Chapter 197 Breakthrough Pulse Doppler Radar
In August, Liu Ying had not left this Gobi Desert for three months.
My daily routine is very fixed: I go into the workshop at seven o'clock in the morning and review the operation records of the five production lines.
This morning I processed the issues reported from various leads;
In the afternoon, I went to the laboratory to see the latest progress made by Comrade Huang and his team; in the evening, I wrote a telegram to report the day's events to Beiping.
The telegram was brief, but packed with essential information:
"On August 3rd, the yield rate of the first production line exceeded 20%."
"On August 7th, the second production line was successfully debugged, with a yield rate of 12%."
"On August 11, the lithography machine malfunctioned again, and repairs are expected to take three days."
"On August 15th, the third production line began trial production. Initial data was not ideal, and parameters are being adjusted."
Zhao Ping'an's replies were also very brief, often just two words: "Understood."
On August 20th, Liu Ying sent a slightly longer letter:
"Comrade Huang's team has been working continuously for 72 hours and cannot be persuaded to return. Should they be forced to rest?"
Zhao Ping'an's reply contained a few more words: "Please have medical staff come in to conduct examinations, and if necessary, force them to rest."
By the end of August, the fourth line was also running.
The yield rate remains inconsistent.
At its best, it can reach 25%, and at its worst, it drops to 8%.
Comrade Huang spends every day in the workshop, keeping a close eye on every single line.
Comrade Lin conducted data analysis in the laboratory to identify where the problem occurred, and then provided feedback to the production line for adjustments.
One evening, Liu Ying went to the laboratory to deliver food and saw Comrade Huang staring blankly at the microscope.
She walked over and placed the lunchbox next to him.
Comrade Huang didn't move, and said, "The yield rate of the fourth production line has dropped to nine percent today."
Liu Ying said, "You haven't slept much for three days."
Comrade Huang said, "We can't find the reason."
Liu Ying stood there, unsure of what to say.
After a while, Comrade Huang turned around, looked at the lunchbox, and said, "Put it here, we'll eat it later."
Liu Ying left. The next morning, when they came to collect the lunchboxes, the food inside was untouched.
So Liu Ying simply changed her strategy. After consulting with medical staff, she arranged a thermos for each researcher.
They added various ingredients and blended it into a thick, smooth porridge. The researchers wouldn't leave until they finished it.
Now Comrade Huang and the others had no choice but to spend a minute each time drinking that large cup of porridge.
Shenyang Radar Project Team.
Xiao Zhou has lost count of how many times he has failed.
The antenna sidelobes are not decreasing. The theoretical values are correct, but the actual measurements are too high.
If the radar is too high, it won't be accurate; if it's inaccurate, it won't hit the target. What's the use of a radar that can't hit the target?
There are three antenna prototypes in the lab, all of which were welded in the last two weeks.
The first side lobe is the highest, the second is a little lower, and the third is even lower—but it's still far from meeting the requirements on the drawing.
Xiao Zhou squatted on the ground, staring blankly at the three antennas.
Someone nearby asked, "Mr. Zhou, are you still welding?"
Xiao Zhou said, "Weld."
The man said, "We don't have many ingredients left."
Xiao Zhou stood up, walked to the worktable, picked up the blueprints, and looked at them again.
He could recite every single data point on the blueprints.
The young men examined the things Minister Zhao gave them countless times, wishing they could memorize every single word.
The antenna part was the first thing we tackled – the theory was clear, the structure was well-defined, and the materials were reliable.
It should have gone smoothly, but it got stuck on the side lobe.
He recalled the words Minister Zhao had spoken at the door the day he visited last month:
"If it can't be fixed in half a month, then try again in another half month. We still have time."
Two weeks have passed. They're still adjusting.
Xiao Zhou put down the blueprints and said, "Weld another one. Try a different welding method."
On September 15th, a telegram from the Radar Research Institute was sent to the Northwest.
It was written by Xiao Zhou; it wasn't long, but every word was carefully considered.
"Comrade Liu Ying, when will the chips be supplied? The antenna is waiting for matching tests."
Liu Ying's reply arrived two days later:
"We're still working on it. We'll try to get it done by the end of the year."
September 20th, Northwest China.
When Liu Ying received Xiao Zhou's telegram, Comrade Huang had just come out of the workshop.
She didn't say anything, but handed him the telegram.
Comrade Huang glanced at it but didn't say anything.
The two of them just sat there, looking at the gray sky in the distance.
After a long time, Comrade Huang said, "The radar team is also struggling."
Liu Ying said, "I know."
Comrade Huang said, "Both sides are struggling, but one side will eventually prevail."
Liu Ying turned to look at him.
Comrade Huang said, "Today, the yield rate of the fourth production line has reached 20%."
Liu Ying was taken aback.
Comrade Huang said, "Let's make some adjustments tomorrow; maybe we can stabilize the situation."
Early October, Northwest China.
Liu Ying sent telegram after telegram to Beiping:
"On October 2nd, the yield rate of the fourth production line stabilized at 21%."
"On October 5th, the fifth production line began trial production, with an initial yield rate of 15%."
"On October 7th, material purity fluctuated, and the yield rate declined across the board. Baotou launched an emergency repair operation."
"On October 9th, the yield rate of the third production line exceeded 30%."
Zhao Ping'an's replies were always brief: "Understood." "Continue." "Stay calm."
On October 12th, Liu Ying sent a longer letter:
"Comrade Huang fainted today. He slept for six hours and then went back to the lab. He said the chips can't wait."
Zhao Ping'an's telegram this time was a bit longer:
"A mandatory day off. That's an order."
Mid-October, Shenyang.
The problem with the antenna sidelobes is still being worked out.
The seventeenth option didn't work, the eighteenth didn't work, the nineteenth... Xiao Zhou had already lost count.
Every day is just welding, testing, modifying, and welding again.
In those few days, Shenyang experienced several autumn rains.
The fallen leaves in the yard were plastered to the ground by the rain, and the laboratory windows were covered with a layer of condensation.
Xiao Zhou and several other young people squeezed into the room, surrounding the antenna frame and testing equipment, none of them paying attention to what was outside.
October 15th, the twenty-third option.
When measuring the data, Xiao Zhou stared at the numbers on the instrument for a long time without moving.
Someone nearby leaned over and asked, "How was it?"
Xiao Zhou didn't say anything, but remeasured the data.
It's still the same number.
He looked up at the antenna, and his eyes suddenly felt a little hot.
"It's done," he said.
The person next to him was stunned for a moment, then rushed out to call for help.
The lab was in complete chaos. Some people were banging on the table, some were shouting "Finally done!", and some were shaking the antenna frame vigorously.
Xiao Zhou stood still, staring at the data, without moving.
That evening, Xiao Zhou sent a telegram to Zhao Ping'an:
"The antenna sidelobes meet the requirements. The transmitter is still being adjusted."
Zhao Ping'an's reply arrived the next day, containing only one word.
"it is good."
October 18th, Shenyang.
Zhao Ping'an arrived at the radar research institute, having rushed back from the far northwest.
Without prior notice, the car drove directly to the laboratory entrance.
Xiao Zhou was soldering a circuit board when he heard a noise. He looked up and saw that the person had already come in.
Zhao Ping'an walked around the room, looking at the half-soldered circuit board, the data posted on the wall, and the antenna prototype that had just passed the test.
He didn't speak, and neither did Xiao Zhou; they just stood there.
After a while, Zhao Ping'an walked up to the antenna and touched it. It was metal, cold, and covered with dense solder joints.
He asked, "When will the transmitter be ready?"
Xiao Zhou said, "At the end of the month."
Zhao Ping'an nodded and turned to walk out.
He paused at the door, turned back, and said, "The chips will definitely be supplied by the end of the year."
Xiao Zhou paused for a moment, then said, "Okay."
Zhao Ping'an is gone.
Xiao Zhou stood there, staring at the doorway, not moving for a long time.
For a moment, I was a little confused as to why the leader valued this project so much, yet only glanced at it briefly before leaving.
October 25th, Beiping (Beijing).
The transmitter stability has finally met the requirements.
Xiao Zhou stayed up for three days straight, adjusting the parameters countless times. After the last measurement, he looked at the numbers on the instrument and confirmed them three times before daring to sign the logbook.
The person next to him said, "Engineer Zhou, is it done?"
Xiao Zhou said, "It's done."
That evening, a few people from the lab went to the cafeteria and ordered an extra dish.
Each person had a bowl of braised pork and ate it with steamed buns. Someone suggested having some wine, but Xiao Zhou said, "Let's wait until the complete radar system is ready before we drink."
Back in the lab, he sat at his workbench, looking at the radar prototype that was only half-assembled.
The antenna is soldered, the transmitter is tuned, and the receiver is installed. Now there's just one thing missing—
Chip.
He sent a telegram to Zhao Ping'an:
"The transmitter's stability meets the standards. The prototype has been assembled. We're just waiting for the chip."
Zhao Ping'an's reply arrived the next day, and it still contained only one word.
"it is good"
October 31, Beijing.
Zhao Ping'an was reading documents in his office when his secretary knocked on the door and came in, handing him a telegram that Zhao Ping'an had been eagerly awaiting.
Liu Yingfa's:
"The chip manufacturing process is stable. The yield has remained stable at 41% for eight consecutive hours. Small-batch supply is available. Shipped to Beijing today."
Zhao Pingan read it three times.
Then he picked up another telegram, sent by Xiao Zhou a few days earlier: "Prototype ready. Just waiting for the chip."
He placed the two telegrams side by side on the table and looked at them for a while.
Picking up the pen, I first called Liu Ying back:
"Arrange for a plane to ensure safe delivery."
Call Xiao Zhou back:
"The chip has been shipped. Ready to receive it."
November 2nd,
Xiao Zhou was debugging a circuit board in the lab when he heard the sound of a car outside.
He didn't pay attention and continued welding.
The door was pushed open, and a person walked in, carrying a metal box.
"Mr. Zhou? Please sign for it."
Xiao Zhou paused for a moment, then walked over.
The man placed the box on the table, verified Xiao Zhou's identity, and then took out a document for him to sign.
After signing, I left.
Xiao Zhou looked at the box, which had a seal on it with a red stamp.
Open the box.
Inside were rows of neat metal boxes.
Each box is labeled with its model number, batch number, and date.
He opened a box, inside which lay a row of tiny, black chips with slender feet.
People gathered around, watching silently, with occasional whispers among themselves.
Xiao Zhou picked up a chip and held it up to the light. The thin metal feet gleamed faintly in the light.
He placed the chip on the worktable and walked to the radar prototype that was waiting for its heart.
He glanced back at the person behind him.
"Get to work."
November 5th, early morning.
Zhao Ping'an's office phone rang.
He answered the phone, and it was Xiao Zhou's voice on the other end, trembling so badly that it was almost impossible to hear what he was saying.
But I heard one sentence clearly.
"Sir! It's a success! Our radar is a success!"
Zhao Pingan held the phone without saying a word.
Over there, Xiao Zhou was still talking about how to match the antenna with the chip, and how to pick out the target from the clutter.
He kept saying how perfectly still that dot on the screen was. His words were incoherent, repeating themselves over and over.
Zhao Ping'an listened.
After the other end finished speaking, Zhao Ping'an forced himself to remain calm and said, "Alright, I'll recommend you for commendation right away!"
After hanging up the phone, he stood up, unable to contain his excitement any longer. He jumped up, swung his fist, and threw a powerful punch into the air.
"Airborne pulse-Doppler radar, a success!"
"We have air superiority!"