Chapter 42: Never Forget the Seventh of July

This is nothing but a factory for mechanical spare parts!

Once again, on his way to the Karl Metal Company, General Jiang flipped through the documents in his hand, his brow furrowed in concern.

"Are you certain this company can handle our order?" He asked, his tone heavy with skepticism as he looked at Song Peilun beside him.

Ever since arriving in the United States last year, General Jiang had discovered that things were far from simple. Although the U.S. had approved aid to China, American production capacity was stretched thin. With priority given to Britain and the Soviet Union, there was simply little left to spare for the Chinese. The Americans had been blunt: find your own suppliers for the weapons you need, and send the bill to the U.S. government.

As the head of the National Defense Supply Corporation, General Jiang found himself in an ironic predicament—he had plenty of U.S. dollars in hand, but nowhere to spend them. He had even traveled to Canada to attempt to place an order with the Inglis Company for the weapons desperately needed back home. But the Inglis Company was also prioritizing British orders, leaving China to wait in line.

"General, this company is owned by a fellow countryman. When the time comes, we can appeal to his sense of patriotism and reason. Since he is Chinese, surely we can convince him!" Song Peilun, who understood the current plight of the Defense Supply Corporation, spoke up directly.

"Besides, we have no other choice, do we? The telegram from the Inglis Company says they won't be able to supply us until the end of the year at the earliest. But can the war situation at home really wait that long?" Wang Fuji, sitting nearby, chimed in. "Moreover, the pistols they promised us were requisitioned by the British. Even if they accepted our order now, there’s no guarantee they wouldn't just seize them again."

"Damn the British! Last year, when the Japanese were bombing Chongqing and we were in dire need of aircraft, they colluded with that old scoundrel to divert the planes meant for our aid to North Africa. Now, the weapons we commissioned have been requisitioned as well—and those pistols were made from our own prototypes..."

Whenever this subject came up, General Jiang was filled with rage. He had personally communicated with the Inglis Company, even delivering the five Belgian-made FN1935 prototypes for the Canadians to reverse-engineer. He never imagined that after delivering only 1,000 units, the British would seize the rest. The FN35 was far superior to the British’s shoddy revolvers.

"Indeed, General. At the very least, here we don't have to worry about the British hijacking our supplies!"

General Jiang nodded. The sting of having shipments intercepted was bad enough, but being reprimanded by telegrams from home was far worse. "But have they ever produced firearms before? This is just a machine shop."

Hearing the General’s doubt, Wang Fuji replied, "General, we’ve been in the U.S. for over a year and visited so many enterprises. How many of them were original gun manufacturers? The only reason the U.S. can provide so many weapons to the Allies is that civilian factories have joined the effort and are producing them!"

"True enough..." General Jiang nodded slightly. "Let us hope this trip is not in vain."

As it turned out, General Jiang and his party were far from disappointed. The only letdown was that the legendary owner was away, reportedly having gone to Havana for the weekend. To jet off to another country just for a weekend—that was true wealth!

After their initial amazement, they were in for a surprise. When they asked if the company had the capacity to produce weapons, Karl, the manager, smiled and invited them to the factory’s backyard. Before they even arrived, they heard the sharp, rhythmic crack of gunfire.

"Manager Karl," General Jiang asked, "what is that gunfire?"

"General, in this war between justice and evil, no one can remain on the sidelines, and that includes us. Our company has developed a new type of submachine gun and is preparing for production. Its performance is outstanding—even better than the M3 submachine gun." Karl looked at General Jiang and emphasized, "Not only is it superior, but it is also cheaper—even cheaper than the Sten submachine gun!"

"Is that so? Cheaper than the Sten?" General Jiang asked, surprised, before adding, "But for weapons, cost is not the only factor; reliability is paramount."

"Rest assured, General, its reliability will surprise you..."

What followed was a live-fire demonstration. The results proved that the weapon surpassed all similar arms—including the Thompson, the M3, and the Sten—in power, reliability, and durability. During testing, it fired over 5,000 rounds with only one malfunction. Faced with such a reliable weapon, General Jiang and his party were completely won over.

"How much per unit, if we..." General Jiang paused, considering, "...if we were to order 50,000?"

"Twelve dollars!" Karl explained, "While this price is slightly higher than the Sten, General, this is only the first batch. If production reaches 500,000 units in the future, I guarantee it will be less than ten dollars."

Twelve dollars was incredibly cheap! General Jiang exchanged glances with Wang Fuji and Song Peilun. It might seem pricier than the Sten, but that was the British military's procurement price; they could never hope to secure such a rate, as the Canadian factories demanded their own profits.

"When can you deliver?" General Jiang asked without hesitation.

"The first batch within a month, and the rest within two." Karl was very confident in his company’s capacity. The gun consisted of only seventeen parts, and the two-month timeline was merely to allow for the streamlining of the production process; otherwise, it could have been done even faster.

"Then let us sign the contract now!"

There was no hesitation. The country was in urgent need of arms, and waiting for the Americans to allocate supplies or for the British to return their orders was a fool's errand. Since they could deliver in two months, there was nothing to lose.

After signing the order for 50,000 submachine guns, General Jiang, upon learning the weapon had not yet been formally named, thought for a moment and proposed that they be engraved with the inscription: "Made in America, July 7th Submachine Gun."

As soon as these words were spoken, the conference room fell into silence. Among the Chinese present, not one could hold back their tears; they all knew the significance of "July 7th."