The Secret of a Strong Military

Smith was still a little dazed.

Everything before him seemed so unreal that, for a moment, Smith thought he was in a long dream, although he had secretly hoped for something like this…

However, that feeling passed quickly. Soon, Smith snapped back to reality, once again aware of his small body and the complex smell of gun oil and gunpowder drifting through the temporary display area.

"Unlock the bolt, cock the firing pin... metal fixed cartridges... long-caliber bullet... 530 meters per second muzzle velocity..." Smith fixed his gaze on a new-style Dreyse 1862 rifle leaning against the table, silently counting all the advanced features it possessed, features so revolutionary that they could be considered groundbreaking. He marveled that this world had already surpassed his original one in rifle technology, almost creating a generational gap.

"Is this really something achievable in 1862?" Smith thought to himself.

But upon closer reflection, while the rifle did appear to have many advanced features, these elements were not entirely impossible to realize given the technological foundations of 1862.

Take the design of "unlocking the bolt and cocking the firing pin," for example. On the original Dreyse 1841 needle-fire rifle, the design required manipulating the needle tube after unlocking and locking the bolt, which had been criticized by many users. Even Dreyse himself was dissatisfied with this design. As early as the 1830s, he had attempted to find a more convenient operating design, but in order to simplify the operation, the length of the firing pin needed to be shortened. However, due to the limitations of paper cartridge technology, no matter how hard Dreyse tried, he could not find a solution.

The breakthrough, in fact, came with the metal fixed cartridge. In other words, with the engineers' ingenuity, after equipping the rifle with a metal fixed cartridge, designing the "unlocking the bolt and cocking the firing pin" mechanism was not that difficult.

Although the metal fixed cartridge was still a new thing in 1862, it was by no means unprecedented. Both in Europe and across the ocean in America, many ammunition designers were exploring such designs. If we broaden our perspective, Paul Mauser's metal fixed cartridge design, though innovative, was ultimately just one of many waves in the metal cartridge trend.

—This is the subtle and inseparable connection between "personal struggle" and "the course of history"!

The bullet design was also striking, but the seemingly futuristic concept of the shell-less bullet was essentially just an optimization of the Dreyse 1841 paper cartridge. The two-part bullet shell was indeed a brilliant touch, but it was not something that would have been easy to imagine. As for the larger length-to-diameter ratio of the bullet, it had even deeper historical roots.

Because Smith had studied in Germany before crossing over, he had the privilege of meeting a weapon collector from Aubendorf. On one occasion, when visiting the collector's home, the elderly gentleman, who was over fifty, showed him a bullet used by hunters in the 17th century German region.

Smith vaguely remembered that this bullet was not the usual round lead type. It had a long shape, even close to a spindle form. According to the collector, this lead bullet was used by hunters to hunt large game. Upon impact, the bullet would deform or even shatter, increasing its lethality. If what the collector said was true, it would mean that by the 17th century, people had already recognized the contribution of bullet deformation to lethality. Considering that the Mauser family lived in Aubendorf, could it be that, by some chance, Paul Mauser and his father had witnessed such ammunition and this inspired Paul Mauser's bullet design?

As for the 530 meters per second muzzle velocity, it was certainly an astonishing feature for a military rifle of this period. However, even in the flintlock rifle era, some small-caliber hunting rifles designed for agile, quick-moving animals had already achieved such muzzle velocities with heavy powder charges. Of course, these weapons were primarily playthings for the nobility and were not meant for battle, but who could say that such ideas couldn't provide inspiration? Moreover, the new metal fixed cartridge featured a bullet with a diameter of only 8.3 millimeters, which was certainly intriguing.

Looking at it this way, these advanced performance indicators, while initially surprising, seemed entirely reasonable once one understood the technological development background. Achieving these performance levels was undoubtedly a result of technological progress, but as Smith thought more about it, he felt that it was less of a technological revolution and more of a revolution in design philosophy!

However, revolutions in design philosophy never occur out of thin air. As people often say, first comes the accumulation of quantity, and only then can there be a qualitative leap. With this in mind, Smith looked toward Paul Mauser, who was having a lively conversation with the Junkers nearby.

Indeed, compared to any previous weapon, the new Dreyse 1862 represented a qualitative leap. Before this, the Dreyse 1841 needle-fire rifle had clearly been part of the "quantitative accumulation" — even though this rifle itself had already achieved a qualitative change compared to earlier models. Moreover, considering that the long-caliber bullet and high muzzle velocity were characteristics typical of hunting rifles, and knowing that old Mauser had rich experience in making hunting rifles and hunting ammunition, it was clear that Mauser's work had also been part of the "quantitative accumulation" before Paul Mauser's "qualitative leap"!

"Well... it seems that when Paul Mauser said his father gave him many insights, it probably wasn't just modesty..."

Having figured this out, Smith felt somewhat relieved. However, another question that had been lingering in his mind resurfaced: Why was it that Prussia, a country not the most technologically advanced nor the wealthiest, was the first to equip large numbers of breech-loading rifles, breech-loading steel cannons, and rapid-fire machine guns, and used this as an opportunity to reform its tactics, becoming the first to complete the military revolution of the 19th century?

Though Smith hadn't considered himself a military enthusiast before his time-travel, his intense study of the materials left behind by "Smiling Willi" had significantly improved his understanding of military matters. Coupled with his previous reflections on other issues, which led to some insightful connections, Smith was now starting to feel that he was on the verge of uncovering the answer to the problem.

"Are you sure you're not joking with me?"

Just as Smith was trying to break through the fog and grasp the answer, King Wilhelm's voice interrupted his thoughts. Smith turned toward the sound, only to see King Wilhelm holding an old-style Dreyse 1841 needle rifle in one hand and a new-style Dreyse 1862 in the other, his eyes wide open in disbelief, staring at the Dreyse and exclaiming:

"How could the performance improve so much, and the new rifle is still four marks cheaper than the 1841?!"

"Of course, I'm not joking," Although Dreyse had his back to Smith, preventing him from seeing his facial expression, Smith could still detect a hint of pride behind his serious tone. "Perhaps you still remember, in my small workshop, I insisted on using cast steel for all the gun barrels!"

King Wilhelm seemed puzzled, but Smith understood exactly what Dreyse meant. "Using cast steel for all the gun barrels" might sound simple, but it was a significant breakthrough in the development of firearms. Dreyse continued to explain:

"The most difficult part of making a firearm is the barrel. Traditionally, to make a barrel, we had to forge a steel sheet into a tube. To strengthen it, we often used a nested process, where a thinner pipe was used as the inner barrel and a thicker one as the outer, then heated and hammered the inner pipe into the outer one. Afterward, we had to straighten and polish the inner bore, process the outer tube, and finally use a cutting tool to form the rifling. This process is time-consuming and labor-intensive, requiring either manual labor or mechanically driven machines. Therefore, barrels are expensive, and the longer the barrel, the more expensive it becomes, as it requires high skill. If any part of the process is off, the entire barrel must be discarded. This is the same technique used since the matchlock era, and our Dreyse 1841 needle rifle barrels were made with this process!"

Seeing the expressions of King Wilhelm and the other Junkers, it seemed they were familiar with what Dreyse was explaining. But then Dreyse's next words opened their eyes:

"However, now we have developed a new method for manufacturing barrels that will completely send the old technique to the museum! Thanks to the high-quality cast steel provided by Krupp, we can now cast the barrel blanks, then use a steam-powered deep-hole drilling machine to bore the inner bore, and finish the rifling and outer surface with steam-powered lathes and grinders. This process saves time and labor, and even considering the cost of machines and wear-and-tear, the price of each barrel can be reduced to about 80% of the original, while production speed increases several times!"

With that, Dreyse proudly raised a new Dreyse 1862 rifle, expertly removed the bolt, and pointed to the receiver and bolt, saying:

"Not only are the barrels made of cast steel, but the receiver and action parts of our new rifle are also made from cast steel and machined, greatly increasing production efficiency. Your Majesty, in the past twenty years, my factory could only supply a few thousand Dreyse 1841 rifles to your army each year. Now, with just your command, we can deliver over 10,000 of these latest Dreyse 1862 rifles and ammunition each month!"

King Wilhelm's eyebrows visibly raised, and many other Junkers with "von" in their names shared similar expressions. Perhaps only Smith noticed, but after the presentation, Albrecht von Roon, who had hardly spoken since the beginning, was now wearing a faint smile.

In a factory producing 10,000 rifles a month, it wouldn't be remarkable in the highly automated 21st century, or even in the early 20th century during World War I. But in 1862, this was a completely different story.

Smith knew that Dreyse's arms factory was located in his hometown of Sömmerda. It was a historic but small town, largely due to its strategic location during the Thirty Years' War and the Napoleonic Wars. Whenever large-scale wars broke out, the town would be impacted by military conflicts.

When Nicholas Dreyse was born, the area was still under the jurisdiction of the Archbishopric of Mainz, only becoming part of Prussia after the Napoleonic Wars. It was no surprise that Dreyse rarely considered himself a Prussian, but since the area came under Prussian control, the town of Sömmerda enjoyed the longest period of peace in its history.

Although Prussia brought peace to Sömmerda, the town's modernization was largely due to Dreyse's arms factory. If history hadn't deviated much, Dreyse's factory should now employ nearly 7,000 workers, making up about a third of the town's male workforce. In this era, a factory with 7,000 employees producing 10,000 rifles and ammunition per month was an astonishing feat!

"Well done, Mr. Dreyse! Well done!" King Wilhelm patted Dreyse on the shoulder, as if praising an old friend of many years. "Prepare for your factory to get busy! My army is expanding, and I want them to have these new rifles as soon as possible!"

"As you wish, Your Majesty!"

By now, the weapons demonstration was nearing its end, but Smith's questions still hadn't been answered. On the carriage back to the Prince's Palace, Smith gently touched the Dreyse 1862 rifle beside him, still pondering the problem.

"Do you like rifles?" came Frederick's voice from beside him, filled with curiosity, affection, and care.

"Ah, Father..." Smith instinctively responded, and suddenly a thought flashed in his mind.

Why not ask the person involved? After all, Frederick wasn't just an excellent cavalry officer; he was also a rare military genius with a unique understanding of military matters and exceptional command skills. In just four years, he would lead an army to deliver a textbook-perfect pincer movement with his father, crushing the Austrian army, which had an overwhelming numerical advantage. In another four years, he would command an army across France, reaching the gates of Paris.

"I was just thinking," Smith gathered his thoughts, "Although the Dreyse 1841 rifle has some flaws, its rate of fire and accuracy are far superior to other front-loading smoothbore rifles of its time. Why is it that the British, Swiss, Austrians, and French all look down on it, while only our Prussian army uses this weapon? Don't they know how revolutionary it could be?"

"Hmm... so you're thinking about this..." Frederick was surprised. He had initially thought that Smith's interest in the rifle was just childlike curiosity, but he hadn't expected his son to be contemplating such profound questions. Frederick himself had thought about it too, but he wasn't sure if his thoughts were correct.

"Come here, my little genius," Frederick said, lifting his son and grabbing the rifle, lowering his head and speaking gently. "I can't say I've figured this out completely, but let me share my thoughts."

Smith adopted a listening posture, as if eager to hear every word. 

"The army," Frederick said, emphasizing the word as he shook the rifle in his hand, "is the most conservative group in the world—if not the most conservative, at least one of the most conservative." 

Smith was taken aback by this statement. After all, Frederick himself was a soldier, and one of the most open-minded people Smith had met since his arrival in this world. Yet here he was, dismissing the so-called "military honor" and speaking so frankly to Smith, something Smith had not expected.

Frederick continued with his explanation: 

"Because the military is a group that heavily relies on experience. Without experience, they don't know what to do. That's why you'll always find young soldiers or low-ranking officers in their teens or twenties, while generals are often old, bearded men, like me."

As he said this, Frederick stroked his thick, bushy beard, his expression comically exaggerated, which made Smith chuckle involuntarily. 

Then Frederick became serious again: 

"And experience comes from the past, which may already be outdated. Yet people often mistake it for unshakable truth. For those who trust experience, when something entirely new is presented to them, their first reaction isn't curiosity, but rejection and skepticism. It's too new, and they can't find a corresponding example in their experience! Not to mention the intricate web of vested interests accumulated over the years, which makes it hard to look forward. The military is like this."

Frederick had already softened his words as much as possible, but Smith could still sense a subtle disdain behind his careful phrasing. Frederick went on:

"The British, French, Austrian, and Swiss armies are all like this. They don't fail to see the innovation in Mr. Dreiser's invention, but due to their conservative instincts, they prefer to view it with suspicion."

"What about our army?" Smith asked, still somewhat confused. "Isn't our army conservative too?"

"Of course!" Frederick laughed heartily. "Our army is just as conservative. There's not much difference from the armies of other countries. Let me give you an example! After we decided to adopt the Dreiser needle rifle, there was this old guy who insisted on opposing it. He said, 'Oh, damn it! I don't want to see those "sausage guns"! The sound of those guns annoys me! If I die one day, at my funeral, I want to be shot with a muzzleloader! If I hear one "sausage gun" shot, I'll crawl out of my coffin and kick that bastard's ass! I'll do it!' — He really said that, and I was there when he said it."

Frederick mimicked the old man's words in a dramatically exaggerated tone, puffing up his cheeks and bulging his eyes, almost like a slapstick actor. Smith had never known his father had such a flair for theatrics, and he couldn't help but burst into laughter.

"So what happened next?" After laughing for a while, Smith asked, eager to know more.

"Well, he died," Frederick said with a mischievous grin. "At his funeral, we all fired the Dreiser rifle a dozen times, but he didn't pop out of his coffin to kick our asses. Seems like he wasn't so true to his word after all!"

Frederick laughed heartily for a long while before waving his hand dismissively. 

"But that old guy was right about one thing. Some people do need to be 'kicked in the ass,' and those people are the ones who are stuck in their conservative ways, clinging to experience. Only after being kicked in the ass do they realize they need to move forward, to look ahead!"

Smith felt as if something had become clearer in his mind. He listened as Frederick continued:

"Like I said before, our army isn't free from conservatism. In fact, it's quite traditional. Before the Napoleonic Wars, our army thought that just following Frederick the Great's tactics would be enough to defeat the French. But they ignored the fact that it was precisely Frederick the Great's innovations in military technology and tactics that allowed his army to maneuver skillfully between the forces of three European powers. Twenty years after Frederick the Great's death, we were utterly defeated at Jena. Yes, Napoleon ultimately failed, but any clear-headed general knows that we didn't win that battle. If we continue to be this conservative, then last time it was Napoleon who kicked our asses, and next time, who knows who will be the one to do it?"

"So what you're saying is that crisis and failure forced us to explore forward?" Smith tried to summarize Frederick's words.

"Exactly," Frederick nodded approvingly. "Other countries may have the luxury of being conservative, resting on their laurels. We don't have that luxury. We are surrounded by major European powers, and a single failure could mean the end of our nation. This constant crisis forces us to move forward, to keep advancing! If we stop or fall behind, there's a real risk of destruction!"

Smith was a bit stunned. He had never imagined that his father would have such insights and a sense of crisis. For him, coming from the future, he had only been able to understand the Prussian-led German unification movement through books, feeling the spirit of the nation through the written word. Yet, this profound sense of crisis and concern seemed to have been deliberately or unintentionally concealed.

"But how do we find the right direction to move forward? What if the direction is wrong?" The question arose so naturally that Smith almost asked it without thinking.

"The all-powerful genius, or the superman, will guide us in the right direction," Frederick said, delivering a statement that shocked Smith. However, after a moment's reflection, Smith realized that perhaps it was only natural for Frederick to say such a thing. After all, Germany was the birthplace of the philosophy of the superman, and Prussia could not be an exception.

"A genius like Frederick the Great can clear away the fog and touch the essence of things. Such a person can lead us in the right direction," Frederick continued, unaware of Smith's shift in thoughts. He was still speaking to himself:

"But geniuses like Frederick the Great are not something every generation is lucky enough to encounter. It may take one or two hundred years before another Frederick the Great arises. In times without an all-powerful genius, we need scientific guidance—though such geniuses are rare, there are many specialized talents in certain fields, especially in our country. Since the time of the Great Elector, the Prussian kings have been using education to cultivate the wisdom of the people and science to arm their minds. During Frederick the Great's era, they implemented universal compulsory education. Now, Prussia has tens of millions of citizens with basic scientific literacy. This is the soil for nurturing excellent specialists. If we unite hundreds or thousands of these specialists, they can form invisible Frederick the Greats to guide us forward!"

At this point, Smith could clearly sense that Frederick was becoming emotional. His body trembled slightly, and his voice grew loud and powerful:

"In the military, these excellent specialists will form our General Staff. Politically, these specialists should form the parliament to guide our national policies. Unfortunately, so far, we have only completed the former. The latter is still far from being achieved!"

In that moment, Smith understood the philosophical roots of Frederick's clearly liberal stance and gained a deeper understanding of the apparent contradictions in his father's views.

But now was clearly not the time to discuss those matters.

"Father, I think I understand," Smith spoke again, deciding to bring the conversation back to the previous question. "Can I say that only a country with a clear sense of crisis, guided by tangible or intangible super-geniuses, and with citizens possessing scientific literacy, can initiate and lead a new military revolution? And once a military revolution is completed, the army will become an invincible force?"

"Military revolution?" Frederick pondered the term. "Yes, that's right—a military revolution. You're right. Only such a country can initiate and lead a new military revolution and build an invincible army! What we are doing now is, after all, such a revolution, isn't it?"

After a long pause, Frederick looked out the carriage window. Not far in front of his own carriage was the carriage of his father, King William. His gaze lingered there, and he spoke to Smith:

"But don't use the word 'revolution' around your grandfather. He doesn't like the word 'revolution.'"

Then, in a voice barely audible to anyone but himself, he added:

"It would scare him. Who knows, it might even send him running back to London..."