National Capitalism #6: Gaps in Information, Time, and Space—Not Something Easily Resolved
The gaps in information, time, and space were absolutely not something that could be easily bridged.
"Germany's pushing across the Somme," they said. Right now, in 1916, during the spring thaw.
"Perfect timing."
Right now, Russia was in the middle of its thaw too. Up north, down south—Rasputitsa was in full swing everywhere. At the very least, the Korean Empire—and its tanks—couldn't launch any offensives. Our supply lines were smack in the heart of that mud hell.
In winter, we couldn't head to the northern front because we feared the fuel freezing. In spring and fall, Rasputitsa stopped us from pushing against Germany. What a headache.
The German and Austrian forces in the center had pulled off a massive retreat after the Ottoman collapse, boldly falling back beyond the Carpathians. Guess they weren't monkeys after all.
At this rate, I'd have to wait until midsummer to intervene on the northern front. Neither the Baltic front in the south nor the Carpathian front in the center were suitable for tanks to cross. Push too hard, and the engines would give out.
That's why I'd tried to lure the Germans in as much as possible. But it was fine. I had no intention of sending manpower to the Russian front up north, but supplies? We were providing plenty. "We can't do more—go grab some popcorn."
The Western Front had already seen Korean ships depart. The starving Brits wouldn't push east, so after endless nagging to hand over this and that—hell, everything—I'd finally given in.
Of course, there was a price. They'd block the Netherlands' sinister attempt to reoccupy Indonesia. For indirect Korean involvement on the Western Front, it was a modest ask. But we got something out of it too, so it was a fair deal. More importantly, it was essential for setting the Korean Empire's future direction.
Koreans—soldiers included—needed to know where they were headed. If the Yankees went to sea, Korea had to aim for the skies.
Sure, we could bulldoze with tank armor now, but future maneuver warfare would rely on aviation too. In wartime, the number of working engines was mobility. Nothing new there.
Why else had I staked my life on rubber and oil? All to fly those planes. And for that, Koreans needed to see it wasn't just the Supreme Leader's lavish hobby. That way, investment would continue even in peacetime.
No joke. Otherwise, what's the difference between me and a dictator burning money in thin air? I'd fare worse than the Americans wasting cash on rockets to space.
The east had no room for airports, so balloons would do, but the west was different. Shipping those hidden planes there now was a rational move.
We could transplant their tech and experience. Plus, at this point, we had to offload what we could. Otherwise, they'd just be worthless inventory. Wooden planes? Straight out of World War I.
The Supreme Leader chewed his popcorn, pondering. But that wasn't the real issue. Wooden planes? Shove 'em in a museum.
The real problem was how the hell did they find out?
The Brits knew Korea was hot on aviation research. But they shouldn't know we had over 300 planes. Even at 10 per squadron, that's thousands—most buried in underground tunnels. How did they know?
Those were torpedo boat squadrons. Long disbanded and sold to Southeast Asia. Nazi—no, Supreme Leader's—secret weapons for when China or Japan teamed up with Britain or America against us.
Dubbed the Sparrow Operation, they were our fighters to seize air superiority against those damn Anglo-Americans obsessed with the same.
But how did they know? They demanded them since we weren't using them on the Eastern Front. Their spy network's reach into the Empire was unfathomable.
Maybe one of the recently purged comrades? Plausible. Quite a few of those vile ones from the purges ended up shipped to Britain forever.
If so, I'd meet that comrade again.
"Our shortages are becoming all too real."
Only certain things sold. Even with Europe's weak purchasing power, we slashed prices at Busan Port, but only select items flew off the shelves. And we weren't even taking cash—we wanted intelligence!
This fighter export deal let us snag some of Britain's hoarded military tech. Still, the gap between pioneer powers and latecomer Korea remained vast. We'd focused on primary education over higher ed, universal access over elite training. That tech chasm wouldn't close overnight.
Light industry, especially as it ramped up lately, was the worst. Sure, we'd grabbed some from Japan, but that just laid the basics. On the world stage, Japanese light industry was solidly second-rate.
I felt it firsthand. Stuff just wasn't selling.
I figured Britain wasn't sharing their real industrial know-how. France, the agrarian powerhouse, got wrecked by Germany—seed stocks and all—so we handed over everything. But industrial Britain? No way they were giving light industry secrets.
"Still, we have to sell the finished products."
Not selling them was already a loss. Raw materials, food—they'd sell without shoving live bodies into the warzone.
In my view, with America inexplicably shitting itself right now, this was prime time for industrial takeoff.
Having taken the risk already, do I need to take an even bigger one?
This choice might lead Korea down an irreversible path. The Soviet one. But for true industrial rise? Worth considering.
The ship's sailed anyway.
Why stop at planes? Sell other stuff too. Not just fighters to Britain—dump mines in the Atlantic, and Korean goods would sell.
Right now, Korea hadn't signed the Hague Convention. And mines—scattered mines—weren't covered by international law, aka that Hague thing we skipped.
So, selling floating mines en masse to the Atlantic? We'd get called bastards, but no legal violation.
As Supreme Leader saw it, next time, load those sub transports with mines instead of fighters, dump 'em in the Atlantic. That'd cripple their global industry chains hard.
The Atlantic's currents would keep them circling forever, sinking merchant ships.
And the blame? Germany would shoulder it. Beyond icebergs or sudden turns—if one popped up mid-Atlantic, who could prove Korean mines? Even if revealed, they'd squeeze easy prey defeated Germany over mighty Korea.
Especially if we claimed German conspiracy.
The risk? If truth surfaced. Claim they were anti-sub mines? Once they hit merchants, diplomatic isolation was inevitable.
We'd deny planting them first. If exposed as ours? "For Germans" means squat. Best excuse: "Couldn't trust you, wartime mess—not our fault."
Smacks of Soviet tactics. But smashing British trade while framing Germany and minimizing U.S. meddling? Bulletproof.
I'd eyed this since flouting international law. No innocents anyway—especially not Yankees.
But dirtying Korea's hands? That nagged.
Do it once, and twice, thrice follows. Yankees as fish food? Poetic justice for their overfishing. But Korea as a mine-scattering polluter? Felt off.
Even knowing the risk-reward favored it massively, something sat wrong. For a Supreme Leader treating governance as hobby, that mattered.
I'd lose the drive. I sensed it.
"We can take the harder path."
Easy roads aren't always right. If hard ones brought fulfillment, even better.
"Proceed with that joint venture they offered."
Il Duce—World War II's loser. But Italy under him, the weakest great power, had a surprisingly solid light industry base. Maybe they'd poured their lacking heavy industry and military into it.
Lately, riding wartime boom, he'd mimicked me, remaking Italy into a cooperative light industry state. Not going smoothly, but with my direct help? I could make it work.
Want rice over pasta? No problem. Home handicrafts mass-producing materials for factories to assemble? Doable.
Korea was shedding that somewhat, but the data lingered. We weren't ditching cooperatives forever.
We'll keep the cooperative state. Just shift from rigid communal ownership to freer markets.
Land and labor stay cooperative; loosen industry and agriculture for markets. Boosts salability.
Land and labor as commodities? Sure, but no export value. No need to liberalize—real estate and tutoring markets just balloon.
Land value up? Utility drops fast versus investment. No jobs created. Same for labor—national training? Cheaper to poach kids for corporate bootcamps. Jobs grow too.
I knew Italy's path perfectly. Data-backed; just no prior need.
I knew Gojong had hidden talents. Worked with him. But era's loser, stuck as figurehead. Competence aside, irredeemable flaws dominated.
Il Duce too. Talents there, but incompetence overshadowed. So I dismissed him.
But Italian light industry? Less than salvaging Britain's corpse, but useful potential.
Problem: Brits would love it.
Britain was riding the Duce coin wave. If Korea chased, they'd roll in joy. Not ideal.
Maybe just scatter the mines after all.