"Colonel, here we are!"
Arriving at the General Staff in Hamburg, Colonel Mainz found the atmosphere tense.
The German barracks in Hamburg looked empty compared to when he left, and Mainz didn't react at first, but when he rushed to Field Marshal Hindenburg's office, he realized what this meant: hundreds of thousands of troops had been laid off, yet the barracks were far from empty—it was a strange sight.
"Coming back?"
Field Marshal Hindenburg looked much more haggard than a few months ago. The old marshal did not seem in good spirits; thick dark circles under his eyes and a tired expression made people worry about his health.
"Army Colonel Mainz von Lewinsky reports to you!"
Mainz straightened his chest and gave the old marshal a meticulous military salute.
"Hehe, didn't you meet some pretty girl on the road who stole our colonel's heart?"
The old marshal joked with a smile. Mainz felt his face flush—rare for him—but he said nothing. Explanations would have been superfluous; the old marshal was just teasing. Once Mainz was seated, Hindenburg spoke:
"How's things going in North America?"
Hindenburg did not inquire about Mainz's activities in Bolshevik Russia or the Far East, but directly about what he had seen and heard in North America. This did not mean the marshal was unaware of events in Russia and the Far East, only that he attached more importance to North American affairs.
"The plan is going well. With the help of Goldman Sachs, we have successfully entered the most promising automotive industry in North America. The sector will see a golden decade ahead. As long as our technology keeps pace with other manufacturers, I am confident Germans craftsmanship will allow us to create superior products and generate substantial campaign funds for the empire!"
Hindenburg nodded in understanding.
"I've read your telegram and understand your plan, but are you certain it will succeed?"
The marshal trusted Mainz immensely, rarely interfering in his plans, yet he could not help but voice his concerns.
Hindenburg's concern was not trivial: Mainz was secretly using North American automobile factories to develop armored vehicles and tanks for the German army, accumulating technical experience for the Third Reich's future armored tactics.
After the global economic crisis of 1929, economies worldwide suffered, including the Weimar Republic. Mass unemployment and social unrest transformed the political landscape, paving the way for the Hitler's rise to power. Once in power, he immediately abolished the Treaty of Versailles, refusing war reparations, expanding the army, and restoring the Wehrmacht—completely breaking the treaty's restrictions.
Within fifteen years, the German army would be unrestricted and could develop aircraft, tanks, and other weapons.
But technology accumulation takes time. If the German army remained idle, it would lag behind European powers and the United States in tanks and armored vehicles. Other countries, unbound by treaty restrictions, could develop freely. To prevent a generational gap in weaponry, Germany needed to begin research and development immediately. Once the treaty was fully void, these accumulated technologies could be deployed without delay.
Aircraft and tanks would be crucial in future land warfare. Civil aviation offered a clever cover: Germany could experiment with aircraft technology under the guise of civil development, avoiding scrutiny from Britain, France, and other nations. Tanks, however, could not be disguised—they required secure, secretive production abroad.
One of Mainz's primary goals in visiting a foreign country was to find a safe location to study and develop tank technology.
"I have considered the security factors. So far, we have three choices. One is to cooperate with Bolshevik-controlled Russia—the Red Woolly Bear. Politically isolated, with the Entente supporting White Army generals trying to overthrow the Bolsheviks, they would almost certainly accept our help. No other European power would dare transfer advanced technology to them."
Hindenburg nodded thoughtfully. Supporting Bolshevik Russia could strengthen them and form a solid basis for cooperation. Yet Mainz ultimately vetoed this option after his field investigation, leaving the marshal curious.
"Though geographically close to germany, on Europe's edge, rail travel to Bolshevik Russia—while slow—would still take only two to three days, far faster than transatlantic cruises to North America, which took eight to fifteen days and remained dangerous, as the Titanic disaster of 1912 had shown. So why dismiss Russia when conditions seemed ideal?"