As Smith mentally reviewed his knowledge of the Dreyse needle gun, General Ron's gaze alternated between the face of Wilhelm I and the new Dreyse rifle in his hands. Then, with a sudden change in tone, Ron addressed Wilhelm I and the other Hohenzollerns present:
"Perhaps having the inventor of this new rifle himself introduce it to Your Majesty would better showcase its extraordinary nature!"
With that, General Ron stepped aside, gesturing with his right hand toward a group behind him.
"Forgive my presumption, Your Majesty, for inviting the inventor of this rifle to your equestrian grounds without prior permission. Allow me to present Mr. Johann Nikolaus von Dreyse and his team of engineers!"
All eyes turned to where Ron pointed, revealing several individuals who appeared to be merchants or engineers, mostly young and middle-aged. However, the man at the forefront was an elderly figure, his presence exuding an air of history. It was as if he had once basked in the last glories of Frederick the Great's era.
The old man stood tall and straight, his posture unbowed by age, radiating vitality despite the years that had tempered him. His energy was almost youthful, an anomaly in an era when the average lifespan barely exceeded fifty. However, his face bore the unmistakable marks of time: wrinkles carved deep like valleys, and his once-dark hair now a stark white. His blue eyes, though still sharp, carried a hint of cloudiness, and his high cheekbones, combined with his kindly expression, gave him an air of grandfatherly warmth. Smith, however, suspected this gentleness was more a byproduct of missing teeth than natural disposition. In his youth, this man likely projected the stern demeanor of an engineer, commanding respect but not easily inviting affection.
"Ah, the brilliant Mr. Dreyse, we meet again!" exclaimed Wilhelm I, his arms spreading wide in an exaggerated gesture of welcome. The rifle in his hand waved along, and his thick beard quivered with enthusiasm. Dressed in red robes and a matching hat, he could have passed for a jovial Santa Claus.
Dreyse stepped forward respectfully, bowing as he greeted the king.
"Your Majesty, I am humbled that you still remember a mere craftsman like me!"
"Ha! You're far too modest!" Wilhelm I, evidently in high spirits, raised the rifle in his hand and approached Dreyse.
"A genius who created such a revolutionary weapon could never be insignificant. How could I forget you? Over twenty years ago, your rifle won me over instantly. And now, you've brought me yet another marvel, haven't you?"
Wilhelm I's words reminded Smith that it had indeed been 26 years since Dreyse introduced his revolutionary rifle, and over 21 years since it was adopted by the Prussian army. That span of time was enough for a newborn to grow into a young adult.
Yet, across Europe, no other major military power besides Prussia had adopted breech-loading rifles like Dreyse's. This curious fact had long intrigued Smith, prompting him to seek a reasonable explanation.
In popular perception, great powers like Britain and France were seen as staunch supporters of new technology, always at the forefront of scientific and military innovation. Yet, this situation seemed to contradict that belief, casting doubt on such assumptions.
In the 19th century, Europe lacked the stringent research secrecy of later eras. An engineer's invention might first gain traction in a country other than their own. For example, when Dreyse presented his rifle to the Prussian military, it was also tested by the British, Austrian, and Swiss armies. Though all praised its rate of fire, they criticized its complex mechanics, high maintenance demands, and expensive production costs. Complaints about its difficult bolt operation and gas leakage were widespread. The Swiss even coined the derisive term "sausage-stuffer gun" to mock Dreyse's invention.
The British dismissed it outright, stating that "the only purpose of equipping such a rifle would be to drain our military budget." The Austrians, more tactful, simply returned to their smoothbore muskets after testing. As for the haughty French, they didn't even bother to acknowledge the invention.
According to Smith's research, Dreyse's rifle was not an isolated case. Other revolutionary military technologies of the 19th century, such as breech-loading artillery and rapid-fire machine guns, also saw their first large-scale adoption in Prussia. Considering Prussia was not yet a technological superpower like Britain or France, this made the situation all the more intriguing.
Smith's musings were interrupted by Dreyse's voice. The old man, humble yet proud, introduced the new rifle to Wilhelm I:
"Your Majesty, over twenty years ago, I demonstrated the rapid-fire capabilities of a breech-loading rifle. Today, I present a rifle even faster and simpler to operate than the 1841 model!"
"Incredible!" Wilhelm I's gaze was now fixed on the rifle in his hands, his eyes brimming with both curiosity and excitement. After a long pause, he looked up at Dreyse, his voice filled with wonder:
"How did you achieve this?"
"Seeing is believing, Your Majesty!" Dreyse replied, a mischievous glint in his eye that made him seem like a playful old rascal. Strangely, this demeanor suited him perfectly. He continued:
"Perhaps you'd prefer to witness its performance firsthand?"
"Ah, now I remember!" Wilhelm I's face lit up as if recalling some amusing memory. With a knowing smile, he nodded at Dreyse.
"You always have a knack for surprises!"
Taking this as consent, Dreyse bowed deeply to his king, who was nearly a decade younger than him. He then turned to the young men behind him, clapping his hands to signal them forward.
The young engineers, dressed in their formal attire, sprang into action at the sound, moving with the precision of a well-trained army. Emperor Wilhelm I, meanwhile, beamed with satisfaction and turned to his son, Frederick, saying with interest:
"Mr. Dreyse is quite a character. He was just like this when I first met him over twenty years ago..."
As he spoke, an unusual expression crossed Wilhelm I's face—a rare glimpse of nostalgia, as though he were reminiscing about the better days of his past. His tone shifted, and he began to recount:
"I was just over forty back then, and Mr. Dreyse was much younger, too. He had come from Zurich, though I later learned he had endured significant hardships there. At the time, I knew none of this. All I knew was what my adjutant told me: this inventor wished to demonstrate a new type of weapon in my presence. My brother was also intrigued by it, though he was too preoccupied with state affairs to attend the demonstration himself."
Smith noticed that Wilhelm I's tone was calm and measured when he mentioned "my brother," as if all the rivalries and brotherly bonds between them had faded into history with his brother's passing. It was as though the king now viewed those past events with detached clarity. For a ruler, such a quality was not uncommon, especially considering that his late brother had left him the Prussian throne. The sense of power that came with being king had, in many ways, healed the wounds of his earlier frustrations as a prince. Perhaps it was precisely this mindset that allowed the now 64-year-old monarch to hold his throne for over two decades with such stability.
Wilhelm I, still lost in his memories, glanced at his son Frederick with a hint of regret and said:
"Ah, it's a pity you weren't by my side back then to witness it all. Nowadays, the Dreyse rifle is so commonplace in our army that you knew its firing speed even before seeing it. But back then, things were very different. Our troops were still using those old M1809/31 muskets—what relics they were! Those guns were modifications of the M1809 flintlocks. I used one myself as a young lad fighting the French. Later, in 1831, our engineers converted them into percussion-cap guns, calling them new equipment.
But it was still the same old thing—muzzle-loading, smoothbore, and utterly inaccurate. In fact, many of those converted guns had seen action at Leipzig and Waterloo, serving for decades afterward. At least my own musket back then was brand new; I could still smell the fresh gun oil when it was handed to me!"
Frederick, however, was already zoning out. Listening to his father reminisce was hardly an enjoyable task, especially given their strained relationship. His thoughts drifted to the child in his arms, "Little Willy," and he resolved that when his time came, he would avoid rambling on like his father.
What else could he do now but keep listening?
Meanwhile, Smith, cradled in Frederick's arms, had his own thoughts. He had noticed a change in his "grandfather" lately. The usually preoccupied Prussian king seemed to be making a conscious effort to mend the awkward and tense family dynamics by organizing gatherings like this—a development absent from the original timeline. This newfound closeness opened up both new possibilities and uncertainties. But for Smith, it was a chance to understand his grandfather better, so he listened intently to Wilhelm I's ramblings.
"...They say that under Frederick the Great, line infantry could fire five rounds per minute with their muzzle-loading smoothbore muskets. I was born too late to witness such feats. By the time I fought the French, a soldier who could manage three rounds a minute was considered excellent, and this hadn't changed much by the late 1830s.
Can you imagine? That was the knowledge I brought with me to the test range. Then Mr. Dreyse arrived with his remarkable gun, accompanied by some poor fellow with an old musket. The competition began. They fired their first shots almost simultaneously, but by the time Mr. Dreyse fired his second, the poor fellow was still ramming powder into his barrel! I remember it vividly—when the minute was up, Mr. Dreyse had fired ten rounds, while the muzzle-loader had yet to fire a fourth. Later, I heard the poor man complaining that the sound of Mr. Dreyse's gun had thrown off his rhythm, or else he could have managed five shots—ha!"
At this, Frederick could only force a smile, though Smith sensed the laughter was somewhat insincere.
Wilhelm I then shifted his focus to Smith, cradled in Frederick's arms, and said:
"But today, our Little Willy is in for a treat. Let's see how fast Mr. Dreyse's new rifle can fire!"
As soon as the words left his mouth, Dreyse's aged voice rang out:
"Everything is ready, Your Majesty!"
The crowd turned to look in the direction of the sound and saw that the open horse-riding grounds had been transformed into a shooting demonstration range. Near the front stood three figures holding rifles, spaced about 40 meters apart. Roughly 100 meters away from them, rows of targets were neatly arranged.
Unlike the typical circular shooting targets, these were humanoid figures, and there were quite a lot of them—Smith estimated that each shooter had more than ten targets in front of them.
Then Dreyse spoke again, his voice loud and clear. Likely due to his advanced age and the loss of most of his teeth, his speech had a peculiar accent as he spoke in German:
"To provide everyone with a direct comparison, the three shooters here will use three different rifles. The first shooter will use the muzzle-loading rifled musket currently adopted by the Austrian military. The second shooter will use the Dreyse 1841 needle rifle, the standard weapon of our army. And the third shooter will demonstrate our latest rifle innovation!"
As Dreyse introduced them, the three shooters turned toward the direction of Wilhelm I and raised their rifles to chest level, briefly displaying them. At this distance, it was impossible to make out the finer details of the firearms, but their faces were clear enough. A casual glance was all it took for Smith to notice the third shooter.
This was not a particularly handsome man—his appearance could even be described as unremarkable. However, he had clearly made an effort to present himself for the occasion. His hair was neatly slicked back, and his mustache was meticulously groomed into two upward twists. His uniform was pressed to perfection, a classic ensemble for formal events of the time.
Yet, something about him seemed familiar. Smith couldn't quite place where he had seen him before.
Dreyse's voice rang out again:
"Each of the three shooters has 15 humanoid targets set up 100 meters ahead, arranged in skirmish formation. They will each fire at their respective targets until all are down. I invite everyone to use their pocket watches to count how many rounds each rifle can fire in the first minute!"
Upon hearing this, everyone, including Wilhelm I, pulled out their pocket watches. Smith, ever considerate, held his father's watch for him, earning a gratified smile from Friedrich.
"My esteemed King," Dreyse said as he approached Wilhelm I, "the shooters are ready. Please give the order to begin."
Wilhelm I was more than happy to oblige. Adjusting his collar and clearing his throat, he commanded in a loud voice:
"Take your positions! Ready!"
As the second hand of his pocket watch prepared to start a new cycle, he gave the order:
"Fire!"
Three gunshots rang out almost simultaneously, making it impossible to distinguish one from the other. In an instant, three targets 100 meters away fell, their timing so close that it was impossible to determine who was fastest. At the starting line, at least, they were evenly matched.
But no one paid attention to the first shooter anymore. Everyone knew that the muzzle-loading rifled musket stood no chance in a rapid-fire contest. What intrigued them was the performance of the two Dreyse rifles and how much the new model could outperform its predecessor.
A little over four seconds later, the second shot rang out.
Everyone froze in astonishment, their eyes locking onto the third shooter. The smoke from his rifle's muzzle hadn't yet dispersed, and his reloading motion was unlike anything people were accustomed to seeing with the Dreyse needle rifle. Instead of pulling back the bolt to load another round, he lifted the bolt handle, pulled it back sharply, inserted the next round, then pushed the bolt forward and locked it with a twist. The entire sequence was indistinguishable from the operation of a bolt-action rifle—a design Smith associated with a completely different era.
Smith was stunned. This was not the Dreyse rifle he knew but something closer to a rifle of the next technological generation.
"This is... Mauser's mechanism…" Smith muttered under his breath. His voice was so quiet that even Friedrich, who was holding him, didn't catch the words.
Not that Friedrich would have noticed even if he had heard; his entire attention was focused on the new Dreyse rifle. By now, no one cared how many targets the third shooter had hit. All eyes were on his rate of fire.
At first, Friedrich counted softly while glancing at the pocket watch Smith held. But soon, his voice grew louder and more excited. His face flushed red in the chilly early spring breeze:
"Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen!"
Just as the second hand completed its first revolution, Friedrich nearly counted to sixteen. He exclaimed in astonishment:
"My God! Fifteen rounds in a minute! This must be a miracle!"
"No, my esteemed Crown Prince," Dreyse said with a proud smile, "this is not a miracle. This is technology! German technology is the best in the world!"