**Chapter 857: Aiding the Soviet Union (14)**

"Can software and hardware truly be separated to the point where ordinary people can perform tasks just by operating the software?" Wu Youping marveled.

He Rui replied confidently, "The state's investment in the electronics industry has been so massive, and combined with the efforts of so many technical personnel, we have finally reached such a standard."

Though he didn't understand the electronics industry, Wu understood industry. During his tenure leading the State Council, computers had been classified under the electronics sector. Even with the industry's high profits, the He Rui government had invested another 1.5% of GDP into the sector. Such immense investment had given birth to a gargantuan industry.

The capacity of this industry had granted the Chinese military an edge in electronics that suppressed Western forces. Furthermore, based on this electronic advantage, China had built its operational systems. From then on, China had taken the lead in entering the stage of warfare systems confrontation. Not only did China possess this advantage, but even the USSR could reach new heights in systems confrontation through Chinese aid.

Wu knew well the enormous impact of the electronics industry on the nation. He asked He Rui, "Chairman, are you planning to take charge of the economy?"

"I don't intend to manage it directly. But I am prepared to oversee the next round of industrial layout." He Rui didn't commit himself too strictly.

To Wu's ears, however, this already meant He Rui agreed to manage the economy. He smiled happily. "Heh, if the Chairman comes back to the economy, I can set down my burden entirely."

He Rui shook his head. "I hope to have Comrade Runshi responsible for formulating future industrial development."

Wu was somewhat skeptical. "Chairman, you shouldn't place such a heavy responsibility on him."

He Rui sighed. "Youping, you are a very pure comrade. But rest assured, Comrade Runshi is stronger than you think!"

Wu only gave a sigh and said nothing more. As for the "purity" He Rui mentioned, Wu felt he deserved the praise, for he would never accept himself becoming someone whose personal desires affected the nation.

Yet he also knew well that while there were many such comrades in the Party, they did not form an overwhelming majority. Most were still influenced by personal interests to varying degrees.

As a major world power today, China's leaders naturally possessed immense power. In the future, China would be the world's leader, the true Celestial Empire; the sheer scale of the power its future leaders would hold was something even He Rui hadn't personally experienced. And since He Rui's chosen successor, Li Runshi, would naturally inherit that power, many had their own thoughts in the face of such unprecedented temptation.

Since that wasn't a topic for discussion, Wu shifted the subject. "Chairman, now that the USSR has the air force operational system, will the Germans opposite them possess one of equal standard in the short term? After all, German military technology is far ahead of the Soviet Union's."

He Rui shook his head. "According to our intelligence, the Germans haven't even managed to develop their own vacuum-tube computer. Lacking that hardware support, they certainly cannot create an air combat system equivalent to the Soviets'."

He Rui's judgment was correct. The USSR had requested ten sets of systems capable of commanding 1,000 fighters each. This was because they believed they had the capability to rapidly domesticate the Chinese operational system and computers, so they only purchased enough to command a total force of 10,000 aircraft.

Since the system became operational, Soviet air losses had shown a clear downward trend. Yet no one in the Air Force Command was discussing this, as the General Staff's goal was to deal the Wehrmacht a heavy blow through a powerful counter-offensive. Before operations began, the units were already mentally prepared for heavy casualties.

Originally, Zhukov had planned to attack the isolated German 21st Panzer Corps, but he hadn't expected them to move so fast, causing the encirclement plan to fail. But the Red Army's counter-offensive couldn't stop; since the Germans had withdrawn from the east bank of the Volga, the Red Army drove southeast along the river to restore the link with the Baku oil fields.

The Wehrmacht did not cross the Volga just because Soviet units appeared to its east. On the contrary, Field Marshal von Reichenau was happy to see it. The more the Red Army diverted troops to the south, the more they had to pull from the Moscow area, the heart of the Soviet railway network. Fewer defenders around Moscow meant fewer German troops needed for the assault.

The General Staff also realized this, so once the Red Army had established key point defenses along the east bank, they resisted pressure from the Kremlin and did not organize an immediate counter-offensive.

On the morning of October 20th, a north wind rose, and clouds filled the sky. By afternoon, a fine rain began to fall. Starting that day, the rain along the entire Eastern Front was almost incessant.

For the first two days, both sides could continue fighting in the rain. By the third day of non-stop downpour, the soft earth was saturated; terrain that had once allowed easy movement now swallowed tank treads.

The autumn rain showed no sign of stopping. As gust after gust of north wind blew, water fell from the rolling clouds, making the ground slicker and muddier.

In such an environment, the German advance grew slower and slower. And slow movement was not the worst part; since the Wehrmacht didn't rely on the railways for their offensive, their logistics faced a severe challenge.

Even tanks with wide tracks bogged down in the mud, and the supply trucks were in even worse straits. Currently, Soviet tank units carried logs on the back of their vehicles. These were roughly a dozen centimeters in diameter; when a tank bogged down, the logs were placed under the treads to provide traction in the slurry. The German panzer units initially lacked this experience and suffered several counter-attacks from the Red Army as a result.

While the Luftwaffe held air superiority and could use Stukas to destroy Soviet tanks immobilized in the mud, the Soviet tanks still had time to strike at the even less mobile German panzers before the aircraft arrived.

The autumn mud season, the "Rasputitsa," was not long—only a month or so. Yet for the vast majority of German soldiers, this was their first time witnessing nearly a million square kilometers of mud. In any direction, anywhere on Soviet soil outside the cities, was a nightmare of muck that grew slicker and more saturated every day.

For the past twenty years, the Soviet government had dreaded this season. Yet for the first time in history, they found the autumn rain precious. No blood needed to be shed; the climate alone had weakened the German offensive. The rain from late October until the freeze in late November would buy the Red Army sufficient time.

In the General Staff under Zhukov, a vast amount of intelligence on German movements was being compiled. After analysis, they confirmed that the Wehrmacht was currently making no move to construct defensive positions. Furthermore, they weren't reinforcing or repairing the Soviet defensive lines they had captured.

Although the Red Army was still being pushed back, the General Staff had begun planning a full-scale counter-offensive centered on Leningrad and Moscow, with a projected range of over 300 kilometers.

If the Germans were building defenses now, they could retreat into them once the counter-offensive began and launch vigorous counter-strikes. Since they weren't, another two weeks would mean they'd have no chance to build a line before the freeze.

With this confirmed, Zhukov ordered full mobilization to prepare for combat once the ground froze. If the Germans hadn't destroyed the Central Asian rail line, a massive amount of equipment from that region could have reached Moscow. With Rommel's sabotage, the Red Army had to take a longer route.

Originally, Moscow was not directly linked to the Trans-Siberian Railway, but with the rapid growth of Sino-Soviet trade, surveys had begun for a spur line. Before the war, survey and design had been finished, and 38% of the preliminary construction complete.

After the invasion began, the USSR prepared a second track for the Trans-Siberian and simultaneously finished the Moscow spur. Due to the security trust with China, only one division had been left in the Far East. Besides the military mobilization, Stalin ordered all younger, fit convicts in Siberian prisons to work on the railway. They managed to complete the Moscow-Trans-Siberian spur by October 27th. Thus, new equipment could travel north on the main line and then straight south to Moscow.

The first batch of equipment arriving featured many new technologies, especially on the T-34. Much of this had been partially developed by the Soviets and was finished with help from Chinese technicians.

Even so, Stalin was somewhat surprised during a quick inspection. The tanks were for the first time equipped with "Cyclone" air filters—imported from China and identical to those on the Chinese Type 59 tanks.

This device was inside the tank, so Stalin didn't see it or care much. What he noticed was the changed shape of the T-34 turret. Besides that, the cylindrical external fuel tanks were very eye-catching, the most prominent feature of this model.

The box-type external tanks held 40 liters, with two usually fitted for an extra 80 liters of fuel. The cylindrical ones held 50 liters, with three typically fitted for a theoretical 150 liters. In practice, one was often used for extra lubricant, so they generally added 100 liters of fuel capacity.

As for the new hexagonal turret, it had a story of its own. Stalin listened patiently to the briefing. Soviet R&D often proceeded in independent groups, each unaware of the others. Commercially, this was inefficient, but for military security, it was perfect.

During wartime, no place was safe. If teams collaborated and a core team suffered heavy losses, research would stop or be severely impacted.

Independent groups avoided this. If six teams worked separately, even if five failed, one completing the task meant progress wasn't delayed.

Of course, the Soviets planned for extremes. In reality, multiple teams succeeded with the hexagonal turret designed by Nabutovsky. Depending on the manufacturer's techniques, there were three main types: stamped and two types of cast. Finer distinctions included "hard-edge" and "soft-edge" variants, along with at least five other process differences.

Some "hard-edge" turrets had as many as ten components, with seven in the turret ring alone. "Soft-edge" versions had only two—the main body and the ring. In both, the roof armor was a separate plate welded on.

The most complex versions likely came from Factory 183. Due to equipment shortages, the Ural Heavy Machinery Plant (Uralmash) initially struggled with the turret. P. P. Malyarov was forced to design an even more complex workflow, manufacturing parts separately and then assembling them. One "hard-edge" type had three components for the main body (upper, lower, and bustle floor), while another was divided into front, rear, and bustle floor. As technical hurdles were cleared, these assembly methods were replaced by monolithic casting.

Stalin felt the man briefing him might have ulterior motives, perhaps trying to criticize the Soviet R&D system. But knowing the USSR couldn't afford the massive expenditure of such teams, he ignored the implication.

Finally, they reached the last hexagonal turret, developed by Uralmash. Because of the technical difficulties in casting, they had abandoned complexity for a "brute force" approach.

This turret used a stamped structure for the basic hexagonal shape, with other parts cast and produced in sync. The upper half was 45mm armor plate, originally intended to be pressed monolithically by a 5,000-ton hydraulic press designed by Varyushev and Arsenyev, then welded to the cast base.

This was already excellent technology, but now the Soviets had Chinese aid. Chinese engineers helped convert the water presses to oil-hydraulic ones. Since the Soviet engineers had numerous spares for the 5,000-ton machines, the Chinese utilized them to assemble two additional 5,000-ton oil presses.

Stalin felt complex emotions after the briefing. While the Chinese restraint in their actions reassured him, the technical gap between Soviet and Chinese engineers left him profoundly uneasy.

Still, such things were secondary; the new technologies were a success, and turret production could now proceed at three times the previous speed.

After the inspection, Stalin returned to the Kremlin and immediately asked Kirov about the oil supply from China. Kirov soon provided the report.

Chinese domestic crude production was around 60 million tons. The He Rui government had pushed for this before the war because data indicated it would meet China's basic needs during conflict. They hit that target in 1941.

According to published data, China currently required a total of 150 million tons from domestic and imported sources to fully satisfy its needs. Stalin was displeased to see this. Normally, such critical data underwent various adjustments before publication.

Yet the He Rui government didn't do that; since 1924, its published data had been remarkably accurate and honest. Stalin was envious. In 1942, Soviet production reached 35 million tons—but that was dependent on holding Baku. China had large fields too, but their reserves and output were clearly less than the USSR's.

Stalin felt that if China had a giant field like Baku, its production would likely top 200 million tons, matching the United States.

The next set of data soured his mood further. In 1942, China had already obtained 21 million tons from Southeast Asian fields and 29 million from the Arabian Peninsula and Iran.

These 50 million tons didn't fully satisfy Chinese demand, but they solved a massive problem. What angered Stalin even more was that China possessed the shipping capacity to transport 50 million tons of oil—that in itself seemed unrealistic.

If China continued like this, they could satisfy the needs of a 700-million-strong nation entirely through imports. This felt wrong to him—very, very wrong!