Dongfeng-01 Shows Its Power in the Middle East!

Chapter 99 Dongfeng-01 Shows Its Power in the Middle East!

In this way, the rain-fighting rockets can also form a factory-to-factory linkage with Ansteel.

Moreover, the launch pad can be built, which will be able to play a greater role in improving people's livelihoods, especially for crops in Northeast China.

Thinking about this, Jiang Fan couldn't help but feel that it was time to breed hybrid rice.

With the founding of the nation imminent, we must pay even closer attention to food supplies.

There's a saying, isn't there?

If grain prices rise by one cent, you can buy a Mercedes-Benz tomorrow; if grain prices rise by one dollar, the whole family will be eating purple eggs.

Rough words are not rough.

Northeast China is the country's granary, but right now, the grain yield on this black soil is still a long way from enough to feed everyone.

It should be noted that nearly 90% of these 450 million people are farmers, with a yield of only about 100 jin per mu.

If another drought, flood, or locust plague were to occur, widespread famine and death would be commonplace.

Immediately, Yuan Lao's knowledge came to mind:

The three-line system—sterile line, maintenance line, and restorer line—is interconnected and indispensable.

But these days, it seems that this kind of thing isn't so easy to implement.

The first issue is germplasm resources.

Back then, Yuan Longping found that naturally occurring male-sterile wild rice plant, "Wild Abortion," in Hainan, and it wasn't discovered until 1970.

It was only 1949. Let alone "wild abortion," even basic rice seed resources were scattered all over the country without systematic collection and screening.

Secondly, even with sterile lines, hybrid rice seed production still requires strict spatial isolation and meticulous artificial pollination.

This requires a complete field management system.

Currently, agriculture in Northeast China is still largely dependent on the weather.

Finally, there is the promotion cycle. From breeding to regional trials, and then to large-scale promotion, even if everything goes smoothly, it will take at least 3 to 5 generations. How many years this will take is still unknown.

But Jiang Fan is someone who doesn't believe in superstitions.

Yuan's knowledge told him that although Northeast China was the main production area of ​​japonica rice, there were precedents for hybrid japonica rice.

By introducing certain characteristics of southern indica rice through distant hybridization and then conducting multiple generations of backcrossing and selection, it is theoretically entirely possible to cultivate hybrid japonica rice combinations suitable for the climate of Northeast China.

Now that he had a method, Jiang Fan immediately spread out a sheet of paper and wrote down the details of the three-system matching system one by one.

The selection of sterile lines requires finding naturally occurring male-sterile plants and then maintaining their sterility through continuous backcrossing.

The maintainer line must be able to maintain sterility in its offspring after being crossed with the sterile line.

The restorer line aims to restore the sterile line to normal fertility and produce strong hybrid vigor.

These three systems are indispensable, but right now we don't have any of these basic materials.

"We still need to find a place first."

Jiang Fan closed the notebook to himself.

Fortunately, the arsenal was located in a desolate area with a large open space.

He fenced off a plot of land of about three or four acres, which had been abandoned for several years and overgrown with weeds, but the soil quality was still acceptable.

Jiang Fan spoke with Zhao Mengshan and then asked the logistics department to bring over a few hoes and bundles of bamboo poles.

Zhao Mengshan was completely bewildered when he saw that this dignified factory director was actually going to personally go down to the fields to farm.

"Director Jiang—Director Jiang, you—you're going back to the fields?"

Jiang Fan could only say that he was indeed worthy of being a deputy factory director; his words were indeed skillful.

However, he didn't explain much, only saying that he was going to do some agricultural experiments and that he didn't need to worry about him.

Although Zhao Mengsheng was full of doubts, seeing Jiang Fan's firm attitude, he stopped asking questions and even took the initiative to transfer two orderly soldiers over to help turn the soil.

Over the next few days, Jiang Fan spent all his spare time in that experimental field.

He followed the description of the single-plant selection method in Yuan Lao's knowledge.

First, the tilled land was divided into several small plots, and each plot was marked.

They also collected dozens of local rice varieties from nearby villagers, and planted, numbered, and recorded them one by one.

Most of those rice seeds were conventional varieties that farmers had saved themselves, and their traits varied. But in Jiang Fan's eyes, each plant was a potential breeding material.

He goes to the fields every morning, works in the workshop in between, and finishes work in the evening, watering, weeding, and observing the seeding process, recording everything in his notebook.

Of course, he also knew that this was just the beginning.

The breeding cycle for hybrid rice is measured in years. Whether the batch planted now will survive is still a question, since the rice planting season has already passed.

However, with the glass greenhouse, there's no need to worry about climate issues. The only hope is that after the harvest, a preliminary selection can be made.

The target single plant.

To truly cultivate a usable sterile line, continuous backcrossing and screening are required. This process cannot be rushed, but Jiang Fan has plenty of patience now.

About two weeks after Jiang Fan took office, Ansteel sent a telegram with a brief message:

The steel and engine components required for the first batch of rotorcraft have all been completed, totaling thirty sets. They have been loaded onto trucks and shipped to Shenyang, and are expected to arrive within two days. The arsenal is requested to check the receipt and organize final assembly as soon as possible.

After reading the telegram, Jiang Fan's lips curled into a slight smile.

Zhou Chunsheng is quite efficient.

This is also thanks to the gyroplane manufacturing plan, which he had completely handed over to them before he left, so it wasn't difficult.

"Thirty aircraft, thirty in the first batch. It seems the higher-ups are really going all out this time."

Jiang Fan muttered to himself, then found Shen Chun and said to her, "Section Chief Shen, the materials for the rotorcraft are almost here. I've already told you about the final assembly drawings; please go through them again."

"We also need to pay attention to personnel grouping, workstation arrangement, and tool list, so we don't end up in a panic when the goods arrive."

Since Jiang Fan became the director of the arsenal, he has explained all the outstanding issues left over from Anshan Iron and Steel Group to the cadres of the arsenal in detail, so Shen Chun also knew about them.

Hearing that we actually have the opportunity to assemble our own airplanes has made us excited.

Upon receiving the order, they immediately began to take action.

In terms of site, the large factory building on the west side has already been cleared out, which is enough to operate two production lines.

In terms of manpower, six people were transferred from the technical department, and ten welders and riveters were transferred from the workshop. Shen Chun personally trained them before they were put to work.

As for the container rockets, they haven't been neglected either; they're still being modified in full swing according to the blueprints.

Meanwhile, thousands of miles away on the east bank of the Suez Canal, the flames of war are raging.

The first Middle East war has lasted for a full year.

The Arab Liberation Army, a coalition of Arab forces, suffered repeated defeats against the Israel Defense Forces.

The Israelis have the United States behind them, with M4 Sherman tanks, P-51 Mustang fighter jets, a large number of M1+ RAND rifles, and ample ammunition supplies.

The equipment in the hands of the Arab coalition forces consisted mostly of old relics left over from the British colonial era.

The Lee-Enfield rifle fires one shot and pulls the bolt, but the armored vehicles are so thin that even a rifle can penetrate them. The artillery only has a few 75mm field guns from World War I, and they don't even have enough shells.

Today, the dawn of ceasefire negotiations has yet to appear, but the battle line has already pushed into the Gaza Strip.

The headquarters of the Arab coalition was located in an Ottoman fortress near Rafah. The commander was named Mohammed Najib, an Egyptian brigadier general with a full beard and a very tired look in his eyes.

He hasn't had a full night's sleep in a long time.

"General, news has arrived from the port."

"Mr. Guilliman's shipment has arrived."

Upon hearing this, Najib immediately stood up, looked at the adjutant, and said excitedly.

"Arrived? All of them?"

"A total of one thousand missiles, plus thirty sets of launch tubes and supporting equipment."

"Mr. Guilliman said that this thing is called Dongfeng-01, it is made in China, it is easy to operate and has great power."

Najib grabbed the port permit and read it word by word, his chest heaving.

He was very familiar with Guilliman.

South African arms dealers are extremely well-connected and have very powerful connections, specializing in supplying weapons to those forces that cannot buy weapons from Europe and the United States.

He had previously ordered a batch of weapons from Guilliman, which were touted as being able to "change the course of the war," just to give it a try. He never expected that the other party would actually deliver the goods on time.

"Quickly! Organize people to unload the cargo immediately and transport it to the front lines overnight."

Najib, his voice hoarse, roared at his adjutants, "Tell Colonel Ali that I want to see this thing on the southern flank of Gaza before dawn tomorrow."

"Yes, sir!"

At dawn the next day, on the positions of the 3rd Infantry Division of the Arab coalition forces on the southern flank of Gaza.

Colonel Ali, in his forties, had trained at the Royal Military Academy in the UK.

He was squatting next to a launch tube, frowning as he examined the tin can with a tail fin at the bottom.

The soldiers nearby also looked bewildered.

They had never seen such a weapon before. It had no rifling, no sight, and not even a proper firing mechanism; there was only a fuse protruding from the base of the tail fin.

They looked at the instruction manual from China, and the only thing they could understand was "Made in China" at the bottom, followed by...

I'm a bit confused.

Colonel Ali threw the instruction manual aside and asked his adjutant, who had just delivered the package, "What did the General say?"

The adjutant replied in a panic, "The general said that this thing is like setting off fireworks. You just put the can into the bucket, light the fuse, and wait about twenty meters away."

"That's it?" Colonel Ali pointed to the fuse.

"No need for even aiming?"

"Yes, they said it wasn't necessary because the explosive charge is large enough, and the kill radius is fifty meters. An error of a dozen meters or so wouldn't affect the effect at all."

Alibaba employees were skeptical, but they had no better option at the moment.

The Israeli position was just 300 meters away, a defensive line made of sandbags and prefabricated steel plates by the US military, with at least four heavy machine gun positions.

The shelling had been going on all night, and the Arab coalition forces had suffered heavy casualties. If it dragged on any longer, the Israeli armored forces would be able to flank them after dawn.

"Load the ammunition and fire two rounds to test it out."

Colonel Ali gritted his teeth, and the soldiers immediately shoved a Dongfeng-01 missile into the launch tube, adjusted the elevation angle, and guided the fuse out of the tube.

Colonel Ali personally lit the fuse, retreated behind the bunker, and held his breath.

The fuse hissed and burned, and about five seconds later, a muffled thud exploded from the top of the launch tube. The metal canister flew out with a piercing scream, arcing through the air before striking precisely in the center of the Israeli position.

A small mushroom cloud rose into the air, and then the world was silent for half a second.

"boom!"

Immediately afterwards, a fireball rose from the ground, and the shockwave carried sand, gravel, and metal fragments in all directions.

The precast steel plates erected by the US military were torn to pieces, and the heavy machine guns, along with their gunners, were thrown more than ten meters away.

An M-3 half-track vehicle behind the position was overturned by the blast wave, and its side was riddled with holes by debris.

The echoes of the explosion lingered on the battlefield for a full five or six seconds before gradually fading away.

Colonel Ali peeked out from behind the bunker, staring blankly at the still-smoking, charred ruins, unable to utter a single word for a long time.

The soldiers behind him stared wide-eyed, as if they had witnessed a miracle.

My God—

A soldier, his hand on his forehead, clasped together in prayer position.

"What exactly is this thing?"

At that moment, Colonel Ali smirked, turned around, and roared.

"Continue loading, load all launchers, target the second firing point on the left flank."

Over the next two hours, the Arab coalition used thirty launchers to fire a total of two hundred Dongfeng-01 missiles.

Israel's painstakingly fortified defensive line was riddled with holes, all four heavy machine gun positions fell silent, and the engines of two Sherman tanks were damaged by the secondary thermo-pressure effect of the tanks, allowing the crews to abandon the vehicles.

Even an ammunition supply depot at the rear was hit by a veerging canister, triggering a chain of explosions.

The Israeli commander was completely bewildered. He had no idea where this devastating firepower from the sky came from, and even suspected that the Arab coalition had acquired the Soviet Katyusha rocket launchers.

The tide of battle turned completely in just one morning. The Arab coalition seized the opportunity to launch a counter-offensive, recapturing the three previously lost positions in one fell swoop and pushing the front line back to its starting position.

Upon receiving the battle report at headquarters, General Najib was so excited that he danced with joy and immediately ordered all remaining Dongfeng-01 missiles to be deployed.

All of them were distributed to front-line troops, and commanders of each unit were required to master the operating procedures as soon as possible.

But the problem soon became apparent: a thousand rounds may sound like a lot, but in this intensity of combat, they were consumed faster than bullets. In just three days, more than seven hundred rounds were destroyed on the battlefield, and the remaining two hundred or so were scattered across various positions.

They dared not use it for a moment, fearing that the Israelis would know that their firepower was insufficient.

Najib immediately contacted Guilliman through his own means.

"Mr. Guilliman, your goods are indeed as effective as you promised, but we need more, at least two thousand. Please arrange shipment immediately. We can discuss the price."

Upon hearing this on the other end of the radio, Guilliman remained silent for a few seconds before slowly replying.

"General, thank you for your recognition."

"However, I must remind you that the transportation costs for the last shipment far exceeded my expectations."

"From China to the Middle East, one had to bypass the British maritime blockade and deal with the greedy customs officials in the ports of various countries along the way."

"My risk costs have skyrocketed, so if I want to place additional orders, the price must be adjusted to thirty pounds per piece, no lower."

"If you agree, I can arrange production immediately."

Najib said almost without hesitation: "Thirty pounds it is, two thousand pounds, the deposit remains the same."

Guilliman laughed, but didn't hang up immediately.

He sat in a smoke-filled office near the port of Beirut, his gaze fixed on a photograph on the corner of the desk.

It was a heavy-duty agricultural off-road tractor with thick armor and wide tracks. The circular flange interface on the top of the vehicle was clearly visible, with a line of small print next to it: "Compatible with a variety of additional devices. Please refer to the instruction manual for details."

Guilliman picked up the photograph, examined it closely under the light for a moment, and then said, "General, I have something else that you'll find even more interesting after you see it."

"A versatile agricultural engineering vehicle that can go off-road, transport troops, mount machine guns, and even fix a gun mount on the chassis to fire Dongfeng-01 missiles, turning it into a mobile firepower platform."

"If you're interested, we can discuss the price in detail—"

There was a two-second silence on the other end of the phone, followed by Najib's excited voice.

"Mr. Guilliman, you always manage to surprise me."

"Send me the sample as soon as possible. If it's really as you say, we can discuss this deal properly."