited, it was just a large pit filled with mud and water.

Now, a brand-new concrete foundation has been laid at the bottom of the dock. German-imported gantry cranes have been installed on both sides. The drainage system has been upgraded, and eight steam water pumps are running day and night.

At the very center of the dock, a huge steel structure lay quietly on the support frame.

Main keel.

The main keel of the Class A destroyer.

It is 93 meters long and is made of 17 sections of special steel plates riveted together. Each section's joint has undergone three calibrations and two stress tests.

Liu Zhenliang stopped beside the keel, his voice suddenly trembling slightly.

"Young Marshal, look. This is... this is the first modern warship keel we built ourselves."

He crouched down and placed his palms on the cold steel plate.

"I've worked in this shipyard for twenty-three years. I've built ships for the late Qing Dynasty, for the Beiyang Fleet, for the United States, and even repaired ships for the Japanese. But I've never... never built a single warship that truly belonged to the Chinese people."

He looked up at Chen Zijun.

A nearly fifty-year-old naval veteran, a vice admiral of the first generation of technical naval personnel in China, with tears welling up in his eyes.

"Young Marshal, this dragon bone is the beginning."

Chen Zijun remained silent.

He walked over to the keel, squatted down, and tapped the steel plate with his finger.

A dull hum echoed through the dock.

Good steel.

"Old Master Liu..."

"exist!"

Chen Zijun took out a brown paper envelope from the inner pocket of his military uniform and handed it over.

"This is the complete set of design drawings for the Parsons steam turbine. Also included is the bill of lading for 500 tons of special shipbuilding steel. It will arrive in three days."

Liu Zhenliang's hands trembled as he took the envelope.

He opened it and glanced at it; his pupils dilated sharply.

"Parsons engines?! This...isn't this top-secret technology of the British Admiralty? How could you...?"

"Never mind how I got it."

"What about those five hundred tons of special steel...?"

"This steel was just produced on a trial basis by our Ma'anshan Iron and Steel Plant. Its performance is absolutely no worse than that of the British. Production is not high for now, but it's enough for your needs!"

Chen Zijun stood up and dusted off his trousers. "So, just tell me, with all this stuff, when can the Class A destroyer be launched?"

Liu Zhenliang's lips trembled several times.

He flipped through the drawings and took a deep breath.

"If the blueprints and steel are all fine... I'll risk everything... eight months! Eight months, and I'll launch your first Class A destroyer!"

"Six months."

Liu Zhenliang was taken aback.

"I'll add another 500,000 pounds. Hire workers, work overtime, three shifts."

Chen Zijun's voice was calm. "In six months, I want to see it floating on the Huangpu River. In eight months, I want to see all three warships sailing on the East China Sea..."

Liu Zhenliang gritted his teeth.

"Fine! Six months! If you can't make it, I'll give you my head!"

Chen Zijun chuckled. "What would I do with your head? I need a warship."

He turned and walked out of the dock.

Liu Zhenliang stood beside the dragon bone, clutching the kraft paper envelope, and didn't move for a long time.

An old riveter who had worked for him for twenty years whispered, "Chief, what's that?"

"Steam turbine blueprints."

Liu Zhenliang's voice was extremely hoarse. "Something the British wouldn't give up even if they died."

The old riveter paused for a moment.

Then he turned his head, looked at the huge main dragon bone, and suddenly laughed.

"Director, are we really going to build warships this time?"

"make."

Liu Zhenliang tucked the blueprints into his pocket and said, slowly and deliberately, "Give it your all. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity."

The news spread like wildfire in the shipyard.

In less than ten minutes, all the workers at Dock No. 1 knew that the Young Marshal had once again obtained the core blueprints from the British and 500 tons of special steel.

A young apprentice who was moving rivets slammed the iron bucket on the ground and shouted at the top of his lungs.

"Brothers! Give it your all! This ship will be faster than the British's!"

The riveting sounds that filled the dock suddenly intensified, clanging and clattering like drums.

Liu Zhenliang stood beside the keel, listening to the sound, and took a deep sniff.

He didn't turn around. But his back was ramrod straight.

……

Outside the dock.

Just as Chen Zijun reached the car, Shen Li rushed over.

"Young Marshal!"

He was clutching a telegram in his hand, and his face looked very unpleasant.

"Just received an urgent telegram. Something happened in the Nanjing direction."

Chen Zijun took the telegram and glanced at it.

The outskirts of Nanjing.

The 7th Independent Mixed Brigade of Fujian Military Governor Sun Yuanfeng and the vanguard regiment of the Hunan 8th Army were facing off at Pukou Wharf. At 4:00 AM this morning, an armed conflict broke out between patrols from both sides in Liuhe Town.

Three people were killed.

Two hungry wolves pounced at the piece of meat he had deliberately thrown out.

Then they started biting each other.

Chen Zijun folded the telegram and stuffed it into his pocket.

He looked up at the white steam rising above the Jiangnan Shipyard.

Inside the dock, the riveting continued. Clang, clang, clang, one after another, like a heartbeat.

"Back to headquarters, meeting."

He opened the car door and got in.

It's time to see a play in Nanjing.