Comrade, your ingredients are too complicated.

Half an hour later, the snow was still falling.

A ZIS-101 sedan slowly drove along the rugged road, its dim beam of light piercing through the thick snow curtain woven by the blizzard, illuminating the faint outline of a sentry post ahead.

Before long, the headquarters of the Second Military District of the Far East gradually came into view amidst the blizzard.

The walls, watchtowers, and armed sentries were all frozen into silent silhouettes in the wind and snow, with only the stark white blades of searchlights tearing back and forth in the flying snow.

As the car approached the cordon, it gradually slowed down and eventually stopped in front of the gate.

The sentry stepped forward and saluted. Makarov, on the other hand, rolled down the car window, silently handed over the documents, and said nothing.

"Lieutenant General, General Purkayev is waiting for you in the underground command post."

After carefully checking the identification, the sentry stepped back two steps, stood at attention, and saluted.

The iron gate slowly opened, and the car drove in. The snow under the wheels was compacted, leaving two clear tracks, but it was quickly covered by fresh snow.

"Hey."

After a sigh that carried too many unspeakable words, Makarov opened the car door and walked towards the granite fortress that had been converted from the former governor's residence in the Russian Far East.

The distance between the fortress entrance and the underground command post wasn't far, but in the short hundred-meter passageway, Old Ma's steps felt as heavy as if he were stuck in a swamp.

Simply because, as a diplomat, he always felt he hadn't done enough.

"Three months, a full three months have passed, and you still haven't figured out the Japanese defenses in the border area. If this were the Eastern Front, you guys would have been prisoners of war in a pincer movement long ago!"

"Let me emphasize again, the Winter-42 exercise is a plan devised by Comrade SDL, and it is our most important military operation at this stage."

“If any department or link fails again, I will personally find the person in charge and then give him a train ticket to Stalingrad.”

As soon as he reached the entrance of the underground command post, Makarov was met with a series of reprimands in dialect and slang.

To be honest, Old Ma's current superior is not easy to get along with. After all, the other party is a commander who was in the same period as Zhukov and Rokossovsky and is a veteran who participated in World War I, the Red and White War, the Polish campaign, and the Battle of Kiev.

Working with someone of this caliber would be incredibly stressful for anyone.

Considering the need to remain calm during the upcoming meeting, Makarov paused for a moment before pushing open the cold, blast-proof door. The moment he opened it, acrid smoke immediately enveloped his breath.

Seeing his chief of staff arrive to report for duty, General Pulkaev first waved his hand, signaling those without general's stars on their shoulders to leave first.

After the clearing operation was successfully completed, he took out a telegram from his drawer and then said in a serious tone, getting straight to the point:

"A call from Coldwind City: a major incident has occurred at the front recently. We have lost the Karachi crossing once again, and Stalingrad is very likely to fall."

After speaking, Pulkaev gripped the telegram paper tightly, his knuckles pressing deep marks into the General Staff's official letterhead. Clearly, he hadn't expected the Germans, after a year and a half of bloody fighting, to still be able to unleash such astonishing combat power.

Makarov suddenly looked up: "When did this happen? What's the specific battle report?"

"Two hours ago, the 62nd Army Headquarters sent its last telegram: the Germans have captured all the crossings." A major general staff officer handed over the document, his hands trembling violently. "Comrade Chuikov's fate is unknown."

"Our Uranus operation is likely to fail."

Upon hearing this, the underground command room fell into a deathly silence, as if time itself had frozen at that moment.

Karachi, located on the Don River, is one of the most important transportation hubs connecting Stalingrad with the rear.

If the Germans occupy this area, they can cut off the supply lines, thereby encircling Stalingrad and turning the entire Eastern Front war in their favor.

This was a major event that would affect the western front of Europe, North Africa, and even the Pacific theater. How could the commanders in the underground command center not be shocked?

After a moment, Makarov finally broke the silence. He stared at the jagged lines on the Eastern Front map and asked the most crucial question incisively.

"Can anyone tell me what's going on at the front?"

"At the beginning of November, Operation Uranus was progressing smoothly and rapidly. We had even managed to choke Paulus's Sixth Army!"

"But only a little over a month has passed, why has the war situation deteriorated to such an extent?"

At this point, Makarov, overcome with emotion, suddenly sprang to his feet and slammed his remaining hand heavily onto the battle map, causing the thumbtacks to fall to the ground.

Just as Old Ma's chest heaved violently as he prepared to grab the classified documents on the table, General Pulkaev grabbed his arm and quickly revealed the specific intelligence.

"The setback of Operation Uranus was the result of a confluence of strategic factors. These included the decisiveness of the enemy's supreme commander, Abwell's victory on the intelligence battlefield, and the pragmatic revision of political decisions by the German leader."

"But the most lethal weapon was the enemy's air force, and their brand-new armored vehicles."

As is well known, the greedy and arrogant Meyer and Hermann Göring, who overcame his drug addiction and made a comeback, were two completely different people.

Since Göring regained command of the LW, the German Air Force has achieved a series of major technological breakthroughs in just six months.

These dazzling new technologies have not only solidified their leading position in traditional areas of strength, but also rapidly narrowed the gap with their competitors in areas where they were once lagging behind, and even surpassed them in some aspects.

Take this battle as an example.

It was precisely because the latest Bf-109 and Fw-190 aircraft firmly controlled the airspace of the theater that the 12 Stuka dive bomber squadrons were able to carry out wave strikes day and night.

Meanwhile, the newly commissioned four-engine heavy transport aircraft successfully provided ample aerial resupply to the besieged Paulus Group.

The perfect combination of these technological advantages allowed the Third German army to regain the strategic initiative on the Stalingrad front. In a sense, Göring's Longwalls truly deserve the greatest credit for this phase of the campaign.

······
When intelligence clearly indicated that the front lines were in a passive position due to the overall inferiority of the air force, Makarov was filled with deep self-blame.

He could not forgive himself for failing to broker the Lend-Lease Act with the Eighth Route Army. The resentment and storm fighters that should have been soaring over Stalingrad had now become an obsession that lingered in his mind.

Seemingly anticipating Old Ma's thoughts, General Pulkaev's gaze lingered for a moment between his subordinate's convulsing limbs and the crumpled telegram, before he spoke words of comfort:

"Alright, you don't need to blame yourself too much. After all, a few months ago, the Eighth Route Army couldn't even produce a complete prototype. How could Comrade SDL possibly agree to their demands?" "Besides, we are allies with the same ideology. We can discuss anything."

"See, the opportunity has come!"

After speaking, Pulkaev reached for the bottom drawer of his desk with his calloused hand.

With a screeching sound from the metal slide rails, he threw a document, still smelling of ink, onto the table. The cover bore the red stamp of the Khabarovsk Radio Monitoring Center.

“Here, take a look. This is an unencrypted plaintext telegram that Snow Sparrow received forty minutes ago.”

Just as Makarov's trembling fingers were scanning the telegram line by line, the chandelier in the underground command post suddenly began to sway. He glanced at it out of the corner of his eye and saw that the staff officers were climbing ladders and slowly removing the entire wall of the Eastern Front operation map.

As the old map, covered in pencil marks, was rolled up, a brand-new military map of Hebei, Chahar, Rehe, and Liaoning was gradually unfolded under the light.

On the map, the red arrows symbolizing the Eighth Route Army's offensive are particularly eye-catching, like tempered bayonets plunging straight from North China into western Liaoning.

The black defensive belt of the Japanese Kwantung Army resembled a torn fishing net, appearing fragmented and jagged in the area from Jinzhou to Chifeng.

Seeing that his chief of staff had finished reading the entire plaintext telegram, Pulkaev picked up his pointer, drew an arc on the map, and slammed the metal tip heavily on the border between Chahar and Hebei.

"Comrades, look here, this is the Chahar Province and Hebei Province of the Republic of China."

"Based on the information we have now, our allies will most likely annihilate the remaining forces of the entire North China Front Army by early February next year, thereby recovering all of North China."

"If you were the commanders of the Eighth Route Army, would your troops choose to rest and reorganize in place, or would you press on and continue the attack?"

These words immediately sparked a chorus of discussions within the underground command post.

The staff officers' fingers moved rapidly across the map, pencils clattering against their rulers. Almost everyone chose to continue the attack; after all, resting in place would only give the Kwantung Army time to prepare, and nobody would be so naive as to charge straight into the fortress complex.

To put it bluntly, I can't beat Druid 3 when I'm at a disadvantage, but when I'm winning, how could I not easily crush the Japanese team?

As the staff officers' argument subsided, Pulkaev tapped the war table three times with his knuckles. Once the room was quiet, he addressed Old Ma directly:
"Makarov, you are more familiar with the Eighth Route Army's operational thinking than Comrade Chuikov. In your opinion, besides the conventional deployment of frontal advance, where else will our allies prepare surprises for the Japanese?"

Upon hearing this, a figure flashed through Old Ma's mind, and even the drunken rant of "vodka is nothing" echoed clearly in his ears.

With this thought in mind, Makarov simply drew a circle on the peninsula's defense line with a pencil, and thoughtfully marked it with the words "1st Marine Brigade".

Clearly, Pulkaev was very satisfied with his chief of staff's strategic vision. Nodding, he raised his pointer and praised him:

"That's right. If I were the commander of the Eighth Route Army's eastward advance campaign, I would definitely send Major General Li's troops to penetrate deep behind enemy lines, putting the Japanese Kwantung Army in a predicament of being attacked from both the front and the rear."

"So the question is, what kind of help can we offer our allies in this battle?"

Before the staff could react, Pulkaev raised his pointer and struck the area where Khabarovsk and Hail were located several times.

Facing the astonished gazes of his staff, he went straight to the point and presented a plan.

"What are the advantages of the Japanese Kwantung Army now? In terms of firepower, even their Class A divisions are several levels weaker than the Eighth Route Army. In terms of mobility, their allies' motorized and mechanized units can outrun them."

"Not to mention the air force, the most advanced air force in the world right now is probably the Eighth Route Army. The only advantage the Japanese have at this stage is their manpower."

"If we conduct large-scale exercises within the military district, how many divisions will Yoshijiro Umezu deploy to keep an eye on us? If we conduct exercises on the island, will the Hokkaido region become tense?"

At this point, Pulkaev stopped there.

Although everyone present knew that their allies neither needed nor permitted them to send troops without authorization, who said they couldn't conduct exercises on their own turf?

Our ally is indebted to this favor.

As for whether Japan will protest or bring up the neutrality treaty?

Tsk, you Japanese should take a look at yourselves. How many treaties have we unilaterally torn up? What's the point of signing treaties? Isn't it so that we can tear them up one day?

After everyone had digested their own plans, Pulkaev turned his attention to Old Ma.

“Makarov, Comrade SDL is already aware of the plan I just mentioned. Next, I will send you to Wanquan to negotiate further Lend-Lease legislation with our allies.”

"You can decide the specifics of the negotiations yourself, just make sure you get more benefits for the country."

"If you happen to see an old friend, remember to cultivate a closer relationship with him. After all, the whole world knows that allies have a lot of hidden treasures up their sleeves."

"Yes! Promise to complete the mission!"

······
At 11 p.m. on December 31, 1942, at the foot of Yinshan Mountain, at the Weapons Experimentation and Research Bureau.

Late at night, Huang He, who had been busy all day, finally calmed down and fell asleep in his bed. But he hadn't been asleep for long when three dull knocks on the door pulled him up.

"Boom, boom, boom!"

"Chief, it's an emergency, Captain Wang is here to pick you up."

A short while later, Captain Wang Hai entered, led by his orderly.

While Huang He was getting dressed, he took the opportunity to tell the whole story, including the speculations of the bigwigs at headquarters.

Upon learning that it was a buyer who had come to his door, Mr. Huang immediately perked up.

He took out a stack of design drawings in front of his colleagues, and the cover clearly read "Jet Fighter: CXP-1001".

Seeing Captain Wang's hesitant expression, Huang He's lips curled into a smile, and then he teased him in a joking tone:
"You're not still reminiscing about that MiG-15 with nine soul rings, are you? You just didn't get enough of flying it in your past life."

"This CXP-1001 is China's first domestically designed jet fighter, and it even uses the same engine as the MiG. In practical terms, it's also a MiG-15." (End of Chapter)