Soviet tanks

In the early 20th century, the industrial landscape of the Soviet Union, particularly in the realm of heavy industry, was markedly underdeveloped. The absence of assistance from Western powers like the United States and Britain, coupled with the limited time for its own industrial evolution, left the Soviet Union's industrial capabilities lagging significantly behind. It was against this backdrop that Akado embarked on his mission. His objectives were twofold: firstly, to assess the current state of Soviet industry, and secondly, to explore opportunities to impede the development of Soviet heavy industry—a strategic goal that would prove crucial in the future. For Akado, the easier the conquest of this region, the better.

During this period, the Soviet Union struggled to manufacture its own tanks. Their armored forces primarily consisted of repurposed French Renault light tanks, a modest and tactically outdated fleet when compared to the more formidable German armored units. While visiting a factory that was attempting to replicate these Renault tanks, Akado observed a craftsman manually adjusting tank parts with a file, a process that seemed painfully inefficient. 

"We lack large machine tools, and thus workers must repair tank parts manually. It's a slow and laborious process," explained the young factory head to Akado.

Upon hearing this, Akado, with a strategic smile, assured, "We will disassemble ten machines from the Krupp factory and ship them here secretly—the latest and most sophisticated models!"

The young factory director, overwhelmed with gratitude, extended his greasy hand. "Thank you! German friends, we will never forget your contribution to the Bolshevik cause! My name is Valshilevski, pleased to meet you!"

"Make it twenty," Akado instructed his aide, Geer, after shaking hands with Valshilevski. "Directly from the Bavarian engine factory and the Krupp factory. We will treat our Soviet friends well."

Geer, though puzzled by the decision to provide such advanced machinery to the Soviets, recorded the instructions dutifully, adhering to the professional protocol of not questioning orders.

Varsilevsky, gripped by excitement and with tears in his eyes, could barely contain his emotions. The provision of twenty state-of-the-art machine tools was beyond what he had imagined possible. With such assets, he believed the production speed of Soviet tanks could potentially double.

Lieutenant Colonel Polov, representing the Soviet military, expressed his satisfaction with the Germans' efficiency and generosity. "Lieutenant Colonel Akado, you truly are a friend to the Soviet people! After your visit today, I insist you join us for a drink. How can one be in the Soviet Union and not enjoy vodka, right?"

Polov then presented a document detailing a training location for the National Defense Forces, approximately 220 kilometers southeast of Moscow, in a secluded and secure forest area near Ripatsk. "We've planned to establish a pilot training base here. You're welcome to send people for training as well," Akado responded, appreciating the strategic location.

As the conversation continued, Akado excused himself to use the bathroom, asking Varsilevski to show his colleague, Lieutenant Gore, how the crane operated while he was away. Once inside the bathroom, Akado's demeanor shifted as he cautiously checked each stall to ensure privacy before confronting Varsilevski.

"You brought me here alone. Why?" Akado inquired sharply.

"Your 'beehive' has approached me," Varsilevski confessed, his voice a mix of excitement and urgency. "He said if I wanted revenge, this was my chance. He knew you were coming and instructed me to find a way to meet you alone—that's why I shook your hand three times."

Outside, Varsilevski spoke in German, which Akado understood well. He glanced nervously towards the bathroom door, then responded, "I don't know who among us brought the 'beehive' to the Soviet Union, but I assure you, I didn't bring anything of that sort. What you're suggesting sounds like spy talk, and I honestly have no idea what you mean."

The 'beehive' was indeed a code name for a high-ranking Gestapo spy embedded within Soviet Russia, a critical part of German intelligence operations. However, Akado was cautious not to reveal any acknowledgment of such espionage activities, especially not on foreign soil.

"Tukachevsky sent you? Or was it Polov testing me? I'm here for official Wehrmacht negotiations, not espionage," Akado retorted dismissively.

Varsilevsky, desperate yet discerning, pleaded, "Please believe me, Lieutenant Colonel Akado!"

"If what you're saying is true, which I doubt, you should be talking to the 'beehive,' not me," Akado replied, half-joking. "Be more careful next time."

"I understand, Mr. Lieutenant Colonel," Varsilevsky replied, recognizing the risk he had taken in confronting Akado directly for personal gain and power within the Soviet regime.

Their conversation was abruptly interrupted as Polov entered the bathroom. Akado quickly composed himself, ensuring no evidence of their serious discussion remained. "Director Varsilevsky was just in a hurry," he joked, covering up the tension.

Polov, unsuspecting, laughed off the incident, and the three men exited the bathroom, rejoining the tour as if nothing had occurred. They continued their inspection of the factory, but the atmosphere had undeniably shifted. As they examined an aged blueprint, a young voice suddenly challenged the presence of Germans in this secretive military facility, causing everyone to turn in surprise.

"Comrade Khrushchev! It is the order of Comrade Tukhachevsky to bring our German friends here! What is there to question?" Varsilevsky glanced back at his men, his expression marked by a trace of dissatisfaction. "Even without the help of those capitalists, we are fully capable of producing our own tanks and cannons!" Khrushchev retorted loudly, his voice echoing in the corridor.

Akado, standing a short distance away, watched the exchange with growing astonishment. Was this the famed Nikita Sergeyevich Khrushchev? His mind reeled with the rapid succession of historical figures he had encountered in just a few days. Only two days ago, he had been mere meters from the offices of Lenin and Stalin; yesterday, he sat across from General Tukhachevsky, a renowned military strategist in Soviet history; today, he found himself face-to-face with Khrushchev, a future world leader. And in a few days, he was scheduled to meet another historical giant in Guangzhou. The cast of characters was indeed luxurious, akin to a historical blockbuster.

"Hello, Mr. Khrushchev," Akado began, attempting to smooth over the tension with a diplomatic smile. "No one doubts the wisdom and capabilities of the Soviet people. However, with assistance from Germany, you could save a great deal of time, could you not? Time is a precious commodity for us all."

Khrushchev scoffed, his youthful zeal apparent. At only 29 years old and without the political finesse that would come with later years, his passion for the Bolshevik cause was raw and untempered. "You are mere lapdogs of the capitalists!" he snapped.

Akado bit back his retort, choosing instead to simply smile at the translator, Brook, dismissing the rash young Bolshevik with a glance.

At that moment, Lieutenant Colonel Polov intervened, his tone stern. "Comrade Khrushchev! Silence! Akado is an important guest of Comrades Lenin and Stalin! If you jeopardize our revolutionary cause, what will you say to the people?"

Varsilevsky chimed in, equally severe. "Enough, Khrushchev! Return to your duties and write a self-critique. Submit it to the party organization before you leave work tomorrow. I expect a thorough reflection."

"Let's not scare our guest," Akado interjected, eager to redirect the conversation. "I have a deep appreciation for the Soviet industrial base. However, I have pressing matters to attend to and must depart Moscow by train early tomorrow."

Khrushchev seemed poised to argue further but was quickly escorted away by two colleagues, though not before casting a fierce glare back at Akado.

The following day, Akado departed from the Kremlin and made his way to the Moscow railway station. Settled in a private compartment with Brook, he reviewed the cooperation agreement secured during his visit. His trip had not been in vain; he had secured twelve agreements spanning various sectors, including significant provisions of resources and a joint venture to build railroad tracks from Moscow to Berlin.

While the United Kingdom had some reservations about the Soviet Union gaining a foothold, the prospect of containing Japan's expansion in the Far East and the incidental benefits swayed them to tacitly support the German-Soviet cooperation.

As the train journeyed through the vast Russian landscape, Akado observed the changing scenery and demographics. After a major stop, he noted an increase in passengers of Asian descent, and the conversations around him shifted to Chinese.

Brook, returning to his seat, informed him, "Sir, we have entered China."

A figure approached, and Brook introduced him as a key representative of the Chinese government and special advisor to Mr. Sun Yat-sen, Mr. Jiang Jieshi.

"Long have I admired your great name," Akado greeted in Chinese, surprising Jiang with his fluency.

Jiang responded with a warm handshake. "I didn't expect Mr. Akado to speak Chinese so well. Welcome to China, Colonel."

Switching back to German, Akado demurred, "I merely glanced at a dictionary. The words are few and learned in haste."

Jiang, leading Akado to a reception room, expressed his gratitude for the support. "Germany's willingness to aid the Kuomintang and provide crucial arms is invaluable. Might we negotiate a better price, though?"

"After considering the mutual benefits, I can offer an additional 10% discount," Akado replied after a moment. "However, the confidential costs must remain as agreed. You understand the demands of my schedule."

Jiang smiled, appreciating the gesture. "You are most generous, Lieutenant Colonel. This visit will surely be fruitful for us both."

Their discussions concluded with the promise of financial transactions and further collaborations aimed at curbing Japanese influence in the region.

Reflecting on his encounters—from Khrushchev to Jiang Jieshi—Akado felt a profound sense of accomplishment. His journey had not only solidified significant arms deals but had also positioned him at the crossroads of pivotal historical interactions.

As he boarded a steamer bound for India, en route to the Mediterranean and then back to Germany, Akado contemplated the intricate web of international politics he had navigated. His actions, though discreet, were set to influence the global stage profoundly.

Indeed, as the train had carried him across borders, so too had his dealings carried the potential to reshape alliances and conflicts across continents. The year 1922 was just beginning, and the seeds of change had already been sown.