Chapter 657 - Oceanic Care
The medals were distributed on the spot. Beyond the First, Second, and Third-Class Military Merit decorations awarded to combat personnel, fifteen militiamen received recognition for their battlefield contributions with Second and Third-Class Merit Medals.
Every soldier and support worker who had participated in either combat or logistics—military and civilian alike—received the First Counter-Encirclement Victory Commemorative Medal. Those who had fought at Chengmai or served in its logistics train also received the specially struck "Chengmai Campaign Victory Commemorative Medal."
After the ceremony, the army conducted a formal march-past in battalion formations. To the stirring strains of the Grenadier's March, five battalions and the assembled militia paraded before the earthen reviewing stand. The assembled mass erupted in three resounding cheers.
Following the review, He Ming led the entire delegation into the officers' small mess hall—the dining room reserved for senior staff. White tablecloths dressed the tables, fresh flowers served as centerpieces, and Venetian blinds softened the light through the windows. Large ice buckets stood in each corner and at the center of the room, exhaling wisps of cool vapor. The moment one stepped inside, comfort descended like a blessing.
Orderlies had laid out hot towels and chilled tea.
"Not bad at all." Wen Desi dropped into a seat and mopped the sweat from his brow. Inspecting troops might look majestic, but standing at attention under the blazing sun in full dress uniform, walking back and forth while maintaining the most dignified posture—it was no light burden. He recalled watching footage of Red Square parades, where Soviet leaders in their seventies and eighties would stand for hours in the freezing wind. At least he wasn't contending with Moscow winters.
"This is the senior officers' mess—it doubles as our conference room," He Ming explained, carefully avoiding the term "transmigrator officers" within the barracks. With native officers growing more numerous, he thought it unwise to constantly emphasize that distinction.
Soon the orderlies brought lunch, served in individual portions as in all transmigrator mess halls. Each person received a wooden tray bearing rice, vegetables, and soup.
The rice was unpolished brown grain. The dishes included fresh greens, tempura prawns, stir-fried razor clams, seaweed and tofu soup, and finally, several golden fried meatballs. The aroma was tantalizing.
At the center of the table sat rectangular wooden platters filled with crushed ice, topped with neat rows of assorted sashimi.
"Everything's from the sea," Zhan Wuya sighed, reaching for four or five slices of the raw fish. "I keep feeling we're drifting toward Japanese food culture."
The fishing industry around Ma'ao had developed considerably. The Agricultural Committee had established a second fishery procurement and processing plant here, using local salt for preservation. Recently, a large coal-gas cold storage facility had been constructed specifically to store fresh catches, ensuring abundant supply.
Other platters overflowed with subtropical fruits—jackfruit predominated, followed by pineapples, bananas, and mangoes.
The beverages were coconut juice and kvass. No alcohol was served—excepting kvass itself and the beer they had yet to begin producing.
"Meatballs today!" Someone exclaimed with delight upon seeing the fragrant fried spheres, immediately sprinkling pepper-salt and tucking in with appreciative sounds between bites.
"Sausages, meatballs—things like that, you'd best not investigate too closely," Wen Desi murmured, eating one himself. The spices were strong, with a hint of beef flavor.
These were undoubtedly made from cattle and horses recovered from the battlefield. Though he hadn't been on the front lines, he had reviewed the spoils inventory. It clearly listed the number of dead oxen and horses captured—now obviously repurposed to improve the troops' meals.
"What's on the afternoon program?" Wang Luobin asked between bites.
"Distributing comfort packages—we don't need to handle that ourselves," Wen Desi replied. "The packages are already at the warehouse; officers will distribute them by headcount. We need to visit the hospital for a morale tour."
"How many wounded?"
He Ping, representing the Health Department, answered: "Very few of our own wounded require hospitalization—fewer than thirty. But there are nearly four hundred seriously wounded among the prisoners. The hospital is nearly at capacity."
"Give the prisoners some comfort items too—simpler things, of course. One dried fish each for their evening snack should suffice—you have dried fish here, correct?"
"Plenty," Dongmen Chuiyu confirmed.
"Good. We'll borrow four hundred dried fish for now." Wen Desi thought for a moment. "Have Pan Pan prepare the DV camera. We'll want extensive footage this afternoon."
That afternoon, the hospital visit took place. Afterward, the Lingao Times (Public Edition) published an article titled Oceanic Care:
"Following the grand parade celebrating our great regime's victory, the delegation dined simply in the Ma'ao base mess hall.
"All ingredients were produced by the hands of Fubogun cadres and soldiers stationed here at Ma'ao. Comrades Wen Desi, Ma Qianzhu, Wang Luobin, Zhan Wuya, and other leaders savored the modest meal while praising the delicious food produced by the Fubogun in compliance with the Yuan Laoyuan's brilliant directive to 'launch production campaigns and lighten the people's burden.'
"During the meal, Chairman Wen asked with concern about the condition of the Fubogun wounded.
"'They are all stable,' General He replied. 'The wounded have received excellent care and are recovering well.'
"Chairman Wen requested to visit the wounded that afternoon and distribute comfort items imbued with the deep affection of the Yuan Laoyuan and the people. General He said: 'You have already worked hard inspecting the troops this morning. Let other comrades handle the afternoon.'
"'We came here precisely to comfort the soldiers of the Fubogun. Compared to their arduous battles, what is a little exertion on our part this morning?' He laughed heartily. 'Let us finish our meal quickly and visit the wounded comrades soon, so as not to disturb their afternoon rest.'
"General He and everyone present were so moved by these words they could hardly speak. All felt proud to have such an approachable leader who, despite his busy schedule, cares for every ordinary soldier.
"The Ma'ao Army-Navy Hospital was peaceful and serene.
"This was a brand-new facility. The Engineering Company, renowned for speed and quality, had built it on barren ground in just three months. Now the hospital was equipped with the latest Australian medical equipment, staffed by carefully trained medical personnel.
"The wounded had just finished a nutritious lunch to speed their recovery and were preparing to rest when a voice came: 'The Yuan Laoyuan delegation has arrived!'
"Like spring rain upon parched earth, the wounded officers and soldiers, moved to their cores, struggled to sit up.
"'Don't get up—rest well.' Secretary of State Ma gently eased an excited wounded man back onto his pillow.
"He asked the medical staff how many wounded there were and the nature of their injuries.
"After receiving answers, he surveyed the ward—this room that embodied his deep concern. The proposal to build the Ma'ao Army-Navy Hospital had been championed by Secretary Ma himself, who had personally marked and revised the design drawings.
"He looked around the room, smiling with satisfaction: 'The beds are well-appointed—they've even added folding tray tables.'
"He carefully examined a bedside tray table.
"Sometimes he bent to look closer, sometimes stepped back to observe. Suddenly he asked: didn't the table seem a bit high?
"The medical staff, having not noticed this detail, could not immediately answer. He turned to a nearly recovered patient: 'Is the table comfortable to use?'
"The soldier sat up, rested both arms on the table, and shifted forward and back. 'Doesn't feel high,' he said.
"An aide compared the soldier's sitting height to the table's height: it seemed about right.
"But Comrade Ma Qianzhu, gazing thoughtfully at the table's height, slowly shook his head.
"The cadres, not understanding why he shook his head, stood there in bewilderment.
"He said: consider that patients come in different heights. This patient is quite tall—but what about shorter cadres and soldiers? Their convenience must be considered. These men were wounded in service and have already made great sacrifices; we must care for their health and daily life in every possible way.
"The medical staff realized that dear Comrade Ma Qianzhu, like a doting mother, was worrying about everyone who came here to recover. They were so moved their throats tightened.
"Every room in the Ma'ao Army-Navy Hospital overflowed with the transmigrators' love for the people and their meticulous care.
"Manufacturing Director Zhan Wuya immediately declared that upon returning, he would improve the beds with adjustable mechanisms, so every patient could recover in the most comfortable environment.
"'The matter is small, but our soldiers are treasures of the regime—not to be neglected for a moment,' he said.
"Then the delegation distributed comfort items to the glorious wounded. Though the items were simple, they carried the profound affection of the Yuan Laoyuan and the people. These blessings, heavy as Mount Tai, shone like the sun into every patient's heart.
"A soldier with a fractured arm, encased in heavy plaster, needing a nurse's help even to eat or dress, was able to accept the weighty comfort package with his own hands when it was placed at his bedside.
"When they reached the rest room, Comrade Ma Qianzhu suddenly asked: why were comfort items not being distributed in those other buildings?
"'The patients there are enemy prisoners who came to invade us,' the hospital director replied.
"'In that case, they too should receive some comfort items.'
"Those around him were surprised.
"Throughout history, wounded prisoners had usually met death. But here in Lingao, they received the best medical care.
"Someone said, not understanding: 'They are enemies—enemies who tried to harm the people of Lingao. Treating them and letting them live is already the greatest mercy.'
"'Even former enemies, now that they have laid down their arms and submitted, should be treated equally,' Comrade Ma Qianzhu said. 'Only thus can we fully demonstrate our magnanimity that embraces all under heaven.'
"Everyone present was overwhelmed by the transmigrators' boundless generosity.
"..."
In reality, the visit to the prisoner ward lasted only about fifteen minutes, with a simple speech. That speech did move many hearts and fill them with gratitude—but not because of the evening snack of dried fish.
The core of Ma Qianzhu's message concerned their future. He promised that once all the wounded recovered, the Aoosong regime would employ them, giving each man a job so he could support his family.
Days earlier, Ma Qianzhu had learned from He Ping's report that approximately one-third of the hospitalized imperial soldiers would be left with varying degrees of disability. Prisoners without disabilities would be sent straight to labor gangs after recovery. But in this era, the disabled rarely survived. Most men who enlisted came from impoverished families with no other options; returning home as cripples meant a slow death.
This was the angle he used to move the prisoners' hearts—to let them fully experience the difference between the old society and the new. This group of wounded prisoners would later become some of the most committed supporters of the new order.
After the visit, Ma Qianzhu asked the hospital's acting director: "What's the mortality rate?" He was keenly interested in the facility's treatment efficiency.
"Very low. Almost everyone who receives timely treatment survives," replied Ning Jinghai, who had returned to Ma'ao with the medical corps. "The two great treasures—antibiotics and tetanus serum—have saved countless lives. But the tetanus serum's effectiveness varies by batch. Some work well, others poorly. Overall, roughly seventy percent effectiveness."
"Two-thirds effective—that's quite good."
"Yes, we can only look at it that way." Ning Jinghai wasn't entirely comfortable with such imprecise standards. "We're simply short of transmigrator doctors and nurses. Conditions here remain relatively poor."
"Poor conditions can be improved." Ma Qianzhu reached into his pocket, pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and took a drag. "Conditions are poor, so nobody wants to come. What if you became director of the Ma'ao Hospital?"
"Me?" Ning Jinghai hesitated. He was indeed trained as a physician and had practiced clinically for years, but his later work had been entirely unrelated to medicine. Whether in treatment or health administration, he had grown quite rusty.
"Yes—aren't you a PhD?"
"In computational biology. The connection to clinical medicine is tenuous at best."
"That doesn't matter."
"Then—shouldn't this go through proper procedures...?"
"Of course, of course. But first, you need to express interest."
"I understand. I'll register when I return to Lingao."
After leaving the hospital, the delegation members held confidential discussions with the transmigrator army officers at the Ma'ao base. The talks covered every aspect of the campaign—primarily after-action reviews.
An impeachment attempt by some transmigrators had collapsed in its preparatory stages for failing to secure two-thirds of the full membership's support. But a thirty-five-point inquiry submitted by a faction in the Yuan Laoyuan still required detailed responses from the Executive Committee and the armed forces.
Wen Desi handed the document to He Ming: "Frankly, many questions won't be easy to answer. Give them serious thought."
"We'll simply tell the truth," He Ming said, scanning a few pages. "I should be the one attending the inquiry hearings—Chen Haiyang at most. Better not to summon other transmigrator officers, lest someone use the occasion to stir trouble."
"Of course, of course," Ma Qianzhu nodded. "The Executive Committee has also faced criticism, but I fully understand. This is what democracy means."
Wen Desi waved his hand: "Let's make it standard practice to review every campaign. The PDCA cycle—Plan, Do, Check, Act. That's exactly what we're doing now: discussing issues identified and how to improve. As for the Yuan Laoyuan hearings—we'll go through the motions."
That day, a series of reviews addressed problems identified during the counter-encirclement campaign—encompassing weapon quality, soldier training, tactical deployment, logistics equipment, and the overall combat system.
"Quality control of the self-manufactured Minié rifles is poor; the sights are inaccurate."
"Barrel and mechanism lifespan is insufficient. Rated barrel life is two hundred rounds, but after a hundred actual rounds, rifling erosion becomes severe. If we hadn't brought many spare rifles, we'd have been fighting with bayonets."
Zhan Wuya took careful notes: "Machining capacity is adequate; materials remain substandard."
"Black-powder grenades lack sufficient power."
"We're considering switching to fixed-cartridge rifles with the new propellant."
"All soldiers should receive steel helmets. Rattan helmets offer inadequate protection—wearing them is pointless."
"Military boots are of poor quality. Cloth-soled shoes wear out quickly; straw sandals cause serious foot injuries. Fortunately, there were no long marches."
"Company-level commanders should also be issued binoculars."
"A military academy should be put on the agenda."
...
The compiled materials filled a thick volume. Ma Qianzhu ordered it sent to Lingao immediately as reference material for the next Executive Committee plenary session.
That afternoon, all combatants—soldiers, militia, and laborers—received their comfort packages. The contents were practical: bolts of cloth and silk, tobacco, and liquor. All participants also received bonuses of varying size. Fubogun officers and soldiers each received three months' extra pay. Militia and laborers received the equivalent of one month's pay for a Fubogun private first class. Those who had earned merit medals received additional bonuses.
That evening, sumptuous feasts were laid out in the mess halls and across the parade grounds. Each man's wooden tray held two meat dishes: a piece of pork, two fish cutlets, and scrambled eggs. Both meat and vegetable dishes had been prepared with care—cooked by professional chefs brought from the Commercial Hall restaurant and cooperative eateries. Barrels of kvass filled every table. Anyone not on duty could drink freely, as much as they pleased.
Officers, soldiers, militia, and laborers gathered around the tables, grinning and feasting. Delegation members scattered through the camp, visiting every table to propose toasts.
Even though they were drinking only kvass, drinking their fill still produced a pleasant, convivial buzz. The entire Ma'ao base was immersed in an ocean of joy.
Author's Note: The "Oceanic Care" newspaper prose in this chapter is adapted from a famous internet post. Whether it was a genuine translation or the author's original creation, I do not know. Either way, my thanks to the original author.