pappabearbooks Chapter 38 The Grand Show in Portsmouth
Chapter 38 The Grand Show in Portsmouth
"...Dad, Mom, I'm doing well here. I have food to eat every day, I get paid, and I'm even learning to read. Once the railway is finished, I'll bring you over..."
"...Little sister, wait for me for two more years. Once Lanfang is established as a nation, I'll come back and marry you..."
"...Son, study hard. Your father is building the railway here so that you won't have to build railways in the future..."
As I listened to these clips on the anniversary, my eyes welled up with tears.
These people, who were miners, farmers, and peddlers in Southeast Asia just a few months ago, came here because of Lanfang's call. They didn't have advanced skills or rich experience, but they had the simplest wish: to build their own country so that their descendants would no longer be bullied.
And the railway was the country's first step.
"Minister Zhou!"
Someone called his name again. Anniversary snapped out of his thoughts and quickly walked over.
"Look at this," the technician said, pointing to a section of newly laid rail. "The joint is a bit large; trains might experience bumps when they pass through."
Zhou Nian squatted down, touched the seam with his hand, and then took out calipers to measure it: "It's 0.5 millimeters off. We'll have to tear it down and redo it."
"Minister, it's only 0.5 millimeters, a train can pass through..."
"It's one thing to get through it, but it's another to get through it well." Zhou Nian stood up. "The railway we built will run heavy-haul trains for decades. If it's off by 0.5 millimeters now, it might be 5 millimeters in a few years. We'll tear it down and repave it."
"Yes." The technician stopped arguing and called the workers over.
The sound of the hammer striking rang out again.
The anniversary celebration continues, with each section of track, each spike, and each bolt being inspected.
Quality. Quality. Quality.
The three words that Chen Feng repeatedly emphasized.
This railway is not only a transportation corridor, but also the backbone of Lanfang.
The spine must not be bent or broken.
As the sun set, Zhou Nian returned to the command post. His assistant handed him the day's progress report: 800 meters of sleepers laid, 750 meters of rails connected, and 1.5 kilometers of roadbed compacted...
It's 10 percent slower than planned.
But Zhou Nian didn't get angry. He knew the workers had done their best; in 42-degree heat and in the water-scarce desert, it was already remarkable that they could accomplish this.
He signed the report and then added a comment: "Three workers suffered heatstroke today and have been taken to the hospital. It is recommended that working hours be adjusted tomorrow and that heatstroke prevention measures be strengthened."
Quality is important, but people are even more important.
This was taught to him by Chen Feng, and it was also his deepest understanding from working on railways for twenty years.
At 8 p.m., the construction site closed. The workers dragged their tired bodies back to the temporary camp, lined up for food, lined up for showers, and lined up for drinking water for the next day.
Anniversary did not leave. He sat in the command post, by the light of a kerosene lamp, and began to plan the work for tomorrow.
Outside the tent, the desert night was quiet, with only the sound of the wind and the faint roar of the power plant in the distance.
An assistant brought over a cup of tea: "Minister, you should rest too."
"I've finished reading this." Zhou Nian pointed to the blueprints. "We'll start building Bridge No. 1 tomorrow. This is the first crucial step, and we can't afford any mistakes."
"Then I'll stay with you."
Under the dim light, the two studied the bridge structure diagrams, calculating the load-bearing capacity of each beam and the location of each pier.
Late at night.
Zhou Nian finally looked up, rubbing her sore eyes: "Okay, go to sleep. We have to get up early tomorrow."
Stepping out of the tent, he looked up at the starry sky. The desert sky was exceptionally clear, with the Milky Way stretching across the heavens like a luminous river.
He remembered something his father had said to him when he was a child, when they took him to see the stars in southern Yunnan:
"Son, look at the starry sky. Every star has its own place and its own orbit. People are the same; you have to find your own place and walk your own path."
Now, he has found it.
In this desert of the Persian Gulf, on this 60-kilometer-long railway construction site, among this group of Chinese people covered in dust but with light in their eyes.
His location is here.
His path lies ahead.
"Minister, what do you think will be transported on the first train after the railway is completed?" the assistant suddenly asked.
After thinking for a moment, Zhou Nian said, "We'll transport iron ore from the mines to the steel mills. Then the steel mills will smelt steel and build ships. Once the ships are built, they'll sail back to Southeast Asia."
"Let's drive back to Southeast Asia," the assistant repeated, his tone filled with longing.
"Yes." Zhou Nian patted his assistant on the shoulder, "Sail back to Southeast Asia. Take with you our railway construction skills, our shipbuilding abilities, and our determination to build a nation."
A night breeze swept by, carrying the salty scent of the distant sea.
He took one last look at the starry sky on the anniversary before turning and walking into the tent.
The sun will rise as usual tomorrow.
The railway will continue to be extended tomorrow.
One kilometer after another.
Until it connects the port and the mining area, the present and the future, and this desert and the distant homeland of Southeast Asia.
That is the true end of this railway.
This was also the true starting point of Lanfang.
Portsmouth Harbour, England, February 10, 1906.
The overcast sky finally cleared, and sunlight pierced through the clouds, bathing the dense crowds at the harbor. More than 50,000 British people gathered at the docks and on the surrounding hills, waving Union Jacks and singing "God Save the King." The sounds of the military band, the cheers of the crowd, and the blaring of ship horns blended into a deafening cacophony.
And in the spotlight, the massive warship in the dock had all its scaffolding removed, revealing its complete outline—HMS Dreadnought, the first all-heavy-gun battleship in the history of the Royal Navy, and Britain's response to the six German Westphalian-class battleships.
On the reviewing stand, King Edward VII, dressed in the uniform of a Grand Admiral, wore a standard monarchical smile. Standing beside him were Prime Minister Campbell-Banaman, First Lord of the Admiralty, the Earl of Selburn, and today's protagonist—Lord John Fisher, First Lord of the Sea.
"John," the King tilted his head slightly, his voice only audible to Fisher beside him, "to be honest, what do you think of our 'Dreadnought' compared to the German ships?"
Fisher maintained his smile as he faced the crowd, his lips barely moving as he replied, "Your Majesty, on paper, the Dreadnought is no less capable, and perhaps even slightly superior. Ten 12-inch main guns, steam turbine propulsion, and a design speed of 21 knots—these are all world-class standards."
"The specifications on paper," the king repeated, his tone meaningful. "And what about in reality?"
"In reality..." Fisher paused, "the Germans have six ships that have been in service for at least six months, having completed full training and integration. Our 'Dreadnought' was only launched today, and outfitting will take another eight months, followed by three months of sea trials. It won't be operational until early next year. In terms of time, we are at least a year behind."
The king's smile remained unchanged, but his eyes darkened slightly: "So, today's ceremony..."
"It's a necessary performance," Fisher stated bluntly. "Your Majesty, we need to give the people hope, our allies resolve, and our adversaries the impression that Britain has not given up. This is politics, and it's strategy."
Prime Minister Campbell-Bannaman leaned in: "Fischer is right, Your Majesty. The Cabinet has approved the construction of ten more ships, and the shipyard is operating at full capacity. By 1908, we will have eleven dreadnoughts, re-establishing our numerical superiority."
"The premise is that the Germans don't build any new ones for the next three years," the King murmured.
These words silenced the surrounding ministers.
Yes, the premise. The premise is that the Germans wait in place. The premise is that Emperor Wilhelm is content with the existing six ships. The premise is…
There are no prerequisites. In this race where everyone is chasing each other, no one will stop to wait for their opponent.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" The emcee's voice boomed through the harbor through the loudspeakers, "Now, His Majesty the King, please conduct the naming and launching ceremony for the Royal Navy battleship HMS Dreadnought!"
There was thunderous applause.
Edward VII walked to the bow, where champagne bottles were already prepared. Traditionally, he would smash the champagne on the bow while announcing the ship's name.
But today, he did one more thing—before smashing the champagne, he turned to the crowd and raised his right hand.
The port fell silent instantly.
"Today," the King's voice carried far through the loudspeakers, "we are witnessing not only the launch of a warship, but also the beginning of a new era for the Royal Navy!"
Cheers erupted again.
The King continued, "For three hundred years, the Royal Navy has been the strongest shield and sharpest sword of the British Empire. We protect the Empire's sea lanes, maintain world peace, and shoulder the mission of civilization!"
Thunderous applause erupted.
"Now, a new challenge has emerged." The king's voice suddenly turned serious. "Some believe that technological advancements will alter the balance of power. Some think that a few new warships can shake a three-hundred-year-old tradition."
He paused, his gaze sweeping across the foreign diplomats' section of the viewing platform—representatives from Germany, France, Russia, the United States, Japan… were all there.
"I want to tell these people: You are wrong."
The entire room fell silent.
"The Royal Navy is great not because we have the largest warships, nor because we have the most cannons," the King's voice rose, "but because we have an indomitable spirit! A legacy of glory! And the unwavering determination to fight to the very end to defend the interests of the Empire!"
He raised the champagne bottle:
"HMS Dauntless—this name represents the soul of the Royal Navy! Fearless! Never backing down! No matter what challenges we face, no matter what opponents we encounter, the Royal Navy will bravely confront them until victory!"