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“No, no, no!” Halstead reached for the nearest design, a large sheet of paper depicting a small vehicle not two meters in height with a small turret that sported two machine guns, and tore the sheet of paper in two. The dictator ignored the sharp intake of air from the design’s creator, and reached to the table for a pencil and a clean sheet. “Let me show you men the panzer of the future.” He beckoned for the engineers to step forward, and they approached the sketch Halstead started to draw for them. “The Wehrmacht’s new panzer must be an offensive weapon capable of rapid movement, destruction of opposing armor, and invulnerability to counterattack. We shall call it the ‘Panther.’” Halstead drew a tank entirely different than the ones imagined by his engineers. “The Panther shall have a large, sloped turret,” Halstead drew a somewhat flattened semicircle on top of a flat line with curved ends that was the new tank’s chassis, “sloped to prevent or reduce damage from a direct hit. Make the gun long, counter-intuitively long, of a seventy-five millimeter caliber. The gun’s length will give it greater armor penetration. Also, give the tank torsion-bar suspension, interleave the road wheels, and make the tracks extremely wide,” Halstead began a drawing of a frontal view, “to give it greater mobility. And give it armor, as much armor as possible, to make it unbeatable.” The chief engineer broke the silence after exchanging frightened looks with his colleagues and clearing his throat. “Mein Führer.” Halstead lowered the pencil to the paper and straightened his torso. “Yes, von Stohrer.” “Mein Führer, we certainly appreciate your input, and your design certainly is food for thought, but, if I may be blunt, your proposals are impractical. Why, to begin with—” Halstead waved a hand in the air, silencing the protest. “Do not tell me how it cannot be done, Stohrer. Get to work with your men and show me how it can be done. This is a tank that will work, a tank that will change the course of military history.” |