Holy Roman Empire

Chapter 1102: Chapter 116, Anglo-Austrian War??

A bad idea is still an idea, no matter how poor the cost-performance ratio, as long as it can save lives in critical moments, the Tsarist Government could only accept it.

By the end of 1904 in the original timeline, the Siberian Railway had been inaugurated, although it could not operate normally, it still managed to dispatch a few train cars on average each day.

Do not underestimate these inconspicuous few train cars; in critical moments, these supplies could even determine the outcome of a war.

Gaps always need to be filled, and in desperation, the Tsarist Government actually turned to smuggling trade.

After the European wars ended, air forces tacitly chose to phase out airships, except for a few transport airships, basically, the skies were dominated by aeroplanes.

The Russian Empire had its airship troops as well, but due to cost-effectiveness, their scale remained very small.

...

After the outbreak of the Russo-Japanese War, the airship troops were not deployed to the Far East, partly because of cost-effectiveness and partly because the military high command knew their airship troops were already obsolete.

There was no choice; the lifespan of airships is limited, if equipment isn’t replaced in ten to twenty years, they dare not ascend even for regular training.

Not to mention completing combat missions, even transporting to the Far East was a problem—Russian Army airships were too ancient to reach their destination on their own.

By contrast, Shinra’s airship troops were different. Although withdrawn from combat, the logistics troops still retained a complete formation.

Unlike Russian bureaucrats sticking to formalities, as long as Shinra’s military had a formation, weapon equipment nearing retirement had to be replaced.

Although airships were withdrawn from the battlefield, hurting manufacturers’ enthusiasm, only combat airships had their production lines cut, while transport airships managed to survive stubbornly.

Not just the military was using them, but civilians as well. If it weren’t for their poor cost-effectiveness, airships would have ranked as the fourth major mainstream mode of transportation alongside trains, ships, and cars.

In developed countries like Shinra, the cost was deemed high, let alone in developing countries. Even if they wanted to buy, they didn’t have the money!

Under these circumstances, the military’s retired airships were in an awkward position. There was no market for exports, and they were rejected domestically.

Capitalists, although greedy, also had to consider risks. Military airships indeed performed well but required high maintenance standards.

After all, they flew in the sky. Any problem could potentially lead to the destruction of the ship and loss of lives.

Selling them to the Russians now was undoubtedly the best opportunity. After the handover, they would be immediately deployed to the front lines, even eliminating the need for follow-up services.

If an accident occurred during flight, it would definitely be the Japanese’s doing; otherwise, it was due to improper operation, totally unrelated to the airships themselves.

From the enthusiastic sales attitude, it was evident that the Vienna Government’s top-level secrecy was excellently maintained. Even insiders did not know that the government was already mentally prepared for the Tsarist Government to default on its debts.

Preparations had to be made in advance, for the Russians had a history of debt default, not just once but repeatedly, ์typical habitual offenders.

On the surface, the Russians still seemed to hold the winning ticket. Even with logistical problems, the outside world still favored the Russians.

Not only the Tsarist Government was confident about the soon-to-open Siberian Railway, but the outside world also had great faith in this railway.

According to “experts,” once the Siberian Railway was operational, it could transport fifteen million tons of goods annually, even if a million Russian soldiers were fighting on the front lines, it would easily meet logistical needs.

How the figures were calculated, Franz did not know, but he did not believe the Russians could achieve it.

Don’t even mention the Siberian Railway, even from Moscow to St. Petersburg, if a single-track operation were to be cut, it couldn’t achieve the theoretical target.

It wasn’t that the railways couldn’t bear the load, nor that the train speed was too slow; the real issue lay in organizational capability.

During the final period of World War II, the Soviet Union Government had set a record of transporting 1.45 million tons per month.

However, it was only for that one month because, due to the climate, the Siberian Railway’s annual transport volume still couldn’t break ten million tons.

Forty years earlier, with cargo capacity needing a 50 percent increase from the Soviet base, there was no play unless the Tsarist Government was given exceptional abilities.

Considering the difference in eras, rather than challenging the extreme limits of transport capability, achieving just one-tenth of it would have allowed the Russian Army to pin the Japanese down and hammer them.

Regretfully, transporting 145,000 tons of materials monthly was also an unreachable dream.

At least, without an improved support and management system around the Siberian Railway, it wasn’t feasible.

Since the outside world generally believed the Russians could win, naturally, they didn’t think the Tsarist Government would go bankrupt. As long as they won the war, losses could completely be shifted onto others.

Even though Japan was poor, a thorough scouring would always squeeze some oil out of it.

If that failed, they could still use labor to offset the cost. Unlike the lazy and greedy…, Japanese labor was likewise a high-quality workforce.

…

While Russia and Austria were contemplating logistical solutions for the Russian Army at the front lines, the situation in London also tightened, the air thick with the dense smell of gunpowder.

Integrating industrial capacity was intrinsically a thankless task. For capitalists, the big picture was far less important than making money.

For the Campbell Government pushing all this, everyone naturally had a bad impression. The direct manifestation was that public opinion furiously criticized, as if the Campbell Government were villains destroying Britannia.

The Opposition party also seized the opportunity to initiate impeachment in the parliament. Had it not been for King Edward VII’s personal support and rivals not wanting to step up and clean up the mess at that time, Downing Street might already have had a new owner.

Being criticized was one thing; any government that was genuinely doing things was bound to be criticized. As long as they succeeded, the bad reputation could also be cleansed.

Seeing the Prime Minister Campbell’s look of wanting to devour someone indicated clearly that things were not progressing smoothly.

Prompted by interested parties, integrating industrial capacity was seen by the public as the government colluding with conglomerates to monopolize and devour everyone’s industry.

Protest voices were incessant for a time, and the thundering slogans of the marching demonstrators echoed throughout The British Isles. Small and medium capitalists showed in action that their answer was a firm “no.”

Not only the general populace resisted, but even the conglomerates lacked interest. “Monopolizing the market” sounded wonderful, but in practice, it was realized that many industries just couldn’t operate this way.

The low entry barrier was one aspect, but crucially, for social stability, the Campbell Government demanded that everyone avoid layoffs and not inflate prices unconscionably.

Essentially, the core advantage of a monopoly lay in optimizing corporate structure, reducing production costs, and autonomously controlling pricing power—with these two aspects now gone, what was the point?

Especially for financial conglomerates, this was even more disastrous. Accustomed to making quick money, they had no interest in earnestly engaging in the industry.

As the “2%” in the “80/20 rule,” financiers were striving to control 120% of the world’s wealth. Regarding the Campbell Government’s plans, they naturally gave a curt “no thanks.”

Everyone from top to bottom opposed it, so naturally, the plan could not be promoted. After months of effort, Prime Minister Campbell helplessly realized that he had only reaped loneliness.

Even though the government had implemented tariff barriers, the nation’s languishing industries still showed little improvement.

Intense international competition was just one aspect, the more critical issue was that Britain had followed the old path of a Usury Empire. More and more consortia in the country favored the financial industry, with fewer and fewer people willing to earnestly engage in manufacturing.

The British Government itself was not very strong, its policy orientations could influence the domestic economy, but it lacked the power to have the final say.

Sunset industries, lacking capital injections, were also not prospering despite government support.

It could only be said that Campbell was too hasty. If he had been slower, waited for the previously set economic policies to ferment, and let others see that investing in industry was also profitable, naturally, people would have joined.

Clearly, Campbell couldn’t wait, and neither could Britain. The turbulent international situation told them they must be “fast.”

Minister of Industry, Henry Burkes, spoke, “The opposition from the public is growing, and all sectors of society are opposing government intervention in the economic market.

It’s now impossible to integrate the national industries in a short time. The Ministry of Industry is preparing to adjust the plan and start the contingency plan.”

Politicians who dove headlong into their agendas without looking back were always in the minority. Most politicians still preferred to “adapt as needed.”

Seeing the plan fail, as the executors, the Ministry of Industry naturally had to find a way to handle the aftermath.

Hearing about “starting the contingency plan,” Campbell looked even more upset. There was no choice, euphemistically called a “contingency plan,” bluntly, it was about appeasing the capital sector with national interests to gain everyone’s cooperation in what comes next.

Of course, this “cooperation” was definitely predicated on the government giving up the plan to integrate industries.

Interior Minister Azefdo said irritably, “If it’s a failure, it’s a failure. Since no one cares about the bigger picture, why should we be the villains!”

This was a heartfelt sentiment. The more Azefdo understood the country, the more he fell into despair.

After the rise of the Holy Roman Empire, the once impressive British Empire was left with nothing but superficial glamour.

Free trade had built the British Empire’s glory, and yet, free trade was also leading the British Empire down a path of no return.

Under the free trade system, British capital thrived around the world, making a fortune.

Even though Shinra’s economic scale was larger, the British still had more sway in the capital markets. Shinra capital earned money through industrial and commercial products, while British capital profited immensely by exploiting market inefficiencies.

Despite Britain’s chronic trade deficits in international trade, the profits British capital accrued were by no means less than Shinra, even slightly more in some aspects.

In a sense, this was the core reason why past governments, even knowing that the trade deficit was widening, did not exit the free trade system.

Until Campbell’s era, the resentment in the national industrial and commercial sectors had accumulated to its peak, the pressure was no longer containable, and they had been forced to make a drastic cut.

With that cut, everyone finally saw Britain’s vulnerability. It was bad enough that new technology sectors were entirely lagging, the key issue was that even traditional industries now faced insufficient production capacity.

Azefdo, who had swallowed his anger outside, now could no longer suppress his resentment and was on the brink of reckless abandonment.

Chancellor of the Exchequer Asquith spoke, “Calm down, Sir Azefdo. Britain has reached its most critical moment, we cannot let anger affect our reason.

Though the plan to integrate industrial capacity was progressing slowly, there were some gains, especially in fields like steel and coal where resource concentration definitively increased and capacity enhancement was expected to follow shortly.

Though the progress was slower than anticipated, the period had not been wasted. Using the Russo-Japanese War as a cover, the Empire had purchased a large number of scarce materials from overseas.

With these supplies, we wouldn’t fall behind in the short term.”

Explaining further only heightened the tension in the room. Everyone was focused on the underlying message: if we weren’t falling behind in the short term, it implied a disadvantage in the long-run competition.

Minister of the Army Marcus Cazel said, “We can discuss this over and over, but essentially, we’re not solving the problem.

As an island country, competing industrially with Shinra is unwise. Don’t forget, they are the masters of Europe, and now with the Russians busy expanding eastward, they aren’t effectively restrained.

If this prolonged confrontation continues, we won’t just face the Holy Roman Empire, but also the European world that rallies under their banner.

From a military perspective, rather than waiting for the adversary to be ready and challenge us, we’d better take advantage of our current superiority and strike first.

Whatever the method, as long as we can severely damage, or even annihilate, the Shinra Navy, the situation would swiftly turn in our favor.

Even if we couldn’t destroy the Holy Roman Empire in one go, at least we could ensure their compliance for the next twenty years. I believe that, with the strength of the Imperial Navy, accomplishing this would not be difficult.”

Upon hearing Marcus’s suggestion, Navy Minister Swindon couldn’t remain seated, “Do you think we don’t want to do that? But the problem now is that the main force of the Shinra Navy is nested in the Mediterranean and won’t budge.

Within their Mediterranean stronghold, protected by air forces and shore batteries, even if the Imperial Navy risks a deep penetration, it’s highly unlikely to achieve any significant victories.”

With great power comes great responsibility.

As the head of the British Military, the Royal Navy inevitably bears the hefty task of defending Britannia. All of Britannia’s decisive battle plans, devised by the British Government, revolve around the Navy.

Indeed, the Royal Navy lived up to expectations, exhibiting unmatched prowess over the past two centuries, solidifying Great Britain’s centuries of glory with battle after battle.

However, even the Royal Navy has its limits. If the enemy refuses to leave their stronghold, they too are not entirely powerless.

Not to be outdone, Minister of the Army Marcus retorted, “If the enemy won’t come out for a decisive battle, then we must find a way to lure them out.

At this point, surely no one is still dreaming of living peacefully with the Holy Roman Empire?

Since a conflict is inevitable either way, why not strike first, disrupt their rhythm, and increase our odds of winning?”

Is Marcus truly belligerent?

The answer is, of course: no.

If there were other options, he would absolutely not consider waging a war against Shinra at this time. If war were to erupt, not only would the Navy need to surge forward, but the Army must also step up.

Not to mention, it’s crucial to secure the Cape of Good Hope. Losing this vital port would disrupt the sea route from the British Isles to India.

Not just the Cape of Good Hope, regions like Persia and the Indochina Peninsula bordering Shinra would also face challenges.

Yet inaction wasn’t an option; the British Government had already thrown its full support behind the Navy, while the stepchild that was the Army had to make do with the leftovers.