Chapter 305: The Army-Navy Central Agreement

“…If the navy were to defend the Luhuitou fortress by themselves, they would need at least a company of marines—they can’t afford that, so they will definitely need our assistance in defense,” He Ming said. “In addition, to ensure the safety of Tiandu Town, which is inland and has a complex surrounding environment, with the danger of attack from both Ming troops and local militias, as well as the Li ethnic issue, there must be troops to protect it.”

“Wouldn’t three companies be insufficient then? There’s also Anyoule City to defend.”

“Anyoule City can be garrisoned by the militia. We can deploy the main force and the battalion’s direct subordinate platoon at Yulin Fort, using boats for mobility to support Anyoule City at any time, and if necessary, support Luhuitou or Tiandu Town.”

The final strength of the army’s Sanya dispatch battalion consisted of 3 infantry companies, 1 artillery platoon, 1 engineer platoon, and the battalion’s direct subordinate platoon, making it a mixed battalion. The navy would dispatch a flotilla and a small number of coastal defense troops.

At the joint army-navy meeting held at the General Staff Headquarters, the army and navy representatives, He Ming and Ming Qiu, reached the “First Army-Navy Central Agreement” on the defense of the Sanya area. It stipulated that the Luhuitou naval base would be garrisoned by naval fortress artillery and 1 marine platoon, with the army dispatching 1 company to assist in defense. The Yulin Fort, originally garrisoned by the navy, would be handed over to the army, which would be stationed in both Yulin Fort and Tiandu Town.

Both sides confirmed that the commander of the army’s Sanya dispatch battalion would also serve as the garrison commander of the Sanya Special Zone, with unified command over both the army and navy.

A local militia would be formed. The militia would be organized and trained by the army and would be under the dual leadership of the chief executive of the Sanya Special Zone and the commander of the Sanya Garrison Area.

The supply of the army and navy would be transported by the navy—in reality, the entire supply of the Sanya Special Zone was the navy’s responsibility. The addition of this clause was the army’s request to ensure that army supplies would have the necessary priority in transportation. A point of contention between the two sides was who would control the only radio station in the Sanya area. It was finally decided that the radio station would be operated by army personnel, and the station would be located at the navy’s Luhuitou base.

After both sides signed, Ma Qianzhu led the applause, followed by the navy’s female communication soldiers bringing in trays filled with glasses of kvass mixed with fruit juice, bubbling with foam.

“Let’s toast to the joint operation of the army and navy in the Sanya area,” Ma Qianzhu raised his glass in the Executive Committee’s General Staff office, and the army and navy representatives raised their glasses together.

Ming Qiu and He Ming were both old soldiers, and they drank heavily in the army. Neither of them was a lightweight, and kvass was just like mouthwash to them. Seeing that they were still not satisfied after drinking, Ma Qianzhu ordered, “Bring rum for the two of them.” Rum was then served.

Ma Qianzhu personally poured for them and a small glass for himself.

“This operation is the first large-scale operation of our Transmigration Group since D-Day, and also the first large-scale joint operation since the army and navy were formed,” Ma Qianzhu carefully chose his words. “The operation in the Sanya area, to put it solemnly, concerns the ‘fate of the nation.’ You two are both old soldiers trained by the PLA. You must steer the army and navy well in the overall situation and not be disturbed by certain factors.”

The two of them understood the meaning behind the Chief of General Staff’s words and immediately drained their glasses:

“Please rest assured, Chief of General Staff,” He Ming immediately stated his position.

Ming Qiu also nodded calmly. Due to his status, he had only been considered a guest advisor to the navy until now. The Chief of General Staff’s words meant that he was now regarded as a true insider.

“I will definitely do it, Chief of General Staff!” he said. “The operation to develop the Sanya Special Zone doesn’t have a code name yet, which is inconvenient. This is a good opportunity for you to give it one.”

“I think we’ll call it Operation Giant,” Ma Qianzhu said. “Our Transmigration Group is about to grow into an industrial giant from here.”

Ruan Xiaowu was leading a team scrubbing the deck on a patrol boat. Ruan Xiaowu was now a very qualified naval cadet, no longer an intern without an official position. He had become the gunnery officer of a two-hundred-ton sailing ship, one of the ships from the remnants of Zhu Cailao’s forces that Lin Baiguang had persuaded to defect. After a thorough cleaning, repair, and modification, it had become a member of the navy’s sailing warship fleet. This traditional Chinese junk, due to the limitations of its hull structure, was not well-suited for Western-style gun arrangements. In addition, it was slow and not suitable for coastal patrol. It was basically used by the navy as an armed transport ship, simply named “Linyun 7.”

“Scrub hard!” Ruan Xiaowu shouted in a high-pitched voice. His sleeves were rolled up, his arms red from being soaked in seawater, and he held a book-sized stone in his hand—the sailors of the Transmigration Group’s navy used this kind of square stone to polish the deck, a habit that Wen Desi had learned from the Royal Navy of the age of sail.

Most of the naval personnel in Lin’gao were former pirates, with a small number being poor fishermen from the coast. Neither the pirates nor the fishermen could understand why they had to scrub the deck with pumice stone every day, not to mention many other things they felt were completely “wasted effort.”

Every morning at 5 o’clock, the sailors on duty would begin to wash the deck. After washing, they would use the “book stone” to polish the deck until it was white and shiny, then use a mop to dry the deck. At the same time, all the metal parts on the deck were polished with cloth and fine sand. Any extra ropes had to be coiled and ready for use, and unused sails had to be furled. Nothing could be left randomly on the deck; everything had to be organized.

This kind of discipline was a form of torture for people used to being lax at sea. No one understood why the deck had to be scrubbed clean and polished. Wouldn’t it get wet with seawater as soon as they set sail? As for coiling the ropes, it was even more incomprehensible; they could be used just as well if they were left in a pile.

But the naval officers and cadets strictly enforced these regulations, allowing no one to violate them. For the first time, the pirates learned what military discipline was. They had military discipline when they worked for their former bosses, such as no drinking before battle and no loud talking at night, but in general, there was little interference in their personal lives and a lot of free time. It was different with the Australians. Even when the ship was in port and not at sea, as long as they were not on shore leave, the sailors had to strictly follow a four-hour watch system. Those not on watch could sleep or chat, but those on watch had to maintain the ship, perform maintenance, and drill.

Both the sailors from pirate and fisherman backgrounds initially found the navy’s discipline unbearable, but Chen Haiyang did not allow any deviation from the rules. He was not confident enough in the cadets and often went on board himself to inspect the ship’s condition and training.

Le Lin had once advised Chen Haiyang not to go on board himself—after all, these sailors had only undergone a few dozen days of brainwashing from Wei Aiwen, and it was hard to say how effective it was on the old sea dogs among the pirates. If someone started a mutiny, he would be throwing his life away.

“The more it’s like this, the more courage you have to have. If you’re timid yourself, how can you expect to subdue them?” Chen Haiyang said with a smile. “A few pirates are nothing. If they dare to show their heads, we’ll deal with them harshly.”

In the subsequent “army consolidation training,” some of the old sea dogs did indeed start to make trouble, inciting the sailors to riot. It turned out that Wei Aiwen’s “political study” was not for nothing—although most of the new sailors were dissatisfied with the navy’s strict discipline, they had already witnessed the power of the Australians in political study, and the treatment given by the Australian navy was the highest in this era.

The marine corps commander, Old Di, led the marines in a clean and swift suppression. Among the more than forty participants in the riot, eighteen ringleaders were hanged at the naval pier in Bopu Port, and the rest were sentenced to “indefinite labor reform.”

Ruan Xiaowu’s gaze swept over the deck—a dozen sailors were scrubbing the deck diligently. The scrubbing was nearing its end, and the clutter on the deck was neatly organized. The 8 24-pounder carronades at their gun positions were polished to a shine, and the cannonballs were stacked in standard pyramids.

“Zheng Dashui, is that what you call scrubbing the deck?! Go back and do it again!” Ruan Xiaowu saw a spot that was not polished enough and immediately ordered a rework.

“Yes, sir!” The sailor named Zheng Dashui immediately went back to scrub again. In terms of age, Zheng Dashui was twice as old as Ruan Xiaowu. In terms of experience, Zheng Dashui had been with Zhu Cailao’s main fleet for more than ten years and was a true old sea dog, but in front of a cadet, he had to obey orders. From the beginning of the “army consolidation training,” Chen Haiyang had strictly enforced the concept of hierarchy and established the absolute authority of the officers.

Ruan Xiaowu’s gaze swept over the naval pier. Eighteen desiccated corpses were hanging from iron chains, swaying in the sea breeze. This was the most direct consequence of disobeying orders, a reminder to every native who joined the Australian navy.

At the pier, the fully prepared large sailing ships were moored one by one. The appearance of these ships was completely different from when they had first arrived at Bopu. Ruan Xiaowu sometimes marveled not only at the changes in people after they came to Lin’gao, but also at how even inanimate objects like ships seemed to become something completely new in the hands of the Australians.

The damaged hulls, the cracked decks, the crooked masts had all been repaired. Any small damaged spot, even if completely insignificant, had been patched up. The sails, which were originally covered in patches and even supplemented with straw mats, had been replaced with new, whole sails. The scattered ropes had been replaced with new, standardized ropes. Ruan Xiaowu, who came from a seafaring family, knew that even without these repairs, the ships could have continued to be used for many years without falling apart, and could still sail to Southeast Asia. No wonder some people said the Australians were obsessed with face. But, with a good face, it did give people a different feeling. Ruan Xiaowu felt that when a ship came into the hands of the Australians, it was as if it had been reborn—no, it was not that simple. It was not just like new, but also imbued with a new kind of vitality, a vitality that he had never felt on any ship before.