Chapter 46 Loyalty and Honor

In a cozy and elegantly decorated booth in the city center of Wilhelmshaven, Zhang Hainuo recounted every detail of his and Hessen's experiences over the past year to Redel. Each word seemed to stimulate the Navy Colonel's thoughts and heart. Within the German Navy, few adventurous officers dared to make such bold moves. It was mostly the brave young men of the Army Air Corps who, at the end of the war, secretly flew planes to the rear to prevent them from falling into the hands of the Allied powers.

After listening to this, Redel stayed silent for several minutes, then locked his gaze onto Zhang Hainuo's eyes. "Hainuo, you're not joking with me, are you?"

Zhang Hainuo earnestly replied, "Erich, this is no time for jokes! We need your help!"

Redel pondered for a while before nodding. "Although what you're doing goes against orders, it indeed preserves a precious asset for the German Navy! Now, the German Navy has no submarines left, not to mention the High Seas Fleet, sigh..."

"We've learned about all this from the newspapers. I share the same regret and sorrow for everything," Zhang Hainuo added.

Next, Zhang Hainuo told Redel that his goal was not only to preserve U148 but also to contribute to the revival of the Navy's submarine force!

Sipping his coffee, Redel said, "Hainuo, the Navy can't offer you protection right now, but I can try to request assistance from higher-ups for you."

"No, Erich!" Zhang Hainuo had completely lost trust in the "higher-ups." At least until Redel ascended to the Navy's Commander-in-Chief position, he didn't want to pin any hope on the Navy's higher echelons!

Redel looked surprised at his dear friend. "Why not?"

"Even if they had the courage to preserve U148, they won't tolerate us, a group defying orders!" Zhang Hainuo pleaded, "Erich, if you don't want to see us spend the rest of our lives in prison, if you don't want to see U148 taken by the British, please don't reveal this secret to anyone! Trust me, when the situation improves, we will rebuild the submarine force, and the Navy will rise again!"

Redel not only looked very puzzled but also flashed a hint of doubt in his eyes. He looked down at his coffee cup. The possibilities of whether the words were true or false, whether they were truly for Germany or had become spies for other countries, quickly ran through his mind.

After about half a cup of coffee's time, he finally looked up. "Alright, Hainuo! I promise you! What can I do for you now?"

"I need a list!" Zhang Hainuo told him firmly, "A list of domestic submarine experts and technicians!"

"Oh?" Redel suddenly had some new questions popping up in his mind, his reaction noticeably delayed.

"The Treaty of Versailles prohibits the German Navy from building capital ships and submarines, right?" Zhang Hainuo hinted.

"Correct!"

Zhang Hainuo continued, "But Brazil doesn't have such restrictions, right?"

"Brazil? Hmm..."

Redel struggled to follow this clue.

"We've already bought a shipyard in Brazil and obtained government permission to expand its scale. On the surface, it's a shipyard invested by German immigrants, but there are actually some very important secret projects involved!" Zhang Hainuo's eyes lit up.

"Submarines!" Redel's eyes brightened.

"Germany needs at least 15 years to get rid of the restrictions of the Treaty of Versailles. But if we do nothing during these 15 years, a huge technological gap will leave us behind England, France, and other countries! Once war breaks out again in the future, we will be in a very disadvantageous position!" Zhang Hainuo spoke very discreetly because he couldn't directly reveal the "secrets" of World War II, but to convince Redel, he added, "Now every German is full of resentment towards the Allied powers. It's only a matter of time before we reclaim what we've lost! The real peace is still far from coming!"

In history, the German Navy once secretly developed submarines under the name of the "Shipbuilding Engineering Bureau" through the Netherlands and evaded the eyes of the Allied powers. However, before Germany announced the reconstruction of the submarine force, they had only built a few submarines in total. While this had a positive impact on the development of German submarines, Zhang Hainuo believed it was far from enough.

Finally, Redel seemed to have made up his mind. He finished the remaining half cup of coffee in one gulp.

"Hainuo, you must not disappoint me!"

This list was not readily available. Redel said he needed some time to obtain the qualifications, so Zhang Hainuo and he agreed to meet again in two weeks.

After leaving Wilhelmshaven, Zhang Hainuo boarded the train to Osterode, while Hessen headed straight to his hometown in southern Prussia.

On the way, Zhang Hainuo did not see the bleak scenes he had imagined. However, as the train passed through some cities, he could see many armed individuals on the platforms who didn't seem to be regular army soldiers. Some wore uniforms without ranks, while others were dressed as ordinary workers. Their weapons varied: pistols, rifles, bayonets, and even batons. Some were on guard, while others were preparing to board trains to other places.

Free Corps?

This term popped into Zhang Hainuo's mind. With the end of World War I, the vast German army suddenly reduced from two to three million to one hundred thousand. The downturn in the domestic economy left many demobilized soldiers unemployed. Combined with the political turmoil, many ex-servicemen joined various local armed groups. These armed groups, known as Free Corps or Freikorps, were secretly supplied with equipment by the Defense Force and were initially used to deal with disputes in the eastern border regions with Poland and the Baltic states. However, they soon became involved in conspiracies to overthrow the republican government.

When the train stopped at a small station about a dozen kilometers from Hanover, a young man distributing flyers specifically stuck a few sheets of paper through the window. Zhang Hainuo glanced at them briefly; it was nothing more than recruitment propaganda for a small party, with slogans and manifestos written on it. Although there were some radical words, Zhang Hainuo found it crude and empty.

When changing trains at Hanover station, Zhang Hainuo bought a few old newspapers from the newsboy, hoping to get a rough idea of ​​the recent situation in northwestern Germany. To his disappointment, even major newspapers like the Hanover Post were filled with various radical speeches and political views of various figures. In the crevices of these articles were recruitment advertisements for local small-party groups. After reading through a newspaper, he could see a dozen or so obscure advertisements, with only a few words that were well-written, and the content had nothing noteworthy.

"The Army? Don't expect anything decent from those cowards in the Army!"

The sarcastic tone woke Zhang Hainuo, who was dozing off on his seat. He turned his head and glanced with the corner of his eye. Two men sitting back-to-back were arguing about something. He couldn't see the other's face, but from the voice, he could tell that the speakers were young men.

"You're wrong, our defeat doesn't mean the army is incompetent. Haven't you forgotten what happened in Munich four months ago? Without the army, the entire Bavaria would have fallen into the hands of those Soviet fellows!"

"Humph! The army is incompetent. They were just dealing with a group of untrained worker soldiers in Munich. Besides, without the help of the Freikorps, could they have taken Munich so easily?"

"See, without the support of the army, the days of the Socialists in power are numbered!"

Listening for a while, Zhang Hainuo knew their argument was related to the army and the situation in Bavaria. Hitler and the Nazi Party's development in Munich was closely related to the complex situation there after the escape of the Bavarian royal family.

These two young men argued fiercely, but their debate lacked coherence and their thinking was chaotic. To onlookers, it was just a very ordinary civilian argument, lacking any incitement.

Fortunately, the political situation in Germany had stabilized somewhat recently, and transportation was still relatively smooth. When Zhang Hainuo returned to the Finkensteinshtaten Manor, it was already evening. The large iron gate of the manor was tightly closed. He knocked on the door several times, but there seemed to be no movement inside the manor. Just as he began to worry, a light finally came on inside. After a few minutes, a man's voice came from inside:

"Who's there?"

It seemed to be the voice of the butler, Barend. Zhang Hainuo answered loudly:

"It's me, Hainuo von Finkenstein!"

The voice fell silent for a while before resuming accompanied by a woman's sharp scream:

"My lord, is it really you?"

"It's me!" Zhang Hainuo had to stand outside the iron gate and shout.

Half a minute later, Barend came running out with a lantern, followed closely by the maid, Llama, but there was no sign of the steward, Hastin.

"My lord, you... you've finally returned, this is wonderful!"

"I'm fine, just ran into some trouble while on a mission!" Zhang Hainuo casually made up a reason. After the iron gate opened, he glanced towards the house, but still didn't see Hastin, of course, nor the figure that haunted him.

"Where's Hastin?" Zhang Hainuo asked impatiently.

"Hastin... he... he's probably not doing well!" Llama choked.

"Where is he?" Zhang Hainuo asked urgently.

"In his own room!" Barend hurriedly carried the lantern and led the way, explaining, "Ever since we received the letter you sent from Turkey, Hastin has been sending living expenses to those people according to the address on it every month! The city is in chaos, there's no way to transfer money, so Hastin had to send me to some places, and he went to others. After being busy all winter, he fell ill!"

Zhang Hainuo was shocked, he couldn't help but quicken his pace, and soon they arrived at Hastin's room on the ground floor.

The room, with its simple and quaint furnishings, was lit by a small candle. The faint and unstable light couldn't help but evoke the phrase "the dying years." There was a very special atmosphere in the room, and Hastin was lying on his soft bed.

"Hastin..." Zhang Hainuo hurried to the bedside, and by the light of the candle, he saw Hastin's aged and colorless face.

Upon hearing the master's voice, the faithful Hastin reluctantly opened his eyes. At the moment he saw Zhang Hainuo, his lifeless eyes suddenly flickered, and his dry and cold hands grabbed Zhang Hainuo's sleeve tightly, struggling to speak:

"My lord... is it really you? You... you've come back!"

"It's me, it's me, I've come back!"

Zhang Hainuo had always thought of himself as emotionally strong, but at this moment, tears flowed freely from his eyes. Seeing a seriously ill old man suddenly make such a move, he already had a helpless premonition of what was about to happen. Although the time he had spent with Hastin since coming to this era did not exceed two months, his loyalty made him feel a feeling he had never felt before—except for parents, siblings, and lovers, there was no one else in his own time who would do anything for him without expecting anything in return, without complaints.

"Oh, that's great! My lord!"

Hastin struggled to raise his body slightly, and Llama quickly picked up a pillow to cushion him underneath. After taking a few heavy breaths, he spoke a little more smoothly.

"My lord... your name was listed on the casualty list in the newspaper... I didn't believe it, but then you wrote back and sent coins to us, I knew... you must be fine, this is great!"

"I'm fine, Hastin, look, I've come back all right!"

At this moment, Zhang Hainuo didn't have so much else on his mind to think about. He reached out his right hand and gently stroked Hastin's forehead, and in just over a year, this steward in his sixties had aged a lot.

"Llama, have you called a doctor?" Zhang Hainuo turned to his maid.

"Yes, we have. The doctor said Hastin had overworked himself, caught a chill, and, given his age, well... " Llama choked up, and by the last sentence, she was almost inaudible.

"I'm fine, my lord... you don't have to worry!" Hastin withdrew his left hand, slowly pulled out two wrinkled pieces of paper from under the pillow.

"My lord, these are the letters you wrote back. The address on them... I've been sending living expenses according to your instructions every month. Two families on them... have already... moved away, there's no way..."

When Zhang Hainuo took the two sheets of paper from his trembling hand, he suddenly felt how heavy they were. He had always regarded Hastin as a trustworthy steward, even feeling that although he was not a relative, he was very much like one, but he had overlooked the fact that he was already elderly. Now thinking back, he felt a wave of guilt.

"And Miss Anna... the Miss Anna you mentioned..." Hastin struggled to breathe, paused for a moment, and then continued with his weak and hoarse voice:

"She never came... never came! I don't know what happened, my lord, I'm so sorry!"

"No, it's not your fault!"

Another line of hot tears welled up in his eyes, like a mother's gentle hand caressing his face, and at this moment, what reflected in the young man's heart was—if he considered emotions as his weakness, Zhang Hainuo had to admit that no matter how hard he resisted, it was in vain.

"My lord... the gold you had someone bring back, along with the household accounts and belongings, I've asked Barend to take care of them. He's an honest man, trustworthy..."

Zhang Hainuo nodded incessantly, tightly gripping Hastin's right hand. After the last effort, that hand, marked with the scars of time, no longer responded to the outside world.

Hastin's funeral was held three days later, and Zhang Hainuo buried him close to the old Finkenstein family's grave. He believed that Hastin would be very happy about this because he was covered with the flag of the Finkenstein family, a glory that only direct members of the Finkenstein family could enjoy in the past.