Chapter 101
Chapter 101
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 101
Chapter Title: German Empire Broadcasting (1)
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"So, this is that radio thing you've been working on for years, eh, Hans?"
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"It's pretty big."
Wilhelm II examined the radio from every angle with keen interest.
As the Kaiser had noted, this radio wasn't the compact audio-player size people might imagine. At a glance, it looked like a dresser drawer—massive.
It was a limitation of the technology, inherent to early vacuum-tube radios.
To make it smaller, vacuum-tube tech would need major advances, or transistors—what some called semiconductors—would have to be invented.
Transistors wouldn't appear until after World War II, developed by America's Bell Labs. Even with Tesla here, current tech couldn't touch them.
"So, you have a request regarding this radio?"
"Yes. I'd like full authority over radio broadcasting in Germany, along with permission to establish a broadcasting association."
"Broadcasting. Across all of Germany?"
I nodded, and Wilhelm II twirled his Kaiser's mustache, lost in thought.
Then, as if he found it a splendid idea, the corners of his mouth lifted.
"That means I could deliver my speeches to every German without traveling everywhere."
"Of course, Your Majesty. Plus, it would greatly help shape public opinion in directions beneficial to the German Empire."
Not the best example, but the mustache dictator and his propagandist Goebbels had used radio as their weapon too.
Nothing beats mass media for propaganda and agitation.
"Very well. I'll grant you full authority over radio broadcasting in the German Empire. Let's see you make it work."
"Thank you, Your Majesty!"
With his ready approval, I bowed deeply, unable to hide my grin.
Now, radio broadcasting rights in the German Empire were mine.
No one could broadcast in Germany without my permission.
And since I held the patents, other European nations couldn't escape my influence either.
America was different—I'd handed radio rights there to JP Morgan—but he wanted to stay on good business terms with me, so he wouldn't cross me lightly.
"Speaking of which, you've already started production, right?"
"Yes. We've built the factory and hired workers; production is underway."
For reference, this factory used a conveyor-belt assembly line.
Ford famously pioneered it, but that was in 1913—too long to wait.
I couldn't just blindly push "no conveyor belts" and force other companies to adopt them either.
So, I'd demonstrate results here first, then use the data to persuade Germany's industry—especially auto makers like Benz and Daimler.
Time to think about tanks soon, too.
Swift conveyor adoption could supercharge Germany's auto industry—a win-win.
But tanks were a much bigger deal than submachine guns; I'd need extensive talks with the military. I couldn't rush solo.
For now, wrap up radio solidly.
"Long time no see, Mr. Morgan. You arrived sooner than expected."
"I couldn't sit still after hearing the radio was complete."
A few days later, JP Morgan—visiting from New York—flashed a bright smile.
But even as he greeted me, his eyes stayed glued to the radio behind me, like a dog eyeing chicken on the table.
"Is this the radio?"
"Yes. Want to hear it?"
"Oh? It's already broadcasting?"
"We've built facilities in Berlin for radio experiments."
"Ah."
"Just say the word, and we can do a test broadcast right away."
JP Morgan nodded at my words.
He wanted to see for himself.
I phoned the operator, asking to connect to Berlin's radio station—the world's first.
A staffer there responded promptly to my call, and soon a human voice crackled from the radio.
"Ooooh!"
JP Morgan's eyes sparkled like a child's as he let out a gasp.
True to the finance world's demon king, his awe wasn't pure wonder at the era-changing invention—it brimmed with greed for the dollars and gold it would bring.
I could almost hear his hallucinated shout: "I love money!"
"Gotta build factories in America right away. No—too slow. Import from Germany for now. You've started production, right?"
"Of course."
"Ah! Fast action—I love it. A perfect business partner is exactly someone like you, Baron."
Spittle flying as he praised me.
If radio flopped?
Would JP Morgan even treat me like a human?
"I'll be busy back home. Haha!"
"Same here. Gotta set up stations before selling radios."
"Government already squared away?"
JP Morgan looked mildly surprised.
How'd I get approval so fast?
Simple answer.
"No need for government permits. Convincing His Majesty suffices."
"Heh. Proud American democrat here, but I envy the German Empire sometimes. Headache just thinking about arguing with bureaucrats."
He muttered grumpily, face sour at the mere idea.
America would require convoluted procedures for exclusive rights.
President was trust-busting Teddy Roosevelt, after all.
"Still, easy for you, Mr. Morgan?"
"Sure, but annoying's annoying. Might cost some money—peanuts compared to radio profits."
Worth the price for bigger gains.
Classic Morgan.
"Well, I've seen the radio with my own eyes, so I'll head out."
"Already?"
"Came to Europe for Swiss business; squeezed in Germany."
"Makes sense. Busy man."
"So, happily taking my leave. Oh—station name decided?"
"Yes."
Nothing brilliant came to mind, so I picked casually.
"DRR."
German Empire Broadcasting (Deutsche Reich Rundfunk).
The name of Germany's—and the world's—first broadcasting station, etched in history.
"Come on, folks, take a look before you go!"
"Huh?"
Dietrich, an ordinary Berliner, tilted his head at the voice on his way home from work.
Peering closer, he saw a hawker promoting goods in the shopping district.
He'd ignore it normally, but he froze in place.
A crowd swarmed the hawker—whatever it was, it drew them in.
Might as well check it out.
Intrigued, Dietrich wove through to the hawker.
Not because of the pretty girls assisting him. Nope.
"Ladies and gentlemen, feast your eyes on the latest German invention that'll stun the world: the ra-di-o!"
"Radio?"
The unfamiliar name sparked curiosity in their eyes.
Looked like furniture—what's the fuss?
With interest peaked, the hawker grinned and pointed.
"Curious what it does? Invented by famed Nikola Tesla—this lets you sit home and hear news, music, sports live!"
"Ooh~"
Unthinking admiration escaped the crowd.
But skeptical glances lingered too.
The hawker welcomed the doubt with open arms.
"Some doubt it—no such machine exists yet. So, I'll prove it right here, no lies!"
He signaled; the beauties beside him powered it on, tuned the dial.
Classic music poured from the radio.
Ludwig van Beethoven's "Für Elise"—unmistakable to any German.
Mouths agape—no phonograph—music endless from the box. Dietrich gawked too.
"And that's not all. One month from now, German Empire Broadcasting DRR officially launches—daily fast news, fresh fun via radio!"
"Wooow~!"
In the cheers, Dietrich pictured surprising his family with one.
Then reality hit: wallet too thin.
It looked pricey, huge as it was.
Ordinary family man Dietrich couldn't face his wife's wrath.
He turned to leave, regretfully.
"Buy now: half price! Our staff delivers free!"
He whipped out his wallet.
Half off? Can't miss it. Idiot if I do.
"Address here?"
"Yes! Thank you, sir!"
"Line up straight!"
Others acted just like him.
Hurry, take my money—crowding DRR staff.
Half price meant losses for the company, obviously.
But DRR president Hans thought differently.
To Hans, spread radios first—not profit from sales.
Value lay in broadcasts, not the device.
Profits from fees, ads anyway.
Sharp businessmen already calling, grasping potential.
So, Hans accepted short-term losses for普及.
Peanuts, as JP Morgan said, versus gains.
Dietrich fell for it hook, line, sinker—beaming home with his radio.
It didn't take long for his wife to rage at the unconsulted splurge and smack his back.