**Chapter 850: Aiding the Soviet Union (7)**

Colonel General Manstein, Chief of Staff of Army Group South, had considerable confidence in Rommel's assault capabilities. Seeing Rommel express his willingness to undertake the strike mission, Manstein expected Reichenau to outline an operational program. However, he waited in vain for Reichenau to speak, which left him somewhat surprised.

Reichenau himself felt that he was indeed too distracted at that moment. He pointed to the Volga River on the map and said, "After breaking through the Soviet defenses on the Volga, your assault will be covered by the Luftwaffe."

Rommel asked bluntly, "Field Marshal, when do you expect the breakthrough to be completed?"

Reichenau did not answer directly but ordered, "Your unit will serve as the strategic reserve. Withdraw from combat now and begin preparations."

Rommel was currently the commander of the 21st Panzer Corps. The corps had just completed the task of repelling two Soviet Red Army corps from the north. Panzers were not suited for urban combat, and Rommel himself had no desire to enter the city. With Reichenau's order, he was quite elated. His troops had been fighting for four months since May 21st; being designated as the strategic reserve meant they could receive an ample period of refit and rest.

"I will begin preparations immediately," Rommel accepted the order with pleasure.

Once Rommel left, Manstein offered his own view: "Field Marshal, isn't setting aside an entire corps as a reserve a bit too much of a strain on our current combat operations?"

Had he been facing his old superior, Field Marshal von Rundstedt, Manstein might have voiced his thoughts sooner. Of course, if Rundstedt were commanding the southern front, he likely wouldn't have considered a plan to attack Samara, the Central Asian railway hub—let alone cutting off Yekaterinburg, the vital Trans-Siberian hub.

In the initial vision of the Battle of Stalingrad, capturing this important industrial city and the transport hub connecting Moscow to the southern USSR would sever the country in two, greatly weakening the link between Moscow and the Ukraine region.

The start of any major operation triggers a chain reaction. Once the battle for Stalingrad began, the Soviets would inevitably dispatch massive forces to relieve it. From an overall strategic view, Moscow being forced to send more troops to Stalingrad would weaken its own defenses, reducing the resistance faced by Army Group Center as it drove straight for the capital.

However, from the perspective of Army Group South, this placed them under even greater pressure.

Field Marshal von Rundstedt was an exceptionally fine soldier—pragmatic but not conservative, and one who avoided military gambles. Manstein, having served many times as Rundstedt's chief of staff, believed that if the old Field Marshal were in command, he would have made the annihilation of the Soviet forces in the Stalingrad area his core objective, and would never have set aside a panzer corps as a reserve for a future operation.

Manstein soon heard Reichenau's reply: "Chief of Staff, do you believe that if our forces seize all the land west of the Urals, it will force the Soviet Union to surrender?"

Manstein was momentarily taken aback. He didn't believe the USSR would surrender simply because it lost its western regions, so he chose not to answer.

Reichenau was feeling somewhat emotional at that moment.

A few months ago, when he attended the Singapore Conference as a civilian scholar, Li Runshi had told him that European nations—whether Germany or the Soviet Union—subconsciously clung to "Eurocentrism." As a communist, Li Runshi recognized only productivity. If one looked at the world seriously, one would find that Europe was no longer the region with the most powerful productivity. Both North America and East Asia had surpassed it.

Communists had always insisted on productivity determinism rather than historical claims. China's history was an excellent example: from a productivity standpoint, China had led the world for twenty centuries. Yet over the last three hundred years, hadn't it lost that leading position precisely because its productivity development lagged?

Since his meeting with Li Runshi, Reichenau had undergone a painful reconstruction of his strategic thinking, finally breaking the myth of Eurocentrism. Having discarded that habitual thinking, he saw things much more clearly.

When he went to Berlin to see Hitler recently, Reichenau had found that the Führer also tended to believe the Soviets would negotiate once they lost their prime western regions. This had infuriated Reichenau!

Politically, Reichenau was a staunch Nazi supporter, but that didn't mean he would indulge Hitler militarily. He had engaged in a tense argument with the Führer and ultimately forced him to make concessions.

Now, facing Manstein, Reichenau asked, "Chief of Staff, do you consider yourself a Eurocentrist?"

Manstein hadn't expected the Field Marshal to pose such a grand strategic question and was momentarily dazed.

Seeing Manstein's stunned expression, Reichenau didn't go into a long discourse but spoke from the heart: "Eurocentrists believe Europe is the center of the world, the hub of the great terrestrial wheel. Therefore, they believe that whatever other nations and regions want to do globally, it must be achieved through negotiation and compromise with Europe. Without this European center, no effort can succeed.

Those who believe the Soviets will surrender once they lose their prime western regions largely don't realize they are committed Eurocentrists, which is why they think a Soviet Union deprived of its European portion will be capable of nothing.

If one discards this trivial Eurocentrism, a different picture emerges. Even if they lose the Western USSR, if five million Soviet troops are fully armed in their Asian territories and launch a counter-offensive along with five million Chinese troops, do we have the capability to hold the West?"

As Manstein looked at Reichenau's grim expression, a powerful sense of fear rose from the soles of his feet to the top of his head, making him shudder violently despite it being September.

Reichenau saw the goosebumps on Manstein's neck and felt no urge to mock him, but rather a sense of sympathy. He had gone through the same mental journey. During his "visit" to the four Southern nations, Reichenau had seen them acquire a vast amount of modern infrastructure in just two years under Chinese drive. Through trade, China had easily incorporated them into its economic circle.

Though their industry was far below Spain's, they were located in subtropical regions with abundant resources and large populations. Once they established economic systems suited to their conditions, they developed with startling speed. Compared to Europe, it felt as if Spain had approached Italy's level in just two years.

This change meant China had restored its capacity as the world's axis. China didn't need European support; it only needed to act according to its own steps to achieve its goals.

As a European, abandoning Eurocentrism was undoubtedly painful. But Reichenau felt that even more unbearable than that pain was the prospect of self-destruction caused by one's own stupidity.

Looking at Manstein's pale face, Reichenau said, "What Germany must prioritize now is not European hegemony. In an era where Europe is no longer the world's center, even if we gain that hegemony, we will soon lose it.

What Germany must consider now is how to secure its place in the new global configuration. Severing the transport lines between China and the USSR is not to defeat the Soviets, but to buy time for Germany. During that time, we must effectively pressure the USSR to abandon its cooperation with China and then construct a system favorable to Germany leading Europe against external influence.

China will not use the European colonial model; after all, even Europe itself is no longer willing to do so. After China leaves Europe, it will certainly choose partners. Chief of Staff, at this stage France is undoubtedly China's best partner. But in all of Europe, is France the only one capable of cooperating with China? Why can't that partner be Germany?"

Manstein also possessed strategic vision. Although his mind was in turmoil, his intuition told him Reichenau was speaking from a very high strategic level. He spoke with some difficulty: "Field Marshal, permit me to withdraw for now."

Reichenau didn't expect Manstein to fully absorb these ideas immediately and granted the request. After Manstein left, Reichenau sat alone for a moment. He recalled the look on Hitler's face—as if he had been hurt—during their intense discussion.

But Hitler was Hitler, and he had ultimately accepted a portion of Reichenau's views. While the possibility of China arming five million Soviets in Asia existed in theory, it would not be an easy feat to accomplish.

Moreover, some of Hitler's strategic reactions had given Reichenau cause for hope. Although Hitler himself was a Eurocentrist, he was capable of maintaining thoughts outside that framework, however reluctantly.

Under such thinking, Hitler believed that as a great power, the USSR would never be willing to submit to another. Therefore, if Germany abandoned the intention of annexing Soviet territory and instead forced the Soviets to recognize they couldn't defeat Germany, it might be possible to force them into neutrality by dealing them a crushing blow.

If such a strategic situation could be achieved, the Allied camp could form two strategic axes—Germany and America—forming a North Atlantic fortress to counter China.

Germany's goal was not to fight a war of mutual exhaustion with the Chinese expeditionary force, but to conclude a favorable truce with China as the axis of Europe. Thereafter, through cooperation with China, they would become the future core of Europe. If this strategy could be reached, the dream of a thousand-year Third Reich might truly be realized.

Thus, Reichenau and Hitler had reached a brief consensus: the Trans-Siberian Railway must be destroyed to win sufficient time for Germany. Only then did Hitler agree to transfer the jet fighters to Army Group South.

Soon, with the commitment of the jets, the Soviet Southern Front—which had not received new fighters—felt unprecedented pressure. Their already precarious air superiority was completely lost. Although a million Soviet troops could continue fighting under bombardment, their losses began to increase markedly.

While this change didn't surprise the Red Army General Staff, telegrams from the Southern Front arrived like snowflakes, many phrased quite bluntly. Some were even directed to the Kremlin, with the Front reporting directly to Stalin about the harm caused by the Air Force's favoritism.

General Novikov, Commander of the Red Army Air Force, managed to restrain himself, as he had no other choice. The Soviet side had urgently requested that the Chinese Air Force provide second-hand equipment, and the Chinese had agreed.

However, the distance from Western China to the furthest regions of the Pacific theater was twenty thousand kilometers. Furthermore, those fighters had been modified for Pacific operations and had to be refitted for the Soviet theater. This required time.

Additionally, the Soviet Air Force had not fully adapted to Chinese aircraft; even if a large number were delivered, they would require a period of familiarization flight.

So Novikov had to temporarily focus on the use of existing aircraft. At a meeting, he inquired about the status of joint Sino-Soviet upgrades for current Soviet fighters.

A comrade from the military industry department shared the situation with regret: "Chinese engines and ours are completely different models. All the data accumulated from Chinese wind tunnel tests is useless for modifying our fighters. Can we now agree to have Soviet fighter improvements completed entirely within the Chinese wind tunnel complexes?"

Those attending the meeting were industry experts and fully understood the implications. This massive problem in technical interoperability had been discussed before. Before the Soviet-German war, China was already at war, and many new aircraft had shown their strength in the Pacific and Indian Oceans. After inspecting the Chinese Air Force, the USSR had indeed considered importing their technology.

Back then, they had discovered this problem: the Soviet Air Force couldn't simply borrow Chinese tech. And the USSR's national positioning and political ideology prevented them from adopting the Chinese technical system. The gap in air technology was immense; unless the Soviet Air Force fully adopted the Chinese system, they couldn't truly utilize the technology.

The industrial official spoke even more bluntly: "If we continue with the upgrade model, in the short term we can only rely on Chinese wind tunnels and design systems. All our fighter data will be known to China. I request a decision from higher departments on this matter."

General Novikov didn't find this particularly thorny; he couldn't make the decision anyway—it had to be the Kremlin. And he felt the matter would likely be debated within the Politburo for some time, so for now the Air Force didn't need to be distracted by it.

The meeting immediately moved to the next agenda item. Novikov asked, "What is the progress on learning the Chinese Air Force's operational system?"

It was clear this question hit a nerve with the Air Force leadership; their expressions were a mix of excitement and hesitation. Novikov worked to dispel their concerns: "Only by speaking of the problems can we solve them."

The Lieutenant General in charge immediately invited Academician Lebedev, who had been temporarily appointed as group leader, to report. Lebedev, like the other scientists in the group, was now in Red Army uniform. When the KGB had taken them, they were told they were being mobilized. The KGB hadn't lied; based on their status and expertise, they had been commissioned as Lieutenant Colonels or Colonels.

Facing a room full of air force generals, Colonel Lebedev was inevitably excited. But as a former university lecturer, once he cast the generals in the role of students, he felt at ease and his delivery became much smoother. "After several days of study, we are already capable of operating the electronic computers. Based on the principles of these machines, we have also had the calculation centers rerun the results of our completed data operations. To date, the results match."

The generals listened intently, and everyone felt a sense of relief that Lebedev didn't launch into a technical discourse. It was wartime; aside from the officers sent to learn, no one in the high command of the Air Force or Red Army wanted to waste time on suddenly appearing new technologies.

Before coming to report, Lebedev had received guidance from military commissars and understood what the military needed. He continued on the requirements for more effective use of the computers: "After detailed discussion, the working group believes we must purchase peripherals from China—storage devices, displays, and even keyboards."

Hearing these requests, Commander Novikov wasn't particularly worried. At this stage, China allowed a three-year credit line; buying a few more items wasn't a problem. What he cared about was whether the scientist believed they had to buy Chinese computers in large quantities.

Just as Novikov was about to ask, Lebedev said, "At this stage, our vacuum-tube production capacity is fully capable of meeting our needs with domestic tubes. The greatest problem we face is what scale of Chinese computers to buy. The larger the scale, the greater the computing power. Yet we would also encounter many problems. In this area, we are still novices. We can complete the design and production of a small electronic computer in a very short time..."

"How long!" Novikov interrupted him.

"We can produce a computer capable of over 500 operations per second within a week," Lebedev replied confidently. He added, "We have already learned the design philosophy of the Chinese machines. If time is not a factor, we can develop Soviet computers through continuous experimentation."

At this, the generals all breathed a sigh of relief. They had feared China was holding back and not telling them the basic principles. Now that Lebedev's report matched those of the other participating officers, it seemed the USSR indeed mastered the basics. And with the scientists and officers in agreement that Soviet tubes could replace Chinese ones, the generals felt there was no cause for concern.