Chapter Forty-Nine: Strategic Reserves

When Feng Chengqian set about drafting the warship construction plan once more, conditions were considerably better than they had been two years prior. For example, thanks to purchasing technology from Britain, the Empire was now capable of manufacturing Parsons steam turbines, and a machinery factory in Bremen had independently developed large-scale steam turbines. It could be said that, supported by imperial funding, many navy-related technologies had achieved significant breakthroughs.

However, Feng Chengqian now faced an even more difficult decision. As steam turbine technology matured, imperial enterprises had also developed oil-fired boilers, whose performance surpassed traditional coal-fired boilers in every respect. The pressing question thus became: should one choose oil-fired boilers or stick with coal?

In terms of performance alone, oil-fired boilers were the obvious choice. With the same amount of fuel, they could provide greater range for warships, enjoyed considerable advantages in maintenance and upkeep, and boasted a better power-to-weight ratio than coal-fired boilers. But performance could not be the sole consideration.

For the Imperial Navy, coal was not an issue; the Empire possessed abundant coal mines but lacked sufficient oil fields—not even a single large oil field existed. This meant that, in times of war, the supply of fuel oil would inevitably become a severe problem. For this reason, the majority of engineers and naval officers believed coal-fired boilers should be chosen; otherwise, during wartime, the Imperial Navy’s warships would become mere ornaments for want of fuel oil. Even Tirpitz, stationed in the Far East, wrote back to recommend Feng Chengqian adopt coal-fired boilers.

One had to admit, the concerns of Tirpitz and his peers were well-founded. Although the Imperial Navy was developing rapidly, it was impossible to surpass the British Royal Navy in the short term, or even within ten or twenty years. More importantly, as the Imperial Navy grew, relations with Britain would inevitably turn hostile. Once war broke out and Britain became an enemy, the Royal Navy would blockade the North Sea, cutting off the Empire’s access to oil through normal trade.

On the European continent, the nearest oil fields lay in Romania. Clearly, no one expected the Empire to immediately seize Romania after the outbreak of war, and Romania’s oil production was not substantial. Thus, only by relying on coal-fired boilers could the fleet’s fuel supply be guaranteed in wartime.

Yet coal-fired boiler technology was already outdated, and the performance of the propulsion system directly determined the capabilities of a warship. If coal-fired boilers continued to be used, the Imperial Navy’s vessels would never surpass their British counterparts and would suffer in terms of key performance indicators. For Feng Chengqian, who valued quality over quantity, this outcome was hard to accept.

If Feng Chengqian insisted on using oil-fired boilers, he would have to resolve the issue of fuel supply. To this end, he adopted a two-pronged strategy, making preparations on both fronts. First, he funded the Empire’s chemical enterprises to conduct in-depth research and improve coal chemical technology, so as to produce liquid fuel from coal—such as coal tar—to replace heavy oil if necessary. Second, he proposed the establishment of a strategic reserve mechanism, stockpiling vital resources like fuel oil during peacetime to ensure sufficient supply in the early stages of war.

However, these matters exceeded the authority of the Minister of Naval Warfare. In early 1904, Feng Chengqian formally submitted a proposal to Caprivi: the Empire should promptly establish a national strategic reserves mechanism and accumulate strategic resources in peacetime.

Regrettably, at that time, almost no one recognized the importance of strategic reserves. Not only Caprivi, but even many army generals deemed Feng Chengqian’s proposal superfluous. At an imperial audience on April 4th, several army officers argued that the German Army hoped to defeat France or Russia within six months and quickly end the land war; isolated Britain would then have no choice but to seek peace with the Empire, so there was no need to amass large quantities of strategic materials for the navy. As for the army, most supplies were domestically produced, making stockpiling in peacetime unnecessary.

Fortunately, clear-sighted individuals included not only Feng Chengqian but also Schlieffen, who had already become Chief of the General Staff. On April 10th, Feng Chengqian and Schlieffen went together to the Potsdam Palace. To establish a strategic reserve system, they first had to persuade the Kaiser.

“Do you truly believe this is necessary?” The Kaiser, though he trusted Feng Chengqian and Schlieffen’s abilities, was still hesitant about creating a strategic reserve system—mainly because it would consume a vast amount of national resources.

Feng Chengqian did not rush to respond; without army support, the navy’s needs would be hard to meet.

Schlieffen nodded and spoke earnestly: “Many believe we can defeat France or Russia within six months, but it is equally undeniable that, should either France or Russia show signs of collapse, Britain will immediately intervene. We would then be unable to secure victory within half a year.”

Frederick III’s brow twitched, his expression grave.

“Of course, a swift victory is not impossible—just highly unlikely,” Schlieffen continued after a brief pause. “Given the current situation, if we can defeat France within three months, Britain will not have sufficient time to prepare for war and will not intervene. This is not a certainty; it will change over time. If war erupts in ten years, perhaps we’ll have only two months, or even less. The key point is, if we cannot defeat France before Britain joins the war, the conflict will undoubtedly become a protracted war of attrition, and the Empire lacks the resources to sustain such a struggle.”

“If that is the case, even with strategic reserves, it would be to no avail.”

“That may be so, but the better prepared we are, the greater our chances of victory.”

“Is that so?”

Schlieffen exhaled slowly. “If a general war breaks out, we must first focus on the western front, concentrate our forces to crush France, and strive for a decisive battle like Sedan. We are therefore adjusting our domestic railway system, building many branch lines in the west and increasing the main lines’ transport capacity. The problem is, if we cannot defeat France swiftly, we must immediately revise our strategy.”

“How would you revise it?” The Kaiser, a veteran of countless campaigns, understood military matters well.

“Switch from offense to defense.”

“This…”

“No matter the timing, as long as we take the offensive—even if we cannot defeat France—we can at least push the front into French territory. If we must switch to defensive operations, we must be prepared for a long war, and conducting it on enemy soil is most advantageous for us.”

Frederick III nodded thoughtfully, indicating his understanding.

“If France cannot be defeated, then we must shift our focus to the eastern front, aiming to defeat Russia before the combined war potential of Britain and France is fully unleashed, and to sweep through Eastern Europe. If we can force Russia out of the war and control Romania, Bulgaria, and Serbia, we may gain the support of the Ottoman Empire and thus establish a land route. By my estimate, it would take two to three years to defeat Russia, so we must stockpile strategic materials to cover two to three years of consumption in a major war.”

The Kaiser nodded again, turning his gaze to Feng Chengqian.

“In wartime, should Britain join the conflict, we will certainly face a blockade. Until Russia is defeated and Eastern Europe cleared, our only resources will come from Sweden. I believe two to three years of reserves is merely the minimum. Whatever the course of the war, we must prepare for the worst.”

“You mean to say…”

“It would be best to set the standard at five years, and to raise the annual consumption baseline. If we cannot achieve victory in five years, then spending more time serves little purpose.”

“The Duke is this pessimistic?”

Feng Chengqian smiled. “When the fate of the Empire for a thousand years is at stake, it is not a matter of optimism or pessimism. As General Schlieffen said, we must prepare for the worst.”

“So, establishing a strategic reserve system is the worst-case preparation?”

Feng Chengqian nodded, saying no more; nor did Schlieffen. They had already laid out the pros and cons; the decision lay in the Kaiser’s hands.

After pondering for some time, Frederick III finally spoke: “As you both know, the Chancellor has always opposed this—mainly because it would require enormous expenditure, and the imperial finances are not exactly ample. If we must set aside tens of billions of marks every year…”

“It would be over a hundred billion.”

Frederick III started, scarcely able to believe what he’d heard from Feng Chengqian.

Schlieffen, too, was surprised; such words could only make the Kaiser recoil.

“If it were just for the Imperial Navy’s strategic reserves, then an annual investment of two billion marks over the next ten years would suffice,” Feng Chengqian said with a smile. “But as Your Majesty knows, the army is far larger than the navy. If the army is included, the yearly investment rises to one hundred and twenty billion marks.”

“In that case, it is even less feasible.”

“Your Majesty, may I ask one question?” Feng Chengqian’s smile faded. “All that we have done over these years—what is it for?”

The Kaiser did not answer, knowing full well that this was not Feng Chengqian’s only question.

“Last year’s events have demonstrated unmistakably that France is actively preparing for war, and Britain is very likely to become France’s ally. Strictly speaking, war has already begun—only the gunpowder has yet to be ignited. We are already contesting the Franco-Russian alliance in every field. Since war is inevitable, we must start preparing now if we are to stand as the final victor when the smoke clears.”

Frederick III remained silent. After all, spending one hundred and twenty billion marks annually on strategic materials—whose usefulness remained uncertain—was not a simple decision. Should things go awry, the Empire might collapse before war ever broke out.

Feng Chengqian did not continue speaking, knowing that the Kaiser would have to make a decisive choice.