Alien Arms Empire

Chapter 33 33
Tiger took a group of soldiers he brought, as well as Weslev Bernard, and the security guards attached to them.There were a total of 20 of these people, and they all sat there in good order, looking down at the straw paper in front of them.

"How is it?" Tang Mo's voice came in before he entered the room.Everyone looked up sadly and shook their heads at Tang Mo.

Tang Mo also knew that this matter couldn't be done overnight, it needed a lot of time and patience, so he wasn't depressed, walked to the blackboard, and explained to them.

Those in front of him are basically Tang Mo's current military team, so he didn't hide his clumsiness, and told them all the tactical ideas he knew.

This is the battlefield experience accumulated by later generations for thousands of years, and every detail is the essence preserved after repeated arguments and scrutiny.

"I don't understand, why do you want us to carry this kind of thing... the height of the shot? the angle of the shot? You also need to calculate the throw, what line to throw? Ah, yes! Parabola..." Tiger frowned, looking at Tang who walked in Mo, complained.

A soldier also looked puzzled and asked, "This is completely meaningless, sir. Every cannon has to be reloaded after firing. The amount of gunpowder is slightly different. It is impossible to achieve accurate shooting."

The cannons of this era are still very cumbersome to load, every step is very troublesome, professional artillery is required to serve, and it takes a long time to fire once.

Similarly, because there is no metal fixed ammunition, and there is no precise propellant distribution, the range and accuracy of each gun can only depend on God's will.

Each artillery squad can only correct the shooting elements according to the gunner's own experience. Every time the fire is very random, the accuracy of the hit is really not flattering.

That is to say, because the fronts on both sides are densely populated and there are many troops, the accuracy of the artillery fire does not need to be high to hit the enemy's positions, otherwise these cannons are basically just decorations.

"Actually, if we can produce fixed-load ammunition, we can solve this problem." Tang Mo explained his plan with a smile.

Of course, it is impossible for him to produce needle guns for a lifetime, and he still needs to produce more, better and more powerful weapons, those war machines that integrate human wisdom!As the god of war, the cannon is naturally one of the first weapons and equipment he will produce.

However, he will not produce the current front-loading guns. What he wants to design and manufacture is a brand new rear-loading rifled gun!Brand new artillery that will redesignate the standard of world artillery weapons from the very beginning!

With the support of such an idea, of course he needs to give priority to training some officers who really understand artillery, can command artillery, and are familiar with artillery operations.

These soldiers in front of him, as well as Loew and the others, are all his fire seeds, and they are all new soldiers that he must educate to develop modern weapons and equipment!

"There are also fixed-load ammunition now, but the weight of the charge is still impossible to make exactly the same..." Another soldier under Tiger was also puzzled. In fact, he had also operated a gun before he came, so he himself I think I am very familiar with artillery.

"I know! But in the future! Our ammunition can be almost exactly the same! What we are learning now is the tactics of the future! Do you understand?" Tang Mo had to continue to explain.

As an old-fashioned officer, Tiger is as stubborn as a stone in a latrine, smelly and hard: "I think we are still doing unnecessary things, it is better to practice marksmanship."

"Think what you will! Think about that revolver! If weapons really change in the next few years, you'll be left behind forever if you give up the opportunity to learn today, mediocre veterans, Bury it." Tang Mo sighed and reminded Tiger one last time.

Hearing what Tang Mo said, Tiger really became serious—the revolver actually appeared, and he suddenly realized that Tang Mo might really be giving them a chance to keep up with the changes. Chance.

"Study honestly! This is an order!" Tiger looked at his subordinates, gritted his teeth, and ordered.

On the contrary, the few young mercenaries brought by Loew and Bernard did not show any resistance. They were already curious about some things in the army, and now they can learn directly. Naturally, they are overjoyed .

Anyway, they don't have the old old experience, so naturally there is no resistance, and the enthusiasm for learning is very high.

At this moment, they were all recording a line of calculation formula that Tang Mo had scribbled on the blackboard. According to the method Tang Mo said before, they brought this calculation formula into the data and calculated a value.

"Okay! Let's compare it! I'm going back to teach those kids! You try to ask each other questions! Ask the other party's artillery data to land somewhere, and then ask the other party to find out the shooting elements!" He hurriedly Walking towards the door, he assigned homework without looking back.

Twenty or so older students sighed, and all lowered their heads to understand what they had just done.

Tang Mo hurried back to the classroom next door, but he didn't see any fights.Everyone was quietly practicing how to deal with scores, and the classroom could really be said to be full of needles.

Seeing all this, Tang Mo was even a little moved. In his previous life, he had heard how much children in poor areas cherished the opportunity to study, but he didn't have such an intuitive feeling.

But now, when he really sees a group of children who love learning and regard it as their life no matter how difficult the conditions are, he suddenly feels that what he can bring to this world is not just new weapons , may also have a brighter future.

At least, he feels that he can rely on his own ability to make a party peaceful, let a group of children have bright classrooms, let a group of laborers have their own houses, new clothes and delicious meals...

In short, at this moment, he thought of many things.

Looking at these clear-eyed children, he was even a little ashamed.

How nice would it be to have lights for these kids?If these children were prepared with better exercise books, more suitable desks, chairs and benches, more beautiful classrooms, flatter blackboards, and more professional teachers... How wonderful it would be...

"Okay, children! Let's do the calculation again..." He grabbed the rough chalk that had fallen all over his hands with white powder, and continued to write on the blackboard.

……

"Hey! It's time to rest!" A worker carrying sand and soil was bare-chested, and his sinews reflected a healthy luster in the sun.

At this time when the clouds of war are clouded, it is really not easy to find a job, let alone a job with a good salary like the one offered by the Tang's weapons workshop.

He has to transport the sand to the designated location every day, and then helps nail the planks, lifts the cut planks above his head, and hands them to the professional construction workers.

The content of the job is not difficult, it just needs a lot of strength, and what he has is exactly this kind of brute force.The boss here, Tang Mo, paid him not a small salary, the key is that he still has a meal to work here.

The food is not rich, but it is absolutely sufficient, which is very rare.Bosses who don't skimp on workers' stuff are rare these days.

Comparing his heart to his heart, he is also willing to do more work for such a boss, which can be regarded as reciprocating, repaying the generosity of this boss.

But recently, he found that his work attitude was becoming less and less comparable to those construction workers.Those nasty guys started knocking nails there every morning at dawn, and they didn't even want to stop for a moment.

"We can still work on it for a while..." A worker climbed up the ladder holding the wooden board, and then put the wooden board horizontally where it should be.

On the unfinished roof, there is a wooden box full of nails, a hammer, and a crumpled piece of paper.

"I said, although the boss here is very generous, you don't need to work so hard, do you?" the worker who moved the sand raised his head, squinted his eyes in the sun, and asked looking up at the construction worker on the ladder.

"My son is literate! Hahahaha! Can you believe it? For this, I should do more, let Boss Tang Mo see, we are also a good family who knows how to repay you! Then teach my son something more, Doesn’t my son have an extra skill?” The worker standing on the ladder picked up a nail, gestured for it, and skillfully smashed it into the wooden board twice with the hammer, while turning his head to look proudly at the nail below. Sand workers showed off.

He has been happy about this since last night. The paper placed in the wooden box full of nails is not something unusual, but his son's exam paper from yesterday!

There are a total of thirty characters written on the paper, each of which is crooked and not neat.But for an old carpenter and old construction worker, this makes him happier than taking over a big job.

In this world, there are really too many uses for people who can read and write. They can run errands for noble gentlemen, work as bookkeepers, and apply for jobs in government offices.

Even if you don't do anything, you still want to be a carpenter after inheriting your father's job. You can understand the blueprints more easily if you can read and write, and you can count your profits -- at least it's not easy to suffer, right?

He himself was illiterate all his life, and he only read drawings based on experience, and he knew very few words.He has suffered a lifetime of lack of education, and now his son can write dozens of words!
How can this make him not excited?How could he not be grateful to the man who educated his son?So he has been working harder every day recently, and even the progress of the project has been accelerated a lot.

"I don't have a son!" The sand mover, who knew what was going on, complained weakly, and then went to do his own work.

(End of this chapter)