Chapter 113: 112, German Army Craze: Skat, Blueprint And Process Transaction For Two Guns
Fang Wen pushed open the door.
In front of him was a downward staircase.
Clearly this beerhouse was in the basement part of the building.
He and Lin Shuiwang went down the stairs, turned a corner, and then saw the full view of Frontbierstube.
Inside it was very spacious, with three pillars around which six tables were placed, and a bar counter further inside.
Since it was called a beerhouse, there was naturally only one beverage inside: beer.
Fang Wen and Lin Shuiwang came to the bar counter.
“Two black beers.”
Lin Shuiwang’s strange German pronunciation drew the attention of everyone in the bar.
Discovering they were two foreigners, someone immediately took interest.
A strong man wearing suspenders finished a large glass of beer in one gulp and staggered over.
He placed both hands on the bar counter, squinting with a smile: “Japanese? I heard Japanese can’t finish one glass of beer, right?”
He raised the large wine cup in his hand with a smile, causing everyone in the bar to burst into laughter.
That thing had a capacity of 3000 milliliters, truly astonishing.
Lin Shuiwang looked at the strong man with disdain.
“I’m Chinese. How about we compete?”
He knew how to stir up trouble and attract attention, instantly livening up the bar’s atmosphere.
Everyone in the bar knew the strong man’s drinking capacity and immediately started jeering. Amid the lively noise, the strong man agreed.
Immediately, the two each picked up a huge wine cup and tilted their heads back to gulp.
The black beer liquid decreased bit by bit. Even Fang Wen hadn’t expected that the tall and thin Lin Shuiwang could drink so much beer.
After downing 3000 milliliters of beer, Lin Shuiwang’s belly swelled up. He let out a long burp of fullness, placed his hand on the strong man’s shoulder, and the two unexpectedly became drinking buddies.
With this spectacle, the unfamiliar atmosphere upon entering the bar vanished instantly, and everyone went back to drinking their own.
Next to him, Lin Shuiwang and the strong man chatted happily, while Fang Wen picked up the large wine cup, took a small sip, and observed the situation in the bar.
All six tables were full; only spots at the bar counter remained.
All six tables of people were wearing plain clothes, making it impossible to tell at a glance who was a military officer.
He wasn’t in a hurry; Lin Shuiwang next to him had talent in socializing after drinking.
After a while, the strong man and Lin Shuiwang high-fived happily and parted.
Lin Shuiwang then reported to Fang Wen: “That tall guy is called Owen. He’s a boiler worker who basically comes here every day and knows everything about this place. I asked him, and indeed there are officers who come to gather, but they are in the back of the bar, playing cards.”
“Card game? What rules? Is there a prize?” Fang Wen asked, realizing this was a good entry point.
“There’s a prize. I heard they play big, something called Skat, three people play, I’m not clear on the details.”
The first bar reconnaissance ended.
Some useful information was obtained; it was important to figure out the Skat poker rules.
January 18, Wednesday.
At lunchtime, Fang Wen and Lin Shuiwang went downstairs.
During the meal, Fang Wen asked: “Lena, do you know how to play Skat poker?”
Lin Shuiwang translated.
Lena replied: “Yes, my husband taught me, but it’s very complex.”
“Can you teach us?”
“Sure.”
Lena went back to her room and dug out a deck of playing cards.
After removing the jokers and 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, there were 32 cards total.
That is, each suit had only four number cards: 7, 8, 9, 10, and four letter cards: J, Q, K, A.
Lena explained the rules.
“When we play, each player gets 10 cards, with two cards left as bottom cards for the banker.”
“All cards total 212 points. Only the player with the highest hand score can bid to be banker; the other two oppose him.”
“A counts as 11 points, 10 as 10 points, K as 4, Q as 3, J as 2, number cards are face value.”
After Lena’s explanation, Fang Wen roughly understood how this poker game was played.
It was somewhat similar to Dou Dizhu, but more complex.
Bidding was like Dou Dizhu: banker’s priority was high score first> middle hand> last hand.
The banker controlled trump suit selection and had extra special rules like Schneider, Schwarz, and Offen.
Schneider: When the banker’s hand is super good, causing both opponents to not play any cards before the round ends. The banker gets an extra 30-point reward.
Schwarz: When the banker scores 30 or below and opponents win, that round is considered Schwarz. The banker compensates more points to both opponents.
Offen declaration: Similar to no trump in Sheng Ji, the banker chooses no suit as trump to play more favorably.
After hearing Lena’s explanation, Fang Wen roughly understood.
It felt a bit like Dou Dizhu and Sheng Ji, but with many different rules.
He needed practice to understand better.
Immediately, the three played Skat poker at the dining table on the first floor of the guesthouse.
After a full day of poker training, Fang Wen had a general grasp of the gameplay.
He felt he could give it a try.
So he waited until night and drove to the Frontbierstube again.
There were still many people in the beerhouse; Lin Shuiwang proactively approached Owen.
After some conversation, Owen hesitated, stood up, and whispered with the bartender.
After some negotiation, the bartender asked Lin Shuiwang.
“We’re not afraid of reports here. You can come play, but if you cause trouble,” the bartender made a throat-slitting gesture.
“We won’t.” Lin Shuiwang’s goofy demeanor relaxed the bartender, who then led the two through the passage behind the bar.
There was a whole other world behind the passage.
It was also filled with smoke.
Three tables, some playing, some watching.
Among these people, some were even wearing uniforms directly.
Fang Wen kept calm and walked over with Lin Shuiwang.
Their appearances drew the officers’ attention.
An officer who was playing cards looked up and asked: “Which country?”
“China.” Lin Shuiwang replied.
“And him?”
“Also Chinese, but he doesn’t speak German. I’m his translator.”
“Understand English?” The officer directly asked Fang Wen in English.
“I speak English.” Fang Wen replied, finally able to communicate without a translator.
“Here to play cards?” The officer continued asking.
“Yes, I just learned a bit of Skat poker.”
“Just learned a bit, you won’t win here.” The officer smiled and waved; a companion stood up to yield a seat: “But if you’re willing to pay tuition, I can teach you.”
Fang Wen smiled and sat down, “Thanks.”
Immediately, a new card game began.
Just as the officer thought, this card player from the East was not proficient in Skat poker.
But his plays were steady; he wouldn’t bid easily. Though he lost more than he won, he didn’t lose too much.
Even so, it made the officer very happy; he hadn’t won so satisfyingly in a long time.
For this reason, the officer and Fang Wen’s relationship warmed up.
When Fang Wen was leaving, he proactively asked: “Coming tomorrow?”
Fang Wen nodded, putting on a look of having lost money and wanting to win it back: “Definitely coming tomorrow.”
Five days passed in a row, with Fang Wen going to the Frontbierstube to play cards every night.
Basically losing 100-200 marks every night, about 40-plus US dollars.
This kind of player who only loses never wins became the most popular member in the beerhouse card games.
Everyone liked playing with him; the more they played, the more they’d chat about other things.
Through communication, Fang Wen learned the backgrounds of these card players.
They all came from the Berlin Defense Force Guard Brigade.
This troops had special significance; officers who had served there had chances to enter the Ministry of Defense.
But this year was different.
With the Nazi Party gaining power, the Prussian nobility officers overwhelmingly leaned toward the Nazis, leaving these ordinary officers without promotion paths.
Under the premise of bloodline supremacy, Prussian nobility officers were superior to them.
Therefore, many officers in similar situations felt uncertain about the future.
This gave Fang Wen a sense of opportunity.
But he couldn’t bring it up now; he had to wait for the perfect timing.
January 30.
All of Berlin was engulfed in carnival.
Large numbers of Nazi Party members and Stormtroopers in black clothing reveled and celebrated on the streets, with supporting crowds joining them.
Today, Little Mustache was elected Prime Minister of the Weimar Republic.
Though Prime Minister, in substance, Weimar Republic President Paul von Hindenburg had already handed power to Hitler.
This victory wasn’t something all Berliners would celebrate; in some places, drinking and cards continued.
Fang Wen put on his trench coat and went out with Lin Shuiwang.
The car kept stopping to make way for demonstration parades along the way, arriving at the Frontbierstube over half an hour later than usual.
He went down to the beerhouse, greeted the bartender, and went straight through the passage behind the bar to the underground card room.
There were still many officers there as usual.
These officers even complained: “Fang, why are you so late.”
Listening to Lin Shuiwang translate, Fang Wen smiled: “Today is a big day for your country, new Prime Minister takes office, streets full of celebrations, driving was inconvenient.”
But the officers didn’t follow Fang Wen’s topic; some were glum.
Fang Wen sat down, took over from a card player, and skillfully shuffled and dealt.
At the same time, he naturally asked: “Why aren’t you happy?”
“The Ministry of Defense is going to be completely reshuffled.” An officer blurted out.
This was a good opening; others chimed in with discussions.
They were from the Weimar Republic’s traditional military officer system and all believed they would be purged after the Nazis took power.
The timing had finally arrived; with Little Mustache taking office, it broke the officers’ last psychological defense. Fang Wen decided to test the waters.
“If that’s the case, better prepare early, or family members won’t have good days.”
Fang Wen didn’t mention the officers themselves but used their families as the entry point.
This approach would be more effective; everyone present had families.
Instantly, everyone’s faces changed; even the interest in playing cards vanished.
Compared to potential future hardships, wins and losses at the card table were nothing.
Seeing their expressions, Fang Wen put down his cards.
“I came to Berlin for a special purpose.”
This statement put the officers on alert, focusing their attention on Fang Wen.
“Not what you think. I’m a businessman, traveling countries, sole purpose is finding opportunities to purchase weapons and equipment to sell to countries that need them. You shouldn’t be strangers to this.”
Hearing Lin Shuiwang’s translation, everyone relaxed.
Turns out he’s an arms dealer; so what.
The English-speaking officer asked: “Then why not leave Berlin now? With the current situation, previously signed arms sale contracts can’t be fulfilled.”
“Yeah, I regret coming at this time too, but can’t return empty-handed. Since we’ve played cards so long, I can offer you a path to riches.”
Fang Wen slowly laid out the bait.
A path to riches from an arms dealer was nothing more than selling munitions.
These officers were moved.
“What do you want?” It was still the English-speaking officer asking.
“Some cheap weapons production lines, or munitions, bullets are fine. I don’t ask for much: inventory stuff or replaced equipment; other places will need them.”
Fang Wen stated his real purpose.
The officers discussed animatedly.
One of them said the crucial sentence.
“Rheinmetall’s infantry gun and mortar.”
At these words, Fang Wen and Lin Shuiwang felt nothing, but the officers’ faces changed.
From their reactions, Fang Wen realized the value.
He asked, “What do you mean?”
The officers hesitated but agreed to let that one explain.
“In ’27, Rheinmetall developed and produced a short-barreled gun, 75mm cannon. And the ’22 curved-fire cannon, 80mm cannon. These two weapons were never mass-produced. We can get the design blueprints and production process data to sell to you.”
Weapons from five and ten years ago, never mass-produced; Fang Wen suspected they might be defective. Even with design blueprints and production process data, they might not be useful.
But since they were so sincere, he had to take a look.
He casually stated his requirement: “I need to see more detailed information to decide on the transaction. By the way, how much do you want?”
The officers conferred and proposed the price.
“100,000 Reichsmarks.”
100,000 Reichsmarks, over 23,000 US dollars.
Fang Wen had that much advanced cash and could buy outright.
He agreed to the officers’ quotation but required seeing the information first before deciding to buy.
Two days later, February 2.
In the beerhouse board games room, Fang Wen saw information on the two weapons.
First, le. IG 18 75mm infantry gun.
From the information, the gun body structure was very simple,
needing two wheels; it could be easily towed by horse, car, or even manpower.
It was an infantry gun with wide application environments, capable of direct fire in street battles, plains, jungles, etc., and quick relocation with troops.
Fang Wen was immediately tempted.
This thing had simple structure, easy to manufacture, most suitable for current domestic army use.
It could be used for mobile tactics or set up in defensive positions to coordinate with heavy artillery for cross-depth firepower coverage.
Fang Wen looked at the specific data.
Cannon caliber: 75mm
Gun barrel length: 0.88 meters
Cannon weight: warhead 0.44 tons
Transport: horse-drawn 0.5 tons, motorized tow: 0.57 tons;
Cannon firing range（ horizontal）: 11 degrees
Cannon elevation angle（ vertical）: -10 to +75 degrees
Rate of fire: 8-12 rounds/minute;
Maximum range: 4600 meters
Effective range: 3550 meters.
After seeing the data, Fang Wen felt this was the perfect weapon pairing for field battle and guerrilla warfare.
Then he looked at the other information, and his pupils suddenly contracted.
