World War: Battleship Arms Dealers

Chapter 37 will not be described in detail about the future of large-scale infrastructure; it will o

The hoisting operation resumed. This time, the two cranes lifted the turret to the designated height at a slower but smoother pace, then moved it horizontally to align it with the base.

"Descend! Slowly, slowly, good!"

The turret was placed steadily on the base, and the fixing bolts were inserted into the reserved holes, fitting perfectly.

"Installation complete!" Old Zhao's voice echoed throughout the dock through the loudspeaker.

Cheers erupted. The workers hugged and high-fived each other, and some even shed tears.

Chen Feng breathed a sigh of relief, only then realizing that his palms were covered in sweat.

Liu Yongfu walked to his side and said softly, "Commander-in-Chief, these two incidents today have exposed our problems with aging equipment and worker fatigue. We've been working three shifts a day for three months straight, and everyone's physical strength has reached its limit."

"I know." Chen Feng looked at the tired but excited workers. "Starting tomorrow, adjust the shift schedule. Mandatory one-day-off for every six days of work, and guarantee eight hours of sleep every day. Improve the food standards again, ensuring meat and eggs every day."

"The construction period..."

"The construction period can be extended appropriately, but the quality must not be compromised." Chen Feng said firmly, "Let everyone know: We are not building ships for the Germans, we are not building ships for money. We are building ships for the future of Lanfang. Once the ships are built, they must be able to sail out, fight, and protect 300,000 compatriots."

He paused for a moment, then said, "So, it's better to go slower than to do something better."

Liu Yongfu nodded deeply: "I understand."

As the sun sets, the lights in the dock come on one by one.

The outline of the "Fuxing" gradually became clear in the lights, with its streamlined hull, towering bridge, and huge turrets... It was no longer just a pile of steel; it had begun to have the soul of a warship.

Chen Feng stood by the dock and watched for a long time.

Three months left.

Three months from now, this steel behemoth will be launched into the water.

What will the world see then?

Where will Lanfang go next?

He didn't know the answer.

But he knew that no matter what lay ahead, these people—these Chinese artisans with oil-stained hands, sweat-soaked faces, and dreams in their hearts—would walk with him on this journey.

They traveled to Southeast Asia and then returned to their hometown.

The day will come when Chinese people can stand tall and proud.

A railway construction site located 15 kilometers from Dubai Port.

Yellow sand filled the sky, and the sun blazed overhead. Thousands of workers were laying railway tracks, their shouts, hammer blows, and the roar of steam engines mingling together and echoing across the vast desert.

Standing on the makeshift command platform, holding construction drawings, Zhou Nian gave instructions to the section chiefs around him:

"Section 1, 500 meters of sleepers must be laid today. Section 2, the rail connection is slow, send two teams to assist. Section 3, the sand and gravel supply is not keeping up, notify the transport team to send ten more trucks."

"Minister Zhou, water! The workers aren't getting enough water!" A young technician ran over to report. "The temperature is 42 degrees Celsius today, and three people have already been hospitalized for heatstroke."

"Notify logistics to send a water truck over immediately. Ensure each person receives eight liters of drinking water daily, with added salt," Zhou Nian quickly ordered. "Also, adjust work hours: start at 5:00 AM, rest from 11:00 AM to 3:00 PM, and work until 8:00 PM. Avoid the hottest times."

"But the construction period..."

"The construction schedule is important, but human life is even more important," Zhou Nian said solemnly. "Tell all the section chiefs: whoever causes workers to suffer from heatstroke in order to meet the deadline, I will dismiss them."

The technician hurriedly ran off to relay the order.

Zhou Nian wiped the sweat from his brow, stepped down from the command platform, and walked along the newly paved roadbed. The gravel under his feet was still hot, and the air was filled with the smell of asphalt and steel.

This was the biggest and most difficult project of his career—building a 60-kilometer-long railway in the desert, connecting ports, industrial areas, and inland mining areas.

There was no readily available experience, not enough equipment, and even a lack of qualified skilled workers.

But they have to do it.

Chen Feng said, "Railways are the lifeblood of industry. Without railways, ore cannot be transported out, products cannot be shipped out, and Lanfang would remain an isolated island."

"Minister Zhou!"

Someone called his name again. Zhou Nian turned around and saw Elder Wu from the Materials Department running towards him anxiously.

"Oh no! The batch of cement shipped from Basra got damp during sea transport, and 30% of it has clumped together and is unusable!"

Anniversary's heart sank. Cement is a key material in railway construction, especially for bridges and culverts.

How much inventory is left?

"It's only enough for three days. The next batch will have to be shipped from India, and it will take at least ten days to arrive."

Ten days. This means that railway construction will be suspended for a week.

Zhou Nian quickly thought: "Notify the technical team to revise the bridge design and replace part of the concrete structure with stone masonry. We have quarries along the route, so we can get the stone locally."

"Stone masonry? Is it strong enough?"

"That's enough. My father built many of the bridges on the Yunnan-Vietnam Railway, and they've stood for a hundred years." Zhou Nian paused. "Of course, we'll still use concrete for the critical parts. We'll concentrate our cement reserves and prioritize the three key bridges."

"Understood, I'll take care of it right away."

Old Wu had just left when someone else arrived. This time it was the head of the security department.

"Minister Zhou, the No. 2 tunnel has encountered a layer of quicksand, posing a significant risk of collapse. Conventional practice necessitates the use of sheet piles for support, but we don't have enough sheet piles."

Zhou Nian took the report and looked at it: "Use timber for support. How much hardwood do we have left in stock from Sumatra?"

"Is 500 cubic meters enough?"

"Send 300 cubic meters over first, and I'll contact Minister Wang immediately to have him urgently procure another 1,000 cubic meters," Zhou Nian marked on the map. "Also, slow down the tunneling speed to no more than two meters per day. Safety first."

"Yes."

After dealing with one problem after another, Zhou Nian was parched. He returned to his command tent, took several large gulps of water from his canteen, and then spread out the overall construction plans.

On the blueprints, red lines represent completed railways, blue lines represent those under construction, and black lines represent those yet to be started.

Now, the red line is less than ten kilometers long.

There are still fifty kilometers to conquer.

Three more bridges need to be built.

Two more tunnels need to be built.

There are still countless technical challenges to be solved.

Zhou Nian rubbed his temples. He was forty-five years old and had built more than a dozen railways in Southeast Asia and China, but he had never felt so much pressure as he had this time.

It's not just because of the tight schedule and poor conditions.

More importantly, this railway carries the hopes of 300,000 people.

"Minister Zhou, dinner is ready."

The assistant brought in a lunchbox containing simple rice, vegetables, and a few slices of salted fish.

After taking a few bites, Zhou Nian suddenly asked, "Xiao Zhang, do you think it's worth it for us to work so hard?"

The assistant paused for a moment, then said seriously, "It's worth it. My father said that back in Borneo, the Dutch trains passed right by our house, but they wouldn't let us Chinese ride them. Now, with the railway I'm building, we Chinese can ride it whenever we want and go wherever we want."

Zhou Nian laughed and patted his assistant on the shoulder: "Well said. Go ahead and get busy, I'll go to the construction site after I finish eating."

After the meal, without taking a break, Zhou Nian put on his straw hat and went out of the tent again.

On the construction site, the workers were taking their lunch break. Some were dozing under makeshift shelters, some were chatting together, and others were writing letters—to their families back in Southeast Asia.