Chapter 56

While Wilhelm was about to finish breakfast, he remembered something. "Oh, by the way, I need to give you some intel to take back. Tell General Tukhachevsky that you found out about our super tank project. It weighs 150 tons, has a brand-new power system, and can reach a speed of 40 kilometers per hour. It's equipped with a 128mm main cannon and a 75mm secondary cannon, with armor over 200mm thick."

Natasha's eyes widened in astonishment. "150 tons? Really?" That's mind-boggling! As far as she knew, the Soviet-produced T-18 tank weighed just a little over 5 tons.

Wilhelm nodded earnestly. "Yes, it's true." However, we won't be able to mass-produce it.

They gathered again in the meeting room, where Tukhachevsky relayed Stalin's request to Wilhelm for blueprint review.

"Blueprint review?" Wilhelm wasn't a fool; after a moment's thought, he understood Stalin's plan. They wanted the blueprints first, and then they would figure out how to build it themselves? Unfortunately, even if they knew they couldn't actually build it, they couldn't provide the blueprints. Stalin only had data about battleships in his mind, with no complete designs. How could he give them something he didn't have?

Last night, he called in a few design experts from the Navy Department, asking them to design the 'Yamato.' These experts were dumbfounded when they heard about the data for this 'super battleship.' They said that designing such a super battleship would take at least a year and a half.

"We're not asking you to actually build it; it just needs to look convincing. Just enlarge the existing battleship designs" Wilhelm said after negotiating with these stubborn folks. Finally, they understood and claimed they could design it within a month.

Although a month seemed like a long time, Wilhelm had ways to delay. "If you want to review the blueprints, it's not impossible, but the blueprints aren't free. Let's trade them for the grain we discussed yesterday."

Tukhachevsky, of course, knew that the Germans wouldn't just give them the blueprints for free. He was prepared for this and asked, "And how much do you want?"

Wilhelm held up one finger. "Since we are friends, I don't want to ask for too much. How about 10 million tons?"

10 million tons? Tukhachevsky felt like cursing. Did Wilhelm think Soviet grain fell from the sky? "Your Excellency Wilhelm, you're joking, right? Even if we buy a battleship, we don't have 10 million tons of grain."

"..." Well, he remembered that the original Yamato cost 416 million US dollars. Exchanging 10 million tons of grain for it would mean each ton of grain would cost only 41 dollars. Now, just for the blueprint, they were asking for 10 million tons of grain. No wonder Tukhachevsky reacted like that.

"General Tukhachevsky, please don't focus solely on the price. This battleship is the 'super battleship' that carries the destiny of our German nation. I would throw away not just 10 million but even 100 million tons without hesitation if it meant seizing maritime supremacy. However, grain is still just grain, and throwing it away would only make it sink and foam at the bottom of the sea. But this 'super battleship' is the weapon that will restore German dominance at sea. If it weren't for the current pessimistic German economy and our friendship, even if you offered one billion or ten billion tons, I wouldn't reveal any information about this battleship. Don't think I don't know what you have in mind. I guess you will refuse our request as soon as the blueprints are thoroughly 'reviewed' and immediately start copying this battleship."

Tukhachevsky, of course, understood what the great leader Comrade Stalin meant. Although he knew the Germans wouldn't just give them the blueprints for free, they were using the excuse of 'review' to negotiate a lower price than the battleship's actual cost.

Tukhachevsky couldn't help but sigh internally. He was good at leading troops into battle, but bargaining like this was not his strong suit. "Your Excellency Wilhelm, if you have been paying attention to the recent situation in the Soviet Union, you would know that our harvest isn't a bumper one either. The Soviet people are also tightening their belts. As a national leader yourself, you surely understand how distressing it is to see one's own people go hungry."

Indeed, the Soviet Union didn't have an abundant grain supply internally.

Until 1913, Russia was a net exporter of grain. At that time, the country's population was 150 million, and the average annual grain production ranged from 75 to 90 million tons, with the ability to export 5 to 10 million tons of food each year. During the period from 1923 to 1925, the same grain production was enough to feed rural residents but insufficient to meet the increasing demands of the rapidly growing urban population.

However, feeding the growing population was not the only concern for the people of Russia. Some major agricultural regions became impoverished, and the remaining surplus grain available in the market mostly came from Ukraine, the North Caucasus, and western Siberia – regions that often faced the threat of early frosts.

In 1917, large productive private farms were nationalized, and the land was distributed among small farmers, leading to a sharp decrease in 'marketable' grain. Only about 10 million tons of grain were sold on the domestic market each year, far from meeting the increasing needs of the growing urban population, and there was little grain available for export.

As early as 1928 and 1929, Russia had to import grain from abroad to prevent severe food shortages in urban areas. This 'grain problem' was the underlying issue behind the forced collectivization implemented in 1930 and 1931. Although agricultural collectivization did not directly increase grain production, it helped transport harvested grain from rural areas to cities.

In such a situation, asking for 10 million tons? Only a madman would agree to those conditions.

Wilhelm nodded. "Certainly, I deeply understand that. Otherwise, I wouldn't offer this battleship in exchange for your country's resources." However, he started feeling a bit impatient. Why was there so much unnecessary talk? Why not get straight to the point and negotiate? He didn't have that much time to spare.

After more idle chatter, Tukhachevsky finally got to the point. "The price you're asking is outrageously high, and we can't afford it."

Wilhelm asked with contempt in his heart. "Then tell me straightforwardly, how much can you pay?"

"800,000 tons."

Wilhelm's mouth twitched slightly. Going from 10 million tons straight to 800,000 tons? That was quite harsh. "General Tukhachevsky, you said our price was outrageous, but I think your price is even more so." Well, regardless of the number, it was all pure profit. They would take as much as they could get.

After some back and forth, they finally settled on a price of 1.6 million tons. However, the condition for this price was that the Soviet Union agreed to Wilhelm's request from yesterday, which involved transporting raw materials from the Soviet Union to German factories for processing and then returning them as finished goods. Additionally, the design blueprints for the battleship wouldn't be handed over to the Soviet Union all at once. Instead, Germany would deliver one-tenth of the blueprints for every tenth of the grain delivered by the Soviet Union.

Although Tukhachevsky insisted on obtaining all the design blueprints at once, Wilhelm refused to budge. He didn't even have a single blueprint in his possession, so how could he give them to the Soviets?

Once everything was settled, Tukhachevsky couldn't help but wipe the sweat off his forehead. Although he felt the Soviet Union had made a good deal, Wilhelm in front of him resembled a greedy merchant. His relentless bargaining had truly exhausted Tukhachevsky. It made him despise the inherent greediness of capitalism.

"However..." Seeing Wilhelm hesitate, Tukhachevsky asked with curiosity, "Do you have any other questions, Your Excellency Wilhelm?"