Beiyang Dream

Chapter 31 Little Moltke's Question: For whom do you fight?

October 1, 1889, Tuesday, 2:00 PM.

Blue Salon, third row, aisle seat.

Chang Desheng unfolded the mimeographed textbook—"The Prussian Military System and the Organization of the General Staff"—on rough, yellow paper, the smell of ink was pungent. He rubbed the edge of the paper with his fingers, thinking: This printing quality would be substandard by today's standards. The ink wasn't completely dry, and it would easily stain his hands.

To his left sat Mohammed Essad, the bearded Turkish guy. Essad was speaking to him in a low voice about Russian infantry tactics, and Chang Desheng listened with "uh-huhs," but his mind was elsewhere.

As they drifted to the Kempinski Hotel, Luo Jingrou's dimples appeared on her face.

The recommendation letter had become a "project timeline" in Chang Desheng's mind. He agreed to it readily, but it was proving to be quite troublesome... Krupp would definitely have to give him face, but Schneider had taken the mortar blueprints back to Essen to find someone to test-produce them. Without his approval, where was he going to find a Krupp?

As for Dean Brauchitsch... I don't think I'm that familiar with him!

As he was working on his mental "timetable," he caught a glimpse of Hideaki Tojo sitting to his right and behind him out of the corner of his eye.

Tojo sat upright, his hands flat on the table, his eyes fixed on the blackboard. But Chang Desheng could sense that at least half of his attention was being paid to listening to his conversation with Esaad.

It became.

Chang Desheng sneered inwardly. Tojo was definitely listening intently to Esaad's argument about "Russian naval tactics and poor infantry-artillery coordination."

A smoke grenade, that's another one we've added.

He planned to talk about something more specific, such as the Russian army's winter logistics issues—this would further solidify Tojo's judgment that "the Beiyang Army is preparing for operations in cold regions."

Just then, the front door of the classroom creaked open.

......

A German army lieutenant colonel stepped in.

Chang Desheng looked up.

This man looks...remarkably like the old Moltke in the portrait. Not exactly the same in appearance, but in expression and demeanor, about 70-80% the same. But unlike the old Moltke's "calculating everything" composure, this man's eyes are deeper, more...melancholy.

What does it resemble? A phrase flashed through Chang Desheng's mind: a middle-aged project manager who has been subjected to psychological manipulation by the client for a long time.

Esaad nudged him lightly with his elbow.

Chang Desheng realized what was happening, jumped to his feet, and shouted, "Stand up!"

The eight international students sitting in the blue salon—four Japanese, three Turkish, and one Chinese—stood up straight in unison.

The lieutenant colonel walked to the back of the podium, put down the stack of textbooks he was holding, and scanned the entire room. His gaze lingered for a couple more seconds on Chang Desheng's face and the braid at the back of his head.

"Sit down." His voice wasn't loud, but it carried weight.

Everyone sat down.

"I am Helmut Johannes Ludwig von Moltke," the lieutenant colonel began. "From today onwards, I will be responsible for teaching you the course 'Organization of the General Staff of the Prussian Military System'."

Little Moltke! The nephew of the God of War, sounds pretty intimidating.

But in Chang Desheng's eyes, this guy was just an unlucky project manager who got a good plan (the Schlieffen Plan) but encountered a terrible client (King Wilhelm II) and an even worse construction team (the German executive).

The project's outcome—it went awry, and the once-thriving Second Empire went bankrupt.

Tsk, I feel sorry for you.

Just as he was feeling sorry for the other person, Moltke had already opened his textbook:

"The General Staff of the Prussian Military System, Lesson One: 'The Royal Family and the Military'."

Chang Desheng also opened the booklet, found the first chapter, took out his pen, unscrewed the cap, and struck a pose like a "model student".

But he was already indifferent to what he was about to hear.

Because he saw in the textbook: "The monarch is the soul of the army"... Isn't that just chanting scriptures?

He glanced at the oil portrait of Wilhelm II hanging on the side wall of the podium. The young emperor in the painting was wearing a marshal's uniform, his chin held high, exuding an air of "I'm second to none."

I thought to myself: Come on!

In November 1918, wasn't it you Junker officers who felt the war couldn't go on and joined forces to betray Wilhelm II, leaving him to shoulder the blame for the defeat and go to the Netherlands to live as a recluse?

Soul? The soul of your Prussian army is "victory" and "officer privileges," and the king is merely an ornament for this soul in times of peace.

If the decoration affects "Victory" and "Privileges", just change it.

How is this any different from the client demanding a redraw if they are not satisfied with the design?

......

Moltke walked up to the portrait of Wilhelm II before slowly turning around.

"Gentlemen," he began slowly, "the fighting power of the Prussian army comes half from rigorous training and the other half from unwavering faith in the King."

He paused, his gaze sweeping across everyone's face like a searchlight:

"Soldiers do not fight for the constitution, nor for an abstract nation. They fight for the king! As long as the king is there, the soul of the army remains; the king's orders are the army's direction."

Chang Desheng disagreed: "That sounds impressive, but the cost is too high."

In engineering projects, this is called "single key person risk." The proper approach is to have a Plan B to diversify the risk.

Did the Prussians not understand this? They did, but they chose to pretend not to. Because the rhetoric of "faith in the king" had the lowest management cost and was the most effective way to persuade soldiers to fight for their lives.

Moltke began calling roll:

"Tojo Cadet. For whom do your soldiers fight?"

Hideaki Tojo stood up abruptly, his back ramrod straight. Then, he spoke, his voice trembling noticeably with excitement:

"Fight for His Majesty the Emperor!"

Moltke's face remained expressionless; he simply nodded slightly. He turned to the Turk:

"Muhammad's students, and what about you?"

Mohammed Essad also stood up. This burly, bearded man, however, seemed somewhat hesitant at this moment:

"Fighting for His Majesty the Sultan... He is the shadow of God on earth. But..." He paused, seemingly choosing his words carefully, before finally adding, "Also for the glory of Islam, for the dignity of the Ottoman Empire."

Moltke frowned slightly; he caught the word "but"...

Finally, he looked at Chang Desheng.

"Chang, the student," Xiao Maoqi's voice remained calm, but Chang Desheng felt an invisible pressure descend upon him. "For whom do your soldiers fight?"

Chang Desheng stood up:

"Fight for the Emperor, fight for the Qing Dynasty."

As soon as he said it, he realized he was talking nonsense.

But you have to say the right things, just like when you're reporting to the client, even if you know the solution is terrible, you still have to say "this is the best solution at present".

Moltke stared at him, his deep gray eyes unblinking, for a full three seconds.

Then, Moltke spoke, his voice not loud, but the weight of his words was overwhelming:

"Chang Xuesheng," he said, his tone carrying the sternness of a client who has seen through a contractor's deception, "are you telling the truth?"

The classroom grew even quieter. Chang Desheng could feel Tojo Hidekyo's gaze behind him, like two cold nails driven into the back of his neck.

motherfucker.

Chang Desheng cursed inwardly. This little Mao Qi is unpredictable! Normally, this kind of question should just be a formality, why is he taking it so seriously?

Does he not understand the situation in the Qing Dynasty? Does he think my answer is too perfunctory? Or... does the emperor behind him still not understand who should receive the investment in the Far East?

Sigh, maybe he really didn't understand. Wilhelm II was a bit muddle-headed!

Without waiting for his reply, Moltke continued speaking, his voice echoing in the quiet blue salon:

"An army without a genuine, unwavering faith, no matter how well-equipped or well-trained, can never become a first-rate army. It may win battles, but it cannot withstand truly brutal tests, nor can it create miracles in desperate situations. Because what drives soldiers to transcend the limits of life and death is not pay, not fear, but faith."

He stared at Chang Desheng, speaking slowly and deliberately:

"Chang Xuesheng, does your Qing army have such a belief?"

There will be more in the future, but they won't be the Qing army!

While answering in his mind, Chang Desheng began a rapid risk assessment:

This isn't an academic issue; it's a matter of self-interest!

If he doesn't answer well, Wilhelm II might not bet on the Beiyang Army and himself, but instead bet on the Qing Dynasty... That's unlikely... Betting on the Japanese! It's hard to say! The Japanese and Germans have an "Axis relationship"!

So how should you answer? You can't just stick to the "whether you have faith or not" question... that's just a pretext, people don't want to hear lies.

Moreover, we can't mention the Qing Dynasty directly; it's too dangerous. We have to use a different guise.

Let's put it in the Japanese, which the Prussian War Academy is quite familiar with.

He took a deep breath, finally ending his thought, and began to speak:

"Lieutenant Colonel, you just asked about the Qing Dynasty's army, for whom they fought, and whether they had any beliefs. I'd like to take a different approach and ask you a question about Japanese history first."

Moltke raised his eyebrows and then nodded to signal him to continue.

Chang Desheng turned to the back row, his gaze landing on Tojo Hideaki's face:

"Tojo-kun, you are the top student at the Army War College, so you must know more about Japanese military history than I do. I would like to ask you, during the Tokugawa Shogunate period, until the arrival of the Black Ships, was the true lord to whom the Japanese samurai were loyal—the Emperor or the Shogun?"

Tojo's face darkened. How did I get dragged into this?

This is a difficult question to answer!

He considered it for a moment and said, "During the 265 years of the Tokugawa Shogunate, the Emperor was the symbol of the unbroken imperial line, residing in Kyoto and presiding over religious rites. The actual rulers of Japan and the commanders of the samurai were the Shogun in Edo and the daimyo of the various domains."

Chang Desheng nodded: "Thank you, Tojo-kun. So, nominally loyal to the Emperor, but actually loyal to the Shogun. Right?"

Tojo: "That's one way to understand it."

Chang Desheng: "Then where does the general's power legally derive from?"

Tojo: "An appointment from the Emperor."

Chang Desheng turned to Xiao Maoqi, speaking faster, as if explaining a technical solution at a project presentation:

"Lieutenant Colonel, this is the power structure in Japan before the Meiji Restoration: the symbolic level (Emperor) and the executive level (Shogun) were separated."

"The Emperor is the 'representative' of the nation, but he doesn't manage the day-to-day operations. The Shogun is the 'manager,' the actual leader, who pays the salaries of the samurai and sets rewards and punishments."

"This structure has been operating stably for 265 years. Why is it so stable? Because under unchanged external conditions, this system has the lowest operating cost. The Emperor does not interfere in specific affairs, so he will not make mistakes; the Shogun has real power, so he can maintain order."

He paused, then changed the subject:

"But in 1853, the Black Ships arrived, and the external environment changed dramatically."

"How did the Tokugawa Shogunate, the 'administrator,' perform in the face of the new situation? Incompetent, conservative, and corrupt."

"He failed to grasp the strength of the Americans and signed unequal treaties; he was unable to lead Japan to meet new challenges; he couldn't even protect the interests of the samurai class."

Chang Desheng emphasized each word, making sure it hit the mark:

"At this point, the samurai—that is, the soldiers of the shogunate era—began to settle scores."

"They're calculating: Can this general we're loyal to lead the country to survival? Can he protect our interests?"

The conclusion is: No!

"Therefore, the general has lost the trust of the samurai, and the samurai need a new one to pledge their loyalty to."

He looked at Moltke, his gaze clear, but his words carried a hidden meaning:

"And where does Japan's good fortune lie? It lies in the fact that their country still has a nominal monarch, the Emperor, who has never interfered in affairs, made any mistakes, and has a clean reputation for hundreds or thousands of years."

"The warriors can support a nominal monarch, depose the de facto monarch, and thus relatively smoothly complete a real social revolution!"

"This is the Meiji Restoration! A revolution launched by lower- and middle-ranking samurai!"

After he finished speaking, he bowed and then sat down.

He didn't say "Great Qing" once, but every word he used was about the Great Qing.