Chapter 147: Factory 0780
Chief Engineer Yu returned to the base with his team; it was already early September. He immediately began reorganizing the revisions to the existing design data for the J-7 trainer.
As the chief designer overseeing the entire project at its inception, Yu was responsible for coordinating the design work and assigning components for the new aircraft. His next task was to go to Factory 0132 to coordinate the cockpit design, which was directly subcontracted to that factory. Naturally, he also needed to address issues regarding radar production.
Predictably, Factory 0132 had long been prepared for this project. As soon as Yu arrived, they presented the pre-prepared materials. Yu and his technical team reviewed the technical approach and, after careful consideration, gave their approval to the cockpit design plan.
“No problems. Old Tu, the current cockpit design is all yours to handle. We can sign the contract now, and the first installment of R&D funding will be transferred to you in the next few days. I hope you won’t fall behind schedule,” Yu said.
What a joke—would a factory like 0132, known for their single-minded determination, ever fall behind? If anything, they would risk everything to meet the deadline.
“No problem. We’re only responsible for the cockpit design, so we can definitely keep pace. If you give me some sub-projects, we can handle those too, but I’m not sure if you’re willing,” Tu said.
He was still angling for more sub-projects. Yet 0132 had already been entrusted with one of the aircraft’s key components—the cockpit. What else could he want? If they wanted the whole project, they might as well take over completely.
Although both factories were brotherly units from the Southwest region, it wasn’t as if they shared the same pants yet. Yu declined Tu’s suggestion: “Let’s leave it at that. We can still handle the rest of the projects ourselves. We already have a foundation with the J-7 trainer, so completing the airframe design won’t be a problem.”
Yu’s response was exactly what Tu expected—his suggestion was more of a pretext than a real request. What he really wanted was...
“Old Yu, I understand your meaning. What I actually meant was that after we finish the J-7M project in a few months, to ensure that our airframe designers maintain their technical skills, Factory 0132 has discussed lending some of these personnel to you to participate in the new aircraft design. This way, the design capabilities we've painstakingly developed won’t be lost.”
This caught Chief Engineer Yu completely off guard. According to 0132, they wanted to lend their technical strength to the base—not something to refuse. Factory 0132’s technical capabilities were formidable; if anyone had done the most thorough and in-depth research on the J-7 domestically, it was them.
One could say these personnel represented the cutting edge of J-7 research in the country. How could Yu not seize such an opportunity? “That’s great, no problem at all. We’re happy to accept these people. Their addition will bring many benefits to our research efforts.”
Yu readily accepted the designers. Yet Tu’s heart bled inwardly—these were the core talents he had nurtured over many years. If it weren’t for the J-7-3 project having gone to Factory 0611, no one would willingly lend out such a powerful technical team. After all, technical personnel are the central competitive edge of a fighter manufacturer.
“Alright then, we have about seventy designers, all the elite mainstays of our factory. I hope you, Old Yu, can make good use of them in the new aircraft design.”
Thus, without a new project, Factory 0132 lent its entire design team to Base 0011 to maintain their technical skills. What 0132 didn’t realize was that this loan would become permanent.
“No worries. I’ll deploy them according to their talents and ensure their skills are fully utilized. Once the J-7M design is complete, just let me know, and I’ll make arrangements,” Yu assured them.
With 0132’s concerns addressed, Yu had an even more pressing matter: although the radar for the new aircraft had been negotiated with the British, the base lacked the capability to design and produce airborne radar. They had to find a capable domestic partner to co-produce the fire-control radar.
When it came to airborne fire-control radar in the Republic, there was no ignoring Factory 0780—a string of digits few understood. But the other name by which the factory was widely known was Longhong Factory.
This was the large enterprise famous in the 1980s for manufacturing televisions—a purely civilian product. How did such a factory come to be involved with military fire-control radars?
In fact, Factory 0780 was a pioneer of military-to-civilian conversion. Since 1972, it had begun partially transitioning from producing specialized fire-control radars to manufacturing televisions.
The later massive success of Longhong Factory directly spurred economic development in Fucheng city. A vivid analogy: whenever Longhong sneezed, the entire economy of Fucheng caught a cold.
Longhong’s tremendous success was hailed as a great pioneer in military-to-civilian conversion. Yet despite its booming civilian market in later years, Longhong’s airborne radar production declined. After all, by the 1980s, Longhong was already thriving and profitable on its own.
Other domestic airborne radar manufacturers were not so fortunate. To support those factories that failed to transition successfully, the national policy favored assigning airborne radar projects to these struggling units.
Consider this: Longhong, the leading airborne radar producer, was doing so well that the authorities were content to let it focus on itself. Meanwhile, many smaller units awaited radar projects. Naturally, the authorities showed some favoritism.
Yang Hui did not know how to judge this approach. From the perspective of the national economy, it was justifiable. But from the viewpoint of fighter manufacturers, this was frustrating. Why not use the well-funded, technologically strong Longhong Factory instead of giving the radar projects to lesser factories? It was truly detrimental to the team.
Aware of this, Yang Hui had frankly expressed these concerns to Chief Engineer Yu while in the capital, hoping to find a reliable partner for the new radar introduction. Factory 0780 was the pioneer of domestic airborne fire-control radar technology and certainly not weak. Financially, backed by Longhong, it was far more secure than those factories surviving solely on state projects.
Most importantly, Factory 0780 never abandoned military production. Its later products included three-dimensional phased array radar armored vehicles, air defense missile command vehicles, and Project 10 power supply systems—only airborne fire-control radars were missing.
Based on this, there was every reason to believe that with the introduction of advanced radar production technology to the new aircraft, the well-funded Longhong Factory would continue developing new radar systems. This was the right technical path.
At this time, Chief Engineer Yu arrived in Fucheng to discuss radar matters with Longhong Factory. Since the radar technology was funded by the base and to be produced by Longhong, careful negotiations were necessary.
The factory’s leadership was headed by an elderly man nearing retirement, who had served as factory director since 0780’s founding. Now, Yu was greeted by Ni Runfeng, the “television king” who would take charge by 1985.
“Hello, Chief Engineer Yu, welcome, welcome,” Ni greeted warmly.
The man who had grown Longhong Factory’s assets from 39.5 million yuan at his start to 21.8 billion by retirement was no ordinary figure. Even in 1983, he exuded an extraordinary aura.
Yu was unaware of Ni’s later accomplishments but immediately felt a good impression of this enthusiastic middle-aged man.
“Hello, I’m Yu Ximing from Base 0011. I’m here to discuss your old specialty. Your former director must have mentioned this to you.”
Longhong’s proud military-industrial heritage was a point of pride for its people. Yet special circumstances had invisibly excluded Longhong from the airborne fire-control radar development and production projects—a sore spot for its leadership.
Now, with an opportunity to bypass national bureaucracy and directly access the most advanced airborne fire-control radar technology, Longhong was eager. Maintaining military production capabilities alongside a flourishing civilian market was the best possible outcome.
“I know. The former director told me about this. The entire Longhong leadership fully supports this cooperation. We will dedicate ourselves wholeheartedly to this airborne radar project.” (To be continued.)