AWB Chapter 261 Handover Preparations
Chapter 261 Handover Preparations
A brief silence fell over the room after Muto left. Shimada remained standing by the window, his gaze piercing through the rain, landing on the silhouettes of the few warships that had miraculously escaped the East China Sea catastrophe in the harbor. Rainwater trickled down the glass, like the tears flowing through the nation.
Komura Kinichi coughed lightly, breaking the silence: "General, what you just said to General Muto... was it the truth?"
Shimada slowly turned around, his face expressionless: "Truth? Komura-kun, in this era, the truth is a luxury. We can only tell the truth."
"So, to be honest..."
"To be honest, the navy needs the army to go to Europe." Shimada walked back to the table, picked up the now-cold tea, "not to see them suffer—though that's what Muto thinks. It's because if the army doesn't go, the national finances will collapse, and the navy won't even be able to save its last few ships."
He took a sip of cold tea, the bitter taste spreading in his mouth: "Do you know how many officers and men on the 'Tone' are starving right now? Do you know that the wounded in the naval hospital are suffering from festering wounds due to lack of medicine, but they can only endure it? Do you know that the families of those fallen soldiers still haven't received their compensation?"
Komura lowered his head: "I know. The Ministry of Foreign Affairs receives petitions every day..."
"So this isn't revenge, it's survival." Shimada put down his teacup, his voice low. "If the army goes to Europe, the country can get foreign exchange, import food and medicine, and the navy can survive. As for what the army thinks..." He shook his head. "Let them think what they want."
The sound of rain outside the window grew heavier.
War Department Dispute
Meanwhile, in a secret room at the Yokohama Army Headquarters, Muto stood facing an old-fashioned telegraph machine, his brow furrowed. His adjutant stood beside him, codebook in hand, awaiting instructions.
"General, are we really going to send a telegram to Tokyo?" the adjutant asked cautiously. "Once it's sent, there's no turning back."
Muto didn't answer immediately. He walked to the wall, where a yellowed map of East Asia hung, densely marked with the deployments of the Japanese army—or rather, the locations where they had once been deployed. The Korean Peninsula, Manchuria, Taiwan… those red markers that symbolized the empire's glory now seemed so glaring.
"Send it," Muto finally said, "but not to the Ministry of the Army, but to General Utsunomiya's private line."
The adjutant paused, then said, "General Utsunomiya? But he's already..."
"He still has influence at the General Staff," Muto interrupted him. "Half of those young officers are his protégés. To get the Army to accept this humiliating plan, we have to convince him first."
Shimada arrived at the port early to inspect the few warships still capable of sailing. On the deck of the cruiser Tone, sailors were cleaning the deck, their movements mechanical and silent. After the defeat in the East China Sea, the morale of the navy had plummeted.
"General," the captain hurried forward, "what brings you here?"
"Take a look." Shimada waved his hand, stopping the captain from calling everyone together. "That's it, let's continue working."
"How's the food?" Shimada asked.
"...It's enough to eat, but the quality is very poor. The rice is half mixed with grains, the only vegetables are pickled radishes, and meat is eaten once a week, less than two ounces per person."
"Where's the medicine?"
"We've run out of painkillers and antibiotics. The seriously wounded have been transferred to the army hospital, and the lightly wounded... well, they can only tough it out."
Shimada stopped and looked out at the distant horizon. There, a cargo ship flying the Lanfang flag was slowly entering the port, its hull heavily drafted, clearly fully loaded with cargo.
"What kind of ship is that?"
"The Lanfang's 'Nanyang' reportedly brought 5,000 tons of rice and a batch of medicine," the captain said in a low voice. "It was specially arranged by Chen Feng, who said it was 'humanitarian aid.'"
Shimada's lips twitched. Humanitarian aid? What a grand-sounding term. But the reality was, that rice could save many lives, including the families of naval officers and soldiers.