Chapter 23: The Bopu Fortress Zone

Lin Shenhe raised his binoculars and looked at the small boats swaying in the distance. When the gun’s elevation was increased to 10 degrees, the splashdown point of the shells was not far from the five-kilometer ranging boat. This was with black powder; if they could use a propellant mixture of nitrocellulose and nitroglycerin, the range would probably be even greater.

“It’s a pity the fire control is so poor,” Li Yunxing sighed with regret. With visual aiming and firing tables, hitting a moving point target at this distance would require a lot of luck to achieve a 5% hit rate. The biggest contradiction the weapons research institute faced with artillery was that the cannons they could build had a range far exceeding their fire control capabilities.

“Let’s add a scope to the cannon,” Bai Yu joked.

“I’d love to, but we don’t have a suitable scope. It would be great if the industrial department could produce optical glass, then we could make direct-fire sights.”

“That’s impossible for the next few years. We’ll have to rely on calculations. If we can get the firing tables and solution equations right and have the gunners memorize them, it will be useful.”

“But this cannon is really something!” Wang Ruixiang said, lovingly caressing the polished, gleaming cast steel cannon. “It’s so thick!”

“The Planning Committee only allowed us to cast two of these 150mm cannons,” Lin Shenhe said with some regret. “To defend all of Bopu, two is really not enough. We’ll have to cast more smoothbore guns.”

“I think it’s better to cast fewer. Making too many different types of cannons is a waste. We can’t be satisfied with this elementary level,” Bai Yu said. He had formally studied weapons manufacturing and lacked enthusiasm for these old-fashioned cannons.

“You’re right, but we still have too few cannons. To fortify Bopu, these few cannons are not enough,” Ying Yu shook his head. As the artillery commander, he was a cross-service officer. Artillerymen from both the army and navy trained in his artillery company, and he was responsible for the firepower arrangement of the Bopu fortification project. “Including these two, we only have six large cannons that can be installed in the fortress zone. What good is that?”

“Casting new cannons isn’t difficult, but we should standardize them. It’s too random now, and the standards are a bit chaotic. We have some designated by caliber and others by shell weight. It’s too difficult to stockpile ammunition,” Li Yunxing proposed.

“Of course, we should equip everyone with rifled cannons,” Ying Yu looked down on smoothbore guns. “The army can use a copy of the Japanese Type 92 infantry gun plus mortars. The navy can use 70mm or 100mm breech-loading rifled cannons.”

Lin Shenhe found a clean rock and sat down. “With our current industrial capacity, let’s take it one step at a time. For the new army’s artillery, it should be smoothbore for now. The army needs a large number of cannons and uses them frequently. Our current materials are a bit lacking, and our ammunition manufacturing capacity is weak. Smoothbore guns are not demanding on these things and are simple to manufacture. We won’t feel too bad if we lose one. We can classify them by the traditional shell weight. I think 6-pounder and 12-pounder cannons, plus 12-pounder mountain howitzers and 24-pounder howitzers, these four types should be enough.”

“No need for mortars?”

“The 24-pounder howitzer is basically that,” Lin Shenhe said. “As for the large cannons needed for sieges, those are special types and not included in standard equipment.”

Wang Ruixiang remembered the infantry’s great weapon: “Speaking of mortars, we could use mortars.”

Lin Shenhe said, “The technology isn’t difficult, but the main problem is the ammunition—the fuze, the fuze. Without a reliable fuze, it’s better not to mess with it.”

Lin Shenhe continued, “As for the navy, breech-loading rifled cannons, or at least rifled cannons, are the trend. The industrial department can only provide a small number of warships, and it’s not easy to train qualified sailors. Both the ships and the men are precious, so we should use long-range, high-damage rifled cannons as much as possible. At the very least, we can protect ourselves if we encounter a strong enemy.”

“I agree with that. Equipment should be based on our industrial capacity and the enemy’s level. There’s no need to be too far ahead. Being too far ahead uses up a lot of resources and affects industrial upgrading,” Li Yunxing said.

“Let’s go back to the command post.”

The group descended from the gun emplacement and returned to the fortress command post. The newly completed command post was located at the top of the Pujiao beacon tower, in the same location as the heavy artillery battery. This man-made hill, over 25 meters high with a 45-degree slope, was transformed into the main support point of the entire Bopu fortress zone. In addition to the original observation post and searchlight, a fortress command post, soldiers’ barracks, an ammunition depot, and many other buildings were added.

To transport the numerous building materials and heavy cannons up the beacon tower, the construction company dug a winch-powered slideway on the slope. An electric winch pulled a cargo bucket to the top, completely solving the transportation problem. This slideway was later expanded into a covered, concealed tunnel. Besides transporting personnel and materials, the previously exposed and vulnerable telephone and power lines were moved inside the tunnel.

A barbed wire fence was erected around the top platform, and trenches were dug. The navy stationed a marine platoon here, including an artillery squad and two infantry squads.

The Bopu camp at the foot of the beacon tower was reinforced, including upgrading all the simple wooden watchtowers to brick and stone blockhouses. The machine department cast a batch of 12-pounder howitzers for these blockhouses. They were mounted on old-style naval gun carriages, using a block and tackle system to absorb the recoil. They mainly fired canister shot, essentially serving as machine guns.

Next to the pier leading to the Fengcheng, a four-story brick and cement gun tower was added, mounting a 32-pounder cannon and a 12-pounder mountain howitzer. A platoon was permanently stationed at the tower.

Finally, there was the Fengcheng itself. Its towering hull in the harbor served a similar function to the Bopu beacon tower. The ship itself had multiple searchlights. It was very suitable as a gun platform. Moreover, the Fengcheng was extremely valuable in itself, so adding cannons to it served two purposes. The other 150mm cannon was installed on the foredeck of the Fengcheng—both used Lin Shenhe’s newly developed recoil-absorbing device, and the cannons could be rotated by manpower.

To strengthen the protection of the Fengcheng itself, the Executive Committee issued a special “Fengcheng Management Regulation.” All unused cabins had to be locked, and all portholes, except those that needed to be opened periodically for ventilation, were to be closed and locked. All movable tools, furniture, and parts on the ship were to be registered and could not be used without authorization. The gangway had to be raised every day before dark.

In addition to these support points, a gun battery and a navigation beacon were built on Cape Lingao—a battery had been built here during the Self-Strengthening Movement in the Qing dynasty.

“We can also make a batch of naval mines to block the dead zones of fire. Then the harbor area will be impregnable,” Li Yunxing said. “For safety, it’s best to use command-detonated electric mines.”

“The wires, the wires,” Lin Shenhe said. “Electric wire is a first-class material. If you use it to make mines, Director Ma will skin you alive.”

“No way, aren’t they already trial-producing electric wires?” Li Yunxing was in the Lingao telecommunications department and had seen this news in the internal bulletin from the Industry and Energy Committee.

“Are you comfortable with enameled wire soaking in seawater?”

“Enameled wire?” Li Yunxing was greatly disappointed. But on second thought, it made sense. The insulation materials for modern telecommunications were either plastic or rubber, neither of which was available here and now, and they couldn’t be created out of thin air.

Lin Shenhe said, “It should be possible to make fixed anchored mines.”

Anchored mines themselves didn’t require much technology. From the perspective of the transmigrator industry, the mine casing could be cast, and it could be filled with black powder—the explosive force of 30kg of black powder was enough to destroy any ship of this era. A certain amount of empty space would be left in the casing for buoyancy. The mooring chain could be made of iron. If that wasn’t possible, a sturdy cable with an iron anchor could also fix it to the seabed.

The fuze was a bit more difficult. To ensure effective impact, an anchored mine needed multiple fuzes. They had to be cheap, readily available, and reliable. The weapons team decided to tackle the manufacturing of anchored mines after they finished the artillery production work.

“Honestly, unless the situation is critical, it’s better not to lay anchored mines. They cause endless trouble,” said Chen Haiyang, who was looking at the defense plan with them in the command post. “Once you lay these things, they go missing, and once they’re missing, you can’t find them. Clearing them is troublesome and laborious, and not very effective.”

He sighed. “And these mines are particularly durable. A ship can hit a mine from fifty or sixty years ago and it will still explode. They’re still constantly sweeping for mines in the Yangtze River estuary—remnants of mines laid by the KMT during the war of resistance.”

“I guarantee that the mines we make won’t last fifty or sixty years. They’ll definitely be useless in a few years at most,” Lin Shenhe joked.

As they were discussing the defense plan, a sentry reported that Li Haiping had arrived.

Chen Haiyang frowned as he looked at the application Li Haiping had brought. Although it was almost certain that the Executive Committee would meet with Li Huamei, he couldn’t respond to the promises made by the lower-ranking officers.

“Guns are out of the question,” Chen Haiyang said. “Not only do I not have the authority, but the matter of giving firearms to the natives has to be discussed by the entire Executive Committee. Your promise is out of line.”

Li Haiping said anxiously, “She’s training sailors for us. We have to give her some benefits.”

“There are many kinds of benefits. Why do you have to focus on guns?” Chen Haiyang said. “I can’t make the decision on this. I’ll report it for you at the meeting. The decision is up to the Executive Committee.”

“Isn’t that too bureaucratic? We’re in dire need of friends right now! A tour of the Fengcheng should be fine, right? No going into the cabins, just a walk on the deck.”

“Whether she’s a friend or not is not for the navy to decide. And as for your request to take her on a tour of the Fengcheng, that also needs the Executive Committee’s approval.”

“Damn it, what is this—”

Just then, the phone rang. Chen Haiyang picked it up, said “yes” a few times, and then repeated Li Haiping’s request.

“Yes, it seems that Li Huamei’s attitude has changed, so—huh? Yes, yes, alright. I understand!” He hung up the phone and said to Li Haiping:

“You’re in luck. The Executive Committee has agreed to let you take her on a tour of the ship. No going into the cabins! The Executive Committee has a task for her to cooperate with.”