Chapter 318 - Reorganizing the Army and Preparing for War
"According to Yu Eshu: a good Mongolian horse fetches a thousand strings of cash. An inferior one, eight hundred. A mule, five hundred." Wu De smiled knowingly. "So tell me—with just the horses you have now, how much is your pasture worth?"
"That much!" Whether Wu Nanhai, Yang Baogui, or Nick, all were startled by these market prices.
"So—" Wu De set down his cup. "The pasture must wait until at least after the bandit suppression campaign concludes. Additionally, we're preparing to take over Dongchun Village. It won't be too late to build the pasture once everything is settled. At least it will be safer."
"Where exactly is that?" People like Nick had basically shuttled between Bopu and Lingao since D-Day and were completely ignorant of these places.
"A small village at the foot of Piye Mountain." Wu De guessed they wouldn't know that location either. "Piye Mountain is the main peak of Gaoshan Ridge, and the route we must take to reach Damei Village. Once we control it, it can serve as a stronghold protecting the traffic."
"When does the bandit suppression begin?"
"That's classified." Wu De's smile was enigmatic. "Actually, it won't stay hidden from you, Nanhai—you'll figure it out when preparing military rations. The mud-legs are still training. Probably another month or two."
Holding a thin rattan cane, Huang Xiong bellowed at his subordinates: "Left face! Right face! About face! You bunch of idiots!" He punctuated his words by kicking the buttocks of a recruit who had turned the wrong direction. The unlucky fellow tumbled into the mud, then scrambled upright with a face full of grievance—no one could understand what Huang Xiong was saying. His Mandarin was extremely "Ming Dynasty characteristic," tantamount to a foreign language for Lingao's locals.
There was no time for proper Mandarin lessons. Xi Yazhou simply adopted a method of "learning through training," forcing recruits to master Mandarin commands during drill. Perhaps they would learn more profoundly this way.
After the Political Consultative Conference military parade concluded, the Teaching Battalion soldiers received their rank conferment ceremony. Based on performance and demonstrated ability, most were awarded the rank of corporal; a smaller number became sergeants. A select few outstanding individuals were chosen for officer training. The original indigenous squad leaders were all promoted to commissioned officer status. Huang Xiong became a second lieutenant in this promotion.
Those injured or disabled in previous battles received severance pay and retired. Depending on their remaining capacity for work, they were assigned to different departments; those with mobility issues became gatekeepers at various departments and factories.
A very small number of Teaching Battalion soldiers were neither immediately promoted to sergeant nor sent to officer training—they attended a short-term course held by the General Bureau of Political Security in Bairen City, undergoing specialized training for political security missions.
Those selected were all individuals politically dead-set on following the Transmigration Group. After training, they returned to their units with the rank of sergeant. Each battalion had ten such men, called the "Ten-Man Group," tasked with consolidating the troops, preventing desertion and defection, and watching for enemy spies attempting to infiltrate. This system had already been implemented covertly during the Teaching Battalion era. The identities of these individuals were classified; even Xi Yazhou didn't know which specific soldiers belonged to the Ten-Man Group.
First the sergeants—then they planned gradual expansion to ordinary soldiers. According to the General Bureau of Political Security's plan, in the future every company would have its own Ten-Man Group to ensure each squad contained a "Political Soldier," forming an interlocking system of checks and balances alongside officers, sergeants, and Soldier Committees to maintain tight control over the army.
Large numbers of recruits then began constructing their own barracks under sergeant supervision. They were organized and assigned to these newly promoted NCOs, and training commenced. Based on problems identified during the first phase of the Teaching Battalion, the Military Committee revised the entire training syllabus and combat manual, placing greater emphasis on formation drill, shooting practice, and earthwork construction. Formation training received particular attention—Lin Shenhe would personally preside over specialized instruction in 19th-century infantry formation changes.
In addition to the original Infantry Teaching Battalion, the Army expected to organize another standard six-company infantry battalion.
A Special Forces Teaching Team was established: one company each for communications, engineering, and logistics, plus an attached carrier pigeon team—compared to temperamental horses, pigeons bred much faster.
The Artillery Teaching Team added an Army Field Artillery Battery. At the suggestion of the Artillery Work Leading Group, field artillery was standardized to just three basic types: 12-pounder M1857 Napoleon guns, M1841 12-pounder mountain howitzers, and M1841 24-pounder howitzers. Various miscellaneous cannons previously under field artillery establishment were melted down.
The General Staff carefully stationed troops across Transmigration Group-controlled areas for training. No single location housed more than one battalion. In Ma Qianzhu's view, given Lingao's terrain, moving in battalion-sized infantry units was sufficient. Lin Shenhe shared this assessment. In his proposed training and combat plan, he clearly stated: Infantry uses the battalion as basic unit; cavalry, artillery, engineers, and logistics use the company as basic unit. The regiment serves only as a combined arms formation.
The Navy's Marines also expanded by one company. Originally, the Admiralty had intended to form a full Marine Battalion, but ship crews and fortress artillerymen consumed most of the recruit quota allocated to the Navy. Furthermore, the Military Committee made clear that the Navy need not expand its land combat capability for the time being—ship construction should be the priority.
After Huang Xiong became a second lieutenant, he was promoted to platoon leader. Although he didn't understand the 20th-century military system, he easily grasped that he had returned from the ranks of "soldiers" to the team of "officers." This lowest-level "Second Lieutenant" was probably equivalent to a Qianzong or Bazong in the Ming army.
However, Australian officers were obviously not as "nourished" as Ming officers—this didn't refer to wealth, but to throwing their weight around. Becoming a Qianzong or Bazong in the old system was almost like becoming a local emperor; the soldiers under command were essentially the officer's personal slaves. But with the Australians, sergeants and officers had authority to manage their subordinates strictly according to military regulations and discipline—yet abusing soldiers without cause or extorting property from them was absolutely forbidden. Each company had a Soldier Committee that frequently visited squads to educate men about their rights. Once a soldier "sued"—or using the new term, "filed a complaint"—the Soldier Committee would investigate covertly and report findings to the "Chiefs." The outcome was predictable. Huang Xiong knew of a sergeant who, upon his promotion, had demanded his recruits buy meat and wine to celebrate. After the Soldier Committee discovered and reported this, he was immediately docked three months' pay and demoted to Private First Class.
Tian Liang also received a promotion. His performance had been average, so he only made corporal, serving as squad leader over nine recruits whom he drilled daily. His Mandarin wasn't standard—he lapsed into hometown dialect when agitated. But being able to attach a cloth patch to his bare shoulders and sew on three yellow bars made Tian Liang very happy. He was no longer an ordinary big-headed soldier; he was a "sergeant" of some standing. His pay had increased too. He had long wanted to find Guo Fu and show her what he had become. But the place where she worked—Bairen General Hospital—couldn't be entered casually, and the unit's training schedule was particularly demanding. Besides drill, two days each week were set aside for labor, with companies allocated to various construction sites. Work, training, and nightly cultural and political studies left everyone exhausted, with scarcely time to think about anything else.
Although daily life consisted of nothing but training and labor, rumors of impending war had already spread among the officers. The more perceptive transmigrators could already divine the next target from the shift in propaganda climate: Bandit Suppression.
Starting a month ago, training content changed. Units began practicing small-group mountain combat and sharpening long-distance precision shooting skills. Beyond the shift in training, a more obvious sign appeared: during the fixed weekly political study sessions, victims of banditry from across the county began making appearances. These groups of old and young people wept and wailed on stage, recounting the terrible deeds bandits had inflicted upon them. Since most recruits hailed from Lingao itself and had personally experienced bandit depredations, they responded viscerally. Under the deft guidance of Political Soldiers, quite a few recruits also leapt onto the stage to bitterly recount their own sufferings, quickly stirring the atmosphere to a fever pitch.
Thus—no one knew quite who started it—crooked "Petitions for Battle" and "Statements of Determination" began appearing in abundance on company blackboards.
"Immediately publish a series of reports on the local bandit problem in the Lingao Times." Ding Ding received a call from the Propaganda Department while in the editorial office.
"Understood." Ding Ding hurriedly picked up a pencil. "What's the focus?"
"Four points to note: First, make clear that the local bandit problem is a historical factor and has nothing to do with the current magistrate. Second, imply that the longstanding bandit problem involves certain local gentry and petty officials. Third, focus on discussing the impact of banditry on local livelihoods. Fourth, do not explicitly or implicitly state what attitude the Transmigration Group will take toward the bandits."
"Got it." Ding Ding thought for a moment and scribbled some notes.
"But I lack materials—I'll need interview subjects..."
"Go to the Intelligence Committee tomorrow to pick up materials. Go every Monday from now on." The voice on the phone continued, "We'll arrange the interviews and notify you by phone when the time comes."
"Understood."
"The clean proof before publication must be submitted to the Propaganda Department for review. You must attend personally."
"I will."
"Besides the copies kept for archives, arrange distribution of this batch so that most reach the local people." The line went dead.
So this is preparation for bandit suppression! Ding Ding muttered to himself. He dared not delay and hurried to find someone to fetch Zhou Dongtian for a layout discussion. As for drafting articles, naturally that would require Du Wen's involvement—she had a unique talent for synthesizing and embellishing from historical materials and data.
He Ming, dressed in a crisp Year One Type Gray Army Uniform, strode into the General Staff Combat Conference Room with regulation 80-centimeter steps. Everyone present rose with a collective rustle and saluted.
He Ming returned the salute. Though only in his early fifties, his hair had grayed somewhat—cut very short, it lent him a sharp, spirited appearance.
He dispensed with pleasantries: "Comrades, we are convening the first Bandit Suppression Work Meeting." He swept back the map curtain behind him with a sharp tug, revealing a large-scale tactical map of Lingao covered with a transparent erasable overlay. Red and blue marks already dotted its surface.
"Intelligence Committee, please report on the bandit situation in Lingao."
Luo Duo stood and opened a thick folder.
"Comrades, the booklet before you is a comprehensive investigation report on Lingao's bandit situation compiled by our Social Work Department."
A rustle of pages being turned filled the room.
"...According to intelligence gathered by our various departments, the bandit situation in Lingao is as follows—"
Banditry in Lingao was severe. Ancient governments exercised weak control over local areas, and even slightly remote places often saw bandit activity. Even during the supposedly prosperous Kangxi and Qianlong reigns, large bandit strongholds had existed in the Miaofeng Mountain area barely a hundred li from the capital. Lingao, situated on the frontier and long sparsely populated, offered limited capacity for either government or local gentry to maintain social order. This made bandit activity unusually rampant.
"According to our investigation," Luo Duo continued, "thirty-eight bandit bands with over fifty members operate on a long-term basis throughout the county. Seven of these exceed one hundred members—not counting the many 'home-dwelling bandits' who farm in peacetime and turn outlaw when opportunity presents."
This figure provoked a stir in the crowd. The actual population of Lingao, according to Civil Affairs estimates, was only seventy to eighty thousand. That a county of fewer than one hundred thousand should harbor so many bandits!
Due to geographical conditions, local banditry displayed a characteristic pattern of collusion with pirates. Every time pirates made landfall, bandits coordinated with them; bandit dens often served double duty as pirate hideouts. And when government forces or militia pressed them hard, bandits would use pirate ships to escape to sea. This made suppression extremely difficult. Successive magistrates had tried various methods, but with limited effect. Even extensive militia establishment and village brave training provided only limited local self-protection.
If the transmigrators wished to conduct social surveys and implement civil affairs and agricultural reforms in Lingao, a stable social order was essential. It was unthinkable that every work team venturing into the countryside would require armed escorts. And the various infrastructure projects to come couldn't have gun towers lining every route with soldiers standing guard.