Defend Namsan Park

Chapter 108 A Good Machine Tool, Made in the Soviet Union

Before Wang Xiangbing and Li Wenxuan even entered, they were greeted by the stale, solidified scent of time that wafted through the air: dried black engine oil, peeling red rust, glaring welding sparks, and sweat-soaked white vests. Wang Xiangbing was very sensitive to this smell; the moment the tiny odor molecules in the air came into contact with the receptors on his nasal mucosa, they stimulated his hippocampus, triggering memories of days like these in certain years.

The two stepped into the red-brick factory and exclaimed in unison.

Wow!

Inside, a huge factory fifty meters deep was filled with neat rows of gray-green machining equipment. Wang Xiangbing and Li Wenxuan walked through them, reaching out to touch the cold machinery. The old equipment was visible to the naked eye, as if walking through the pits of the Terracotta Army of Qin Shi Huang. But what was amazing was that it was well maintained. The cutting edges of the lathes were even oiled and shiny.

A vertical machine tool, over two meters tall, stood on the ground. Its lead-gray casing, circular worktable a meter in diameter, and two tool holders were all gleaming to the touch. Beside this behemoth was a sign, which Wang Xiangbing carefully read:
"Ordinary vertical lathe, manufactured by Qiqihar Machine Tool Plant, People's Republic of China, machine tool model C523, manufacturing date July 1966..."

"The maximum workpiece rotation diameter is 2300 mm, and the maximum workpiece height is 850 mm."

Li Wenxuan walked on the other side, passing a single-arm planer, more than three meters long and taller than a person, a typical heavy machine. The thing was originally painted green, but now the paint was cracked, but the fine metal threads still shone with a silver luster. In the gray-black sludge, there was an embossed nameplate: "Made by Jinan No. 9 Machine Tool Factory of the People's Republic of China, Model B1010A, Production Date September 1965."

Liu Guoqing's voice rang out behind them:
"This is actually a museum. It was a museum when the school was still there. Every piece of equipment here is a cultural relic, and it has been around for many years."

"Why build a museum filled with machine tools?" Li Wenxuan asked.

“It’s a memorial to the Third Front construction, right?” Wang Xiangbing said. “Xuanzi, some of the equipment here is as old as my dad; they’re all veterans.”

"Although it's old, it's well maintained." Liu Guoqing stroked the machine tool's casing affectionately. "Although the unit has closed down, a few of us old guys stayed behind. We clean and oil them regularly, hoping they'll come in handy someday."

Wang Xiangbing and Li Wenxuan slowly strolled and inspected the factory. They were pleasantly surprised and full of admiration. They carefully touched the plaques and whispered the words on them, as if praising their glorious history and achievements.

"Ordinary lathe, manufactured by Shanghai Heavy Machine Tool Plant of the People's Republic of China, model C61100, production date February 1977."

"Gear hobbing machine, manufactured by Chongqing Machine Tool Factory of the People's Republic of China, model Y3180H, production date August 1980."

The newest piece of equipment on display is a TC611C digital display horizontal boring machine, manufactured by Hanchuan Machine Tool Factory of the People's Republic of China in August 1989. It is exactly thirty years old now. When it rolled off the production line in Hanchuan thirty years ago, Wang Xiangbing was in fourth grade and Li Wenxuan was in first grade. US President Reagan left office that year, and China had just begun its reform and opening up.

"Xuanzi, here's a 50mm radial drilling machine. Guess who made it?" Wang Xiangbing patted the equipment in front of him, as if he were patting an old friend on the shoulder.

Li Wenxuan stood across from the factory, glanced at the drilling machine, and shook his head: "Which company?"

“The Sino-Czech Friendship Factory, model Z35, manufactured in November 1965,” Wang Xiangbing said. “In 1965, Czechoslovakia hadn’t split up yet; it was still called the Czechoslovak Socialist Republic, and we were still exporting revolution to Third World countries.” “The country is gone, but it’s still here,” Li Wenxuan said.

"It's all support from socialist brother countries. Look at this horizontal milling machine, made in Hungary, model UF222, manufactured in 1967."

Wang Xiangbing finds it hard to imagine how many people have touched the places he has touched, or how many people have walked the places he has walked. He may be the last person in human history to use these devices, which were once used to manufacture cars, tractors, tanks and fighter jets. Now, they are coming to the end of their history.

The oldest piece of equipment on site is a 6M13П vertical milling machine, made in the Soviet Union, which Brezhnev sent to China.

“Xuanzi, look at this cutting edge. Do you believe it? It might have been used to produce the J-6 fighter jet.” Wang Xiangbing pressed his palm against the cold outer shell of the milling machine. “Now it will be used to manufacture giant machines.”

Li Wenxuan squatted down beside him and gently tapped its shell with his knuckles, producing a dull metallic sound.
"When they were created, they certainly didn't expect this day to come. Do you think this is lucky or unlucky?"

"It is their good fortune and our misfortune," Wang Xiangbing said. "It is also their misfortune and our good fortune."

"Director Wang, Director Li, do you have enough manpower?" Liu Guoqing asked loudly from the factory gate.

“We have enough manpower. There are hundreds of employees in the workshop, all of them young and strong men,” Wang Xiangbing replied loudly. “As long as I give an order or make a phone call, I can bring a truckload of bread makers over and take over the factory immediately.”

“The equipment here is old enough to be their father,” Li Wenxuan said in a low voice. “Are you sure they can get up to speed quickly? We don’t want any safety accidents.”

Li Wenxuan's concerns were not unfounded. While the workers in Workshop 112 were indeed elite, they were used to operating top-of-the-line advanced brands such as DMG MORI, Trumpf, EMAG, Sleiflin, Okuma, Sodick, and Beijing Jingdiao, representing the highest level of human expertise in the field of mechanical processing. Now, bringing them here and handing them equipment produced in the Soviet Union, Hungary, Changzheng Machine Tool Plant, Sino-Czech Friendship Factory, and Qiqihar Machine Tool Plant would be problematic. Their inability to operate the equipment would be secondary; the real issue would be an accident—safety in production is paramount and should always be the bottom line, no matter when or where.

Wang Xiangbing thought about it and realized that this made sense. Nobody knew how to operate it; even he didn't know how, so there was no way to teach him.

"Xuanzi, I heard you have an eighth-level fitter's certificate."

"Who the hell told you that?" Li Wenxuan shrank back. "I'm warning you, don't give me any work. This is no joke."

Seeing their predicament, Liu Guoqing clapped his hands forcefully towards the gate and shouted:
"Brother Sun! Brother Zhou! Sister Wu! Come in, all of you!"

Wang Xiangbing and Li Wenxuan were startled and stood up, turning their heads to look. They saw a team of uniformed people stepping into the factory gate under the sunlight. At that moment, Wang Xiangbing seemed to see himself many years later, and the future operations team. They were majestic and imposing, with a powerful aura and vigorous spirit. They were wielding all kinds of weapons and possessed all kinds of martial arts skills. On October 17, 2018, in a remote corner forgotten by the human world, an elite force forgotten by human society returned to its battlefield.

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(Author's note: Happy Lantern Festival everyone!)