The black staff car drove steadily through the evening streets of Dresden. The dim light of the streetlamps flashed past the windows, illuminating the thoughtful faces of the two Imperial Army giants in the backseat.
Moltke the Younger was not in a hurry to break the silence. He was still savoring the look in that young Lieutenant Colonel’s eyes at the final moment.
It was a look he was very familiar with, one that could only be seen in the eyes of the purest professional soldiers—devoid of a politician’s calculation, a merchant’s mercenary nature, or even a noble’s innate arrogance.
There was only absolute obedience to orders and an extreme desire for victory.
“Erich…”
Moltke the Younger finally spoke, his fingers tapping lightly on the military cap on his lap.
“It seems the previous investigation report was not exaggerated.”
Minister of War Falkenhayn turned his head, a faint smile appearing on his face: “I told you long ago, Lieutenant Colonel Morin is a good knife. As long as the hand holding the knife is steady enough, he can cut out any stubborn disease for the Empire.”
Actually, before tonight’s dinner party, the Army high echelon… or rather, the small circle headed by these two men, had long since thoroughly investigated Morin’s background and social relations top to bottom.
In this sensitive period, a young officer deeply valued by the Crown Prince and even the Emperor, commanding an elite force, and possessing spellcasting abilities, could not possibly not be watched from all aspects.
And the result of the investigation made this bunch of old-school Junker nobles quite satisfied, even pleasantly surprised.
First was “political innocence.”
Although during the period of combat in the Kingdom of Aragon, Morin’s unit and the “International Brigades” were friendly forces, and it was said that Lieutenant Colonel Morin and the commander of the International Brigades had a certain friendship.
But after returning to the rear, Morin did not contact any “foreign forces,” let alone make eyes at foreign envoys.
He dedicated 80% of his time to the army, and the remaining 20% of his time was basically spent at the estate of that “Radiant Crystal Queen,” Madame Falkenstein.
Besides that, it was the Imperial Crown Prince Georg and General Mackensen who were relatively close to Morin—Ludwig had already been ruled out; in the eyes of the investigators, he and Morin merely shared the comradeship of fighting side-by-side.
As the Imperial Crown Prince who had recently “focused his energy on military affairs” and hoped to gain the affirmation of Emperor Albert II, he single-handedly established the instruction unit, so it was very normal for him to be relatively close to Morin.
Or rather, the military high echelon was also happy to see this situation, because it signified that the binding between the military and the royal family could be deepened.
As for General Mackensen, this “Living Fossil of the Imperial Army” was life-and-death friends with Lieutenant Colonel Morin’s grandfather.
After Morin’s parents passed away, looking after the descendant of an old friend was also a very normal situation.
So even the pickiest military police spies couldn’t dig up any such suspicion from Morin’s social circle.
“However, this Lieutenant Colonel’s private life… does match his playboy reputation quite well.”
Falkenhayn seemed to remember something, the corners of his mouth curling upward as if unable to hold it down.
“The report says his relationship with Madame Falkenstein seems to be more than just a simple sibling-like relationship?”
“Erich, that is someone else’s private matter.”
Moltke the Younger waved his hand, his tone carrying no intention of reproach.
“Besides, a young man who lost his parents seeking some… comfort from an older woman is not unheard of in Dresden.”
“Furthermore, if the wealth and resources mastered by that Madame can truly be won over because of her relationship with Lieutenant Colonel Morin, it would also be a great assistance to the Imperial Army…”
The “sibling relationship” between Morin and Madame Falkenstein had never been much of a secret in the military or in Dresden’s high society.
Morin’s parents died early, and he was single-handedly raised and financially supported by Madame Cecilia.
Although the amount of this “financial support” might have been slightly large—large enough to support a dandy who was once famous throughout the city—this exactly showed the firmness of their relationship.
In the eyes of old-school military men, this kind of family-like bond was far more reliable than those fragile political allies.
This was also why, in the eyes of others, it was a very normal thing for Lieutenant Colonel Morin to return to Madame Falkenstein’s estate during his rest time.
In the eyes of Junker officers of this era, as long as it didn’t involve treason and choosing political sides, a slightly romantic private life was actually a manifestation of “masculine charm.”
“But it’s not just that Madame…”
Falkenhayn seemed to have thought of the contents of Morin’s personal investigation report, and the corners of his mouth completely couldn’t be held down anymore.
And the expression of Chief of the Army General Staff Moltke the Younger also became somewhat strange. He never imagined that one day he would break character over the private life of an Army Lieutenant Colonel under him.
According to the investigation by Department III, there was a country girl from Thuringia, and the daughter of Lieutenant General Seeckt, currently the Chief of Staff of the First Army Group, who were relatively close to Lieutenant Colonel Morin.
Although one of them was slowly gaining fame in the field of light weapon design and manufacturing, and the weapon manufacturing company named after her surname had also become a key equipment supplier to the Imperial Army.
And the other was a mortal genius girl who had long been famous in the Imperial Academy of Magitech Research, and recently also made breakthroughs in magitech communication technology.
But in the military’s view, this only showed that Morin’s playboy nature hadn’t changed…
Otherwise, with so many excellent firearms designers and magitech researchers, and even Imperial mages in the Empire, why were the ones close to Lieutenant Colonel Morin all young and beautiful women?
In addition, the joint R&D project between Morin and the Teutonic Knights was also known to the Imperial Army high echelon.
Because after completing the preliminary meeting with Leonia and the others, the Teutonic Knights’ new Armored Knight development project had already been synchronized with the Ministry of War and the General Staff according to relevant regulations.
Even Emperor Albert II knew about this matter; everything was done according to procedures without any problems.
However, speaking of this, Falkenhayn’s expression became somewhat strange.
“The ‘Golden Lion’ Leonia von Fortis? That Valkyrie who can bend a gun barrel with her bare hands?”
Hearing this name, the muscles on Moltke the Younger’s face also couldn’t help twitching.
This Grand Master, 1.9 meters tall with muscle lines like ancient Greek sculptures, although indeed very fitting with Morin’s aesthetic of “big carts” (a Chinese slang term for large/tall women), in the aesthetics of the vast majority of Imperial men today, this Grand Master could not be called “beautiful” by any means.
“This can only show one point.”
Moltke the Younger coughed dryly, trying to make his tone sound more serious:
“Our Lieutenant Colonel Morin… is indeed not very picky when it comes to women.”
A burst of tacit, low laughter rang out in the car.
In the eyes of the two, this was instead an advantage that couldn’t be better.
A young, energetic officer obsessed with military technology and women was much cuter and safer than those guys spouting nonsense in parliament all day holding “The Social Contract.”
Besides these people, Morin basically had no contact with anyone else within the Empire, especially not making contact with the various factions within the Empire.
The only social occasion he ever appeared in was when Minister of War Falkenhayn took him to attend a cocktail party to raise “war donations.”
As for the “private assets” related to Lieutenant Colonel Morin, this was even less of a problem in the eyes of this bunch of Junker nobles in the Army high echelon.
Are you kidding me… if a Junker noble didn’t have any “private assets” under their name, could they still be called a Junker noble?
Moreover, these “private assets” of Lieutenant Colonel Morin were also related to military technology, and he even knew to use other people’s names to name them, keeping himself behind the scenes.
Moltke the Younger and Falkenhayn judged fairly that Lieutenant Colonel Morin’s “private assets” had been continuously promoting the improvement of the Imperial Army’s combat power since the first day they were established…
It could be said to be hundred percent beneficial without a single harm.
“He hasn’t contacted the Social Democratic Party, hasn’t attended gatherings of the radical right-wing, and even politely declined those court nobles who tried to rope him in at the cocktail party.”
Moltke the Younger spoke slowly and gave the final conclusion: “Lieutenant Colonel Morin is a simple soldier, an Imperial officer with extremely high military talent, a slightly rich private life… but a reliable political stance.”
“Whether it’s Seeckt’s daughter, or that girl who makes guns, or even Madame Falkenstein…”
Falkenhayn also nodded, his tone returning to calm.
“The resources behind these people will ultimately be transformed into the combat power of the instruction unit, and even the entire Imperial Army… As long as this knife of his is still held in the hands of His Highness the Crown Prince, held in our hands, then this is a good thing.”
“That’s right, just like I just said…”
Moltke the Younger looked out the window; the outline of the city of Dresden appeared exceptionally heavy in the night.
“As long as he is a simple soldier, that is enough.”
Meanwhile, in another car heading towards the suburbs, Morin didn’t know that he had already been labeled “not a picky eater” by his two direct superiors.
If he knew, he would probably cry foul—his feelings for Grand Master Leonia were purely the pure feelings of comrades-in-arms!
If you insist I’m greedy, then at most I’m just greedy for the body of that gold-painted “Siegfried Mark 1”!
Morin lowered the car window halfway, letting the slightly cool night breeze pour into the car, blowing away the residual smell of alcohol and tobacco on him.
Dresden in the night was quiet and peaceful. The Elbe River in the distance shimmered under the moonlight.
Morin’s gaze cast toward the west side of the city; that was the direction of the Falkenstein Estate.
To be honest, he really wanted the driver to turn around right now.
Since their last parting, he and Cecilia hadn’t seen each other for quite a while.
That bone-deep longing became exceptionally strong under the catalysis of alcohol.
He missed the soft big bed in that estate, missed the black tea personally brewed by Cecilia, and missed even more that woman who always accommodated everything about him with gentleness.
But Morin ultimately held back. Being horny also required timing.
If, as Moltke the Younger said, the situation in the Balkan Peninsula was imminent, then there was still a huge mess of adaptive training for the instruction unit waiting for him to handle.
As a commander, indulging in a tender trap at such a critical moment was not only irresponsible to the battle brothers under him but also irresponsible to his own little life.
“Wait a little longer… wait until these two days of busyness are over.” Morin said silently to himself in his heart, forcefully suppressing that elegant figure back to the bottom of his heart.
“Sir?”
The orderly in the front passenger seat seemed to sense Morin’s silence and cautiously looked back.
“It’s nothing.”
Morin took a deep breath, forcefully suppressing those soft emotions back to the deepest part of his heart, and put back on that resolute commander’s “mask.”
“You said just now, the people from Demag Company are here?”
“Yes, sir.”
The orderly answered immediately, a bit of novelty in his tone.
“When we set out from the camp to pick you up, we happened to see them driving a… uh, very strange ‘tractor’ into the station. That thing made quite a racket…”
“A strange tractor?” Morin raised his eyebrows, then quickly realized what the other party was talking about.
It seemed his “pineapple pizza” had finally arrived.
The driver in the main driver’s seat also seemed to feel the change in Morin’s mood. Without even waiting for Morin to speak, he stepped down on the gas pedal a bit harder.
The car accelerated in the night, like an arrow leaving the bowstring, heading straight for the instruction unit’s station.
When the vehicle drove into the camp gate and stopped on that open ground illuminated separately by searchlights, Morin saw that big guy at first glance.
Despite being mentally prepared, when he actually saw the physical object of this half-track vehicle, he still couldn’t help but complain inwardly.
It really is quite ugly…
A boxy front end, a hood that had to be heightened to accommodate that massive radiant crystal internal combustion engine, trailing a tracked chassis that looked like it was forcibly welded on behind.
The entire body wasn’t painted with camouflage but exposed the original metal base color and anti-rust paint, gleaming with a rough industrial luster under the lights.
It was like a freak that hadn’t fully evolved, lacking both the lightness of wheeled vehicles and the mighty power of fully tracked combat vehicles.
But in Morin’s eyes, this was currently the most lovable thing.
Because this meant the infantry of the instruction unit would finally no longer have to rely on two legs to execute tactical penetrations in the future.
The day the “Imperial Guard Assault Instruction Unit” transforms into the “Imperial Guard Armored Assault Instruction Unit” was getting closer and closer.
“Lieutenant Colonel Morin!”
Seeing Morin get out of the car, several technicians wearing gray overalls with hands full of oil stains immediately welcomed him.
The leader was a middle-aged man wearing thick-soled glasses. That was the engineer from Demag Company responsible for this project, and also their chief engineer.
“This is the result you guys produced?” Morin circled around this half-track vehicle, occasionally reaching out to knock on that thick steel plate.
“Yes, Lieutenant Colonel Morin.”
The engineer pushed up his glasses, his tone carrying a bit of apprehension and a bit of pride.
“This is the improved test vehicle according to those brand new technologies you provided. We temporarily named it the D7 Experimental Chassis…”
“Although it looks indeed a bit… rough on the outside, its heart is brand new.”
According to this engineer, although this D7 Experimental Chassis before him used new technology, it wasn’t the newest test vehicle yet.
So the final shape of the vehicle wouldn’t look like this either, but would have armor plates added according to Morin’s requirements.
Morin stopped in front of the front end, looking at those not-yet-large front wheels and the complex track suspension system behind, then patted that hood that was even still somewhat warm.
“So how fast can this thing run? How much can it pull? Will it throw its tracks off after running fifty kilometers?”
Hearing Morin’s words, the engineer immediately straightened his back: “Regarding this point, Lieutenant Colonel, you can be assured! We tossed it about in the testing ground for a full three days. Besides being a bit loud, it’s like a tireless mule!”
“A tireless mule…” Morin smiled. This analogy was quite apt.
He walked around to the rear of the vehicle. There was an open-topped cargo bed, with two rows of simple wooden benches fixed facing each other on both sides of the compartment.
Although crude, for the infantry of this era accustomed to forced marches on foot, this could already be considered land “first class.”
“Are there specific performance indicators?” Morin turned around and looked at that engineer.
“For the version with armor plates installed, the combat weight of the entire vehicle will reach 5.8 tons. Besides the driver and co-driver, it can carry another five fully equipped soldiers.”
The engineer took out a densely recorded small notebook from his pocket and read by the light of the searchlight.
“Currently equipped is a six-cylinder radiant crystal internal combustion engine. On paved roads, its maximum speed can reach 50 kilometers per hour.”
“50 kilometers…”
Morin nodded. This speed was already quite considerable in this era.
It should be known that the radiant crystal trucks currently equipped by the Saxon Empire, before completing improvements, might not even be able to reach this top speed, and once off the road, they would turn into turtles stuck in the mud.
“What about off-road?”
“This is exactly its strong suit, Lieutenant Colonel.” The engineer’s tone became excited. “Thanks to the suspension system technology you provided, and the increased track ground contact area, on muddy roads and undulating terrain, it can still maintain a speed of 25 to 35 kilometers per hour.”
“And most importantly—” The engineer pointed to the stout towing hook at the rear of the vehicle, “While fully loaded with personnel, it can still tow a 77mm field gun, or a fully loaded ammunition trailer!”
Hearing this, Morin’s eyes finally lit up.
The field guns, which originally could only serve as fixed fire points or slowly advance accompanying infantry, instantly gained higher mobility.
Moreover, the 50mm anti-armor artillery currently being developed by the Krupp factory was lighter than the 77mm field gun, so it could also be towed by half-track armored vehicles.
This also meant that this artillery used to counter Armored Knights could, while the convoy completed a breakthrough and infantry jumped off the vehicle to deploy formation, unhitch and immediately conduct direct-fire shooting, providing sustained and fierce fire support for subsequently expanding the battle results.
Besides this, according to this engineer’s introduction, the D7 Experimental Chassis could also be equipped with other equipment, including machine guns, light mortars, and radios, by reducing the personnel carried and utilizing pre-reserved interfaces.
Truly achieving the “multi-purpose on one chassis” Morin had instructed…
However, although this Demag engineer praised this prototype to the skies, in the eyes of Morin, a transmigrator, this half-track vehicle codenamed D7 still had quite a few obvious flaws.
He jumped down from the compartment, his military boots making a crisp sound as they stepped on the gravel ground.
“Mr…. Chief Engineer, I am very satisfied with the power and passability.” Morin pointed to the towering front end while speaking, “But this height… is truly too dangerous.”
“A height of nearly 2.4 meters is simply a moving target on the battlefield, it’s truly too conspicuous…”
This Demag engineer was stunned for a moment, pushed up his glasses, and said somewhat troubledly:
“Lieutenant Colonel, this is also unavoidable… The drive shaft and suspension system under the chassis take up a lot of space, plus to ensure passability, the ground clearance cannot be too low…”
“You are professionals, I believe you can definitely do it!”
Morin interrupted his explanation, smiling at him and continued:
“It would be best if the height could be reduced to under 2 meters… Also, the armor plates of the cab and rear compartment need to be redesigned.”
He walked to the front of the vehicle, tapping his knuckles against that nearly vertical armor.
“This kind of vertical armor has very poor defensive effects when facing the enemy’s armor-piercing shells. I need you to make the armor plates sloped… Even if it’s just a 20-degree slope, it can greatly increase the probability of ricochets and simultaneously improve equivalent thickness.”
While speaking, Morin took out the notebook he carried with him and quickly drew a sketch.
It was the rough outline of the classic WWII half-track vehicle Sd.Kfz. 250.
Although he wasn’t a professional vehicle designer and couldn’t draw detailed engineering blueprints, that iconic wedge-shaped front end and sloped armor layout still made the engineer’s eyes light up.
“This design…” The engineer took the notebook and examined it carefully by the light, “can indeed effectively utilize space, and the sloped surfaces can make the vehicle body look lower…”
“Also, although the open-top design is convenient for soldiers to get on and off and observe, when encountering airburst shells or hand grenade attacks, the people inside are like turtles in a jar.”
Morin pointed to the empty roof and continued:
“I need you to design a detachable canvas roof, or simple anti-grenade netting…”
The engineer listened while frantically recording in his notebook, fine beads of sweat seeping out on his forehead.
Every modification suggestion proposed by this young Lieutenant Colonel hit the vital points directly. He completely didn’t seem like a layman, but rather like an old expert who had been immersed in vehicle manufacturing plants for decades.
“Regarding these improvements, we will go back immediately and make adjustments.” The engineer wiped his sweat. “But Lieutenant Colonel, if we make major modifications according to your requirements, the D7 model’s production line might need to be readjusted. In terms of time…”
“Time is not a problem. What I want is equipment that can bring soldiers back alive, not a pile of iron coffins built just to meet a deadline.” Morin patted the engineer’s shoulder, his face full of a genial smile.
“Moreover, I believe with Demag Company’s strength, this small problem won’t stump you.”
The encouraged engineer straightened his back: “Please rest assured! We will work overtime through the night, striving to come up with a new plan within a week!”
Just then, another young engineer who had been standing nearby without speaking suddenly interjected:
“Um… Lieutenant Colonel Morin, actually regarding the issue of payload and space, we have another new idea while cooperating with Daimler Company…”
The engineer glared at that young man, seemingly blaming him for speaking too much, but Morin was intrigued.
“Oh? No harm… let him tell me about it.”
The young man looked nervously at the engineer. Seeing the latter didn’t continue to stop him, he mustered the courage to say: “We are currently developing a half-track vehicle based on a larger chassis, codenamed… tentatively D9.”
“D9?” Morin raised an eyebrow.
“Yes, its design payload is between 8.5 to 9 tons.”
The young man became more excited as he spoke, gesturing with his hands in the air.
“It uses a more powerful radiant crystal internal combustion engine, and the vehicle body is also longer and wider… If the R&D is successful, it not only can carry 10 fully armed soldiers, but can even directly tow a 105mm howitzer at the rear!”
Morin’s eyebrows twitched uncontrollably.
8.5-9 ton class, can carry a squad, and can tow a 105mm gun… Isn’t this exactly the complete form of the Sd.Kfz. 7 or late-model 251 in the other world?
And with this payload capacity, one could completely consider mounting Krupp’s new 50mm gun on it as well, turning it into some kind of early “Armored Knight Destroyer”…
If the D7 model before him was just a runnable light multi-purpose half-track personnel carrier, then this D9 model was the true core vehicle for armored assault troops!
“What stage is this project at?” Morin suppressed his inner excitement and asked in a low voice.
“Still in the chassis testing phase…” The engineer took over the conversation, saying somewhat embarrassedly, “Because the technical difficulty is relatively large, especially the reliability of the transmission system has always been a big problem, so we originally didn’t plan to report this to you so early.”
“No matter what difficulties are encountered, this project must be pushed forward!” Morin said resolutely. “Even if it requires more funding, or requires me to speak up for you at the Ministry of War or with His Highness the Crown Prince, it’s no problem.”
He turned around, looking at this D7 model half-track vehicle before him that, although ugly, represented the future, a fanatical light flashing in his eyes.
“Use the D7 model to solve the problem of whether we have it or not first, at least let the instruction unit be able to equip one battalion first, let us get moving first, and then put all efforts into tackling the D9 model…”
When Morin finished his inspection of the vehicle and returned to his room at the station, it was already late at night.
But he felt no sleepiness.
He stood before the map for a long time, his gaze falling on the fragmented terrain of the Balkan Peninsula.
With half-track vehicles, plus the already developed 50mm anti-tank gun, and future aerial assaults…
This instruction unit in his hands was gradually transforming from an elite light infantry unit into a monster armed to the teeth.
A monster sufficient to shred the defense lines of any old-style army of this era.