Chapter 3: D-Day

The sky was now dimly lit, and a commotion began to stir within the quiet fleet anchored off Dadonghai. The people on board were busy: soldiers inspected their weapons, and laborers were roused. By now, most of them no longer felt seasick, and their stomachs began to rumble. Sailors started distributing breakfast.

On ships that had the means, a hot meal was provided as much as possible. Sailors handed out disposable wooden meal boxes. Upon opening them, the men found white rice mixed with chopped vegetables, along with a whole fish and an egg.

The laborers and soldiers happily ate their breakfast, their previously low spirits slightly lifted. After finishing their meal, they could ladle a bowl of hot soup from steaming iron barrels: a miso-like soup made with fava bean paste, containing dried fish and seaweed. It was warm and comforting to the stomach.

Ships unable to provide hot meals distributed better-quality dry rations: Type A-1 rations. These were hard biscuits made from rice flour mixed with lard, nuts, egg powder, salt, and sugar, considered the highest grade of emergency rations. Apart from the special reconnaissance teams and a few navy sailors, other native troops had never even seen them. The hot soup was delivered from the larger ships via small boats. Zhuo Tianmin insisted that everyone should have at least one bowl of hot soup. This wasn’t a meaningless perk—the laborers needed to replenish the energy they had lost from six days of seasickness and anorexia. There was a lot of work waiting for them once they got ashore.

The team leaders, company leaders, and battalion leaders of the labor corps moved through the crowd, encouraging everyone while urging them to pack their equipment. The landing was about to begin.

The transmigrators were all tense, but also filled with excitement—D-Day, T-Hour was approaching!

Over sixty ships had spent six days circumnavigating half of Hainan Island, and now the transmigrator group’s largest naval operation was about to unfold. This was the first of countless future landings. The results of their months of planning, preparation, and training would be revealed at this very moment.

The ships formed up on the sea, waiting to enter Dadonghai in sequential batches.

“Begin the operation!” Wang Luobin ordered from the bridge of the Type 8154 fishing vessel. He then announced, “I am now transferring command to Li Haiping until we establish a forward command post on shore.”

Following this, the radios and signalmen throughout the fleet sprang into action. A stream of orders was issued via radio waves, signal flags, and semaphore, relayed to every single ship.

On the Xun Jing and Da Jing, the cranes began to rumble, their steel cables pulled taut. Heavy wooden motorboats were slowly lowered from the decks into the sea. These were four transport boats, equipped with small steam engines, each operated by four sailors and capable of carrying twelve people and some supplies.

The motorboats carried the advance teams tasked with establishing landing zones at Lu Huitou and the mouth of the Tiandu River. Two boats were assigned to each location. The landing would be conducted at multiple points simultaneously to save time on transit and transfer. Temporary outposts would be established at Lu Huitou and the Tiandu River mouth to facilitate the immediate start of work.

The advance teams would set up light and smoke markers at the landing zones for easy identification by subsequent ships, day or night. They also carried large identification panels of different colors. Ships heading to different landing sites had mission cards that, besides detailing the task, simply indicated which landing point to go to by matching the color on the card to the color of the landing point. This system was extremely simple and intuitive, well-suited to the general education level of the sailors. It was said that this system was invented by Wen Desi, who was obsessed with standardization. “The future nation will be a nation of ISO systems!” was his famous quote.

Seeing that black smoke was already puffing from the motorboats’ funnels as they started up, the Type 67 landing craft in the middle of the formation let out a huge roar, white water churning from its stern. This old landing craft was once again acting as the spearhead of the assault.

On the landing craft were two Dongfanghong tracked tractors fitted with bulldozer blades. In the gaps on either side of the tractors, off-road motorcycles were squeezed in wherever there was space, along with reconnaissance soldiers from the newly formed Sanya detachment of the Special Reconnaissance Brigade and a full platoon of marines from the Navy. The latter were watching the former’s equipment with a mixture of envy and astonishment.

The reconnaissance soldiers wore US Marine Corps BDUs and a full set of American-style gear, except for their helmets, which were Type 80 steel helmets—composite fiber helmets had an expiration date and had been rejected during the initial procurement.

The special reconnaissance team’s equipment was already the best in the transmigrator group. After the windfall from the sunken ship, it was like swapping a bird gun for a cannon. Each regular member was armed with an SKS rifle. The best marksman was equipped with a scoped M44 Mosin-Nagant rifle. A member providing fire support used an MB77B1 automatic rifle, and two others used shotguns. Qian Shuixie, standing on the bridge, had a Vz. 68 slung over his shoulder, a Russian-made pair of binoculars hanging on his chest, a Glock 17 tucked into his belt, and a US military multi-purpose tool and a jungle machete hanging from his hip. He wore sunglasses, held a radio transceiver in his left hand, and a 12-gauge pump-action shotgun in his right. At his feet lay a Labrador retriever fitted with a special life jacket. If he had a cigar clamped in his mouth, he would look exactly like a minor leader from a South American guerrilla force.

Qian Shuixie wasn’t originally in the special reconnaissance team; he was recruited by Xue Ziliang. Qian Shuixie’s profession was driving heavy trucks for a living. After D-Day, he hadn’t been assigned any regular work, just helping out here and there, basically either driving or operating boats. The Organization Department felt it was a waste of such talent to continue as a driver in the new world and had been looking for a more suitable position for him.

Xue Ziliang, being a gun enthusiast, was on good terms with the North American faction—almost everyone in that group loved guns. On Xue Ziliang’s recommendation, Qian Shuixie decided to join the special reconnaissance team.

Bei Wei warmly welcomed this new addition. Many transmigrators were willing to be officers, but very few were willing to join the special reconnaissance team. No one was stupid; the training for this team was on a completely different level from the regular army. Most felt it wasn’t worth the suffering.

Qian Shuixie didn’t mind. He was idle anyway. What was the point of coming to this new world just to remain an ordinary person? Making a name for himself would bring greater benefits in the future!

Confident in his physical fitness and his experience in outdoor activities and shooting competitions, especially PPC (Police Pistol Competition) and IDPA (International Defense Pistol Association), he officially joined the team under Xue Ziliang’s persuasion.

Within eight weeks, Qian Shuixie passed the basic training items of the normal twelve-week training program, completing many of them in just a few days. This made Bei Wei look at him in a new light. No wonder the United States was so arrogant: the American people’s mastery of weapons and machinery was unmatched by any other country.

Of course, twelve weeks of training was far from enough. The subsequent advanced training was not so easy. Relying on his good physical condition and the endurance gained from years of long-haul truck driving, Qian Shuixie managed to get through the training courses. Before the start of Project Giant, he was appointed as the leader of the Sanya detachment.

Bei Wei had considered it carefully. The other detachment leaders, especially Chen Sigen and Xue Ziliang, were needed elsewhere. Xue Ziliang was a very useful instructor. As for Chen Sigen, there were too many places in the transmigrator group that needed him, and he was also the “Director of the Nutrition and Fitness Department of the Ministry of Health,” so it was not appropriate to send him too far away.

As for Ye Mengyan, Bei Wei really didn’t trust this young man to be on his own—God knows what he would get up to.

In comparison, Qian Shuixie was the best choice. The only issue was that he was married. For the first few months after the landing, it would be impossible for his family to join him, creating a long-distance separation, which was not ideal. Out of caution, Bei Wei specifically asked for his opinion.

“No problem. I’m a soldier now. A soldier’s duty is to obey orders,” Qian Shuixie stated without hesitation.

“Your wife—”

“It’s fine. She’s also found an overseas assignment now, and it just so happens I can’t go with her.”

Qian Shuixie’s wife, Zheng Shangjie, had been officially transferred to the Guangzhou station with the title of business representative. In the United States, Zheng Shangjie had been an agent for countless things: airline tickets, cosmetics, health supplements, insurance, travel companies, counterfeit phones… and so on. She was skilled in sales and promotion, so going to the Guangzhou station was a perfect fit for her profession.

“You’re quite at ease, letting your wife work in enemy territory.”

“It’s fine, she’s very capable.” Qian Shuixie chuckled. “By the way, when will our special reconnaissance team’s maid welfare funds be distributed…”

The appointment of someone who had just joined the team—and a member of the North American faction at that—as a detachment leader drew objections from some highly vigilant nationalists. Someone pointed out that the American influence in the special reconnaissance team was too strong. Not counting Qian Shuixie, two of the three current detachment leaders, Chen Sigen and Xue Ziliang, were American-born Chinese. With Qian Shuixie, three out of the four detachments would be in the hands of “Yankees”!

However, Qian Shuixie’s appointment was still issued—reportedly with the strong support of President Wen.

The fifteen men under Qian Shuixie’s command were all hand-picked native reconnaissance soldiers. They were not only highly skilled in combat but also completely reliable in terms of loyalty.

The special reconnaissance team had no real combat missions in Yulin. The task assigned to them by the landing command was to establish a long-range perimeter around Yulin Port and to intercept and provide early warning of any land-based personnel approaching the area. The mission itself was simple: in ancient society, Yulin was practically isolated from the rest of the world. Apart from the Li people from the interior and people gathering medicinal herbs or hunting, almost no one traveled to Yulin by land. It was less of a combat mission and more of a subtropical wilderness adaptation training exercise.

As for Qian Shuixie himself, he was to directly command a small team to escort a mining team to Tiandu.

“Everyone, check your equipment!” Qian Shuixie shouted. “Put on your life jackets!”

Everyone took out their kapok-filled life jackets, made in Lin’gao, and quickly put them on, tying them securely.

“All present and correct!” The NCOs in the team checked each soldier’s equipment, shouting their reports one after another.

The landing craft picked up speed, and spray began to fly into the boat.

“Protect your weapons!” Qian Shuixie quickly covered the muzzle of his submachine gun with a condom.

“Slow speed! Lookout, keep a sharp watch!” The captain of the landing craft was Meng De himself, at the helm. There were quite a few hidden reefs at the entrance of Dadonghai, and he didn’t trust the inexperienced native naval cadets to steer.

Meng De looked at his watch. It was a little less than ten minutes to 5 o’clock. T-hour was scheduled for 6 o’clock sharp. According to the landing plan, at T-1 hour, Yulin Fort would send out a pilot boat to meet the advance landing force. But so far, no small boat had appeared in sight. Meng De was a little anxious. The Type 67 craft had a radio, but he didn’t know Yulin Fort’s call frequency.

“Rowboat approaching from the 3 o’clock direction!” the lookout shouted.

“Sound the alarm, all hands to battle stations!” Meng De gave the order according to procedure. Amidst the blare of the siren, the starboard machine gun was aimed at the 3 o’clock direction.

“The boat has a flag,” the lookout continued to report. “A yellow flag.”

“Stand down!” It was the pilot boat from Yulin Fort. The yellow flag was the contact signal for the day.

The leader on the boat was Shi Jinxi, a corporal from the Yulin Fort marine detachment. He was a fisherman by birth. During his time in Yulin, he had been sailing out to fish and gather seaweed, which not only enriched their food supply but also allowed him to map out all the reefs, sandbars, shoals, and tidal currents along the entire Dadonghai coast. It was under his guidance that the survey team had drawn the nautical charts for the entire Dadonghai area.

Now, under orders from Wang Tao, he was here to guide the first landing fleet into Dadonghai.

The first landing formation, led by the rowboat, sailed into Dadonghai Bay. The chain of hidden reefs in Dadonghai had already been marked with buoys. The sea conditions here were not complicated, and with a little care, mistakes could be avoided.

Back at Yulin Fort, everyone was busy preparing to receive the first fleet. Starting a week ago, under the command of Bai Guoshi, the marines had marked the channel in the bay in front of Yulin Fort with buoys and divided the anchorage area. For this purpose, a whole shipload of buoys had been transported from Lin’gao a month in advance. Each buoy had a flagpole with a 6-meter-high flag for identification. The transmigrators were not yet able to produce brightly colored paint, so they had to use red flags dyed with local methods as markers.

To ensure the channel, landing zones, and anchorage areas could be correctly identified at night, some of the buoys were light buoys, equipped with gas lamps. The bottom of each buoy was a small gas generator, and one filling of fuel could last for six hours.

With the help of the advance personnel from the Lin’gao Construction Company, Yulin Fort had also made other preparations, including widening the water diversion channel, building a concrete reservoir as a fresh water supply station, and digging septic tanks for public toilets. After the first batch of laborers landed, they only needed to assemble the components transported by the ships. It would take less than an hour to complete the construction and put them into use.