Chapter 124 - Radio Calisthenics

The columns of each class were led by their class monitors, marching in step onto the playground, one team after another. All the students marched to the rhythm of the march, their steps in unison, their formations neat. They looked full of fighting spirit.

The student at the head of one class held high a red triangular pennant—this was the championship flag for the weekly drill competition. The winning class could get an improvement in their meals for the week.

Each class marched along a specific route. The columns of each class entered the playground from three directions. The teams merged into a wide column of 16 ranks before entering the playground, and then, through complex transformations, they returned to small columns of 2 ranks before taking their positions. Not only were multiple columns moving on the playground at the same time, but they were also marching in multiple directions, with the various columns crossing each other’s paths on the playground and roads. It seemed intricate and complex, but each column marched without interfering with the others. The timing of the column crossings was extremely precise. As the last person of one column passed, another column would cross its path. With dozens of class columns marching at the same time, if any team’s speed or rhythm was slightly off, the teams would collide.

This was no longer ordinary drill performance, but a higher level of precision drill. For modern armies, precision drill training only served to cultivate military bearing and as a military performance. But for the armies of the line-infantry era, precision drill was of crucial importance for formation changes in combat.

“Not bad,” said the Fubo Army officer who had been watching with his hands behind his back. “This level of drill is on par with the recruit battalions I’ve led.” He then commented, “It’s several orders of magnitude better than the black uncles who came for training and observation. I just don’t know how it compares to the Old Guard and the Lobsterbacks that Wen Zong is always talking about.”

Hu Qingbai was too embarrassed to boast and just smiled without saying a word.

Wu De shook his head and laughed, “Old Fu, don’t blow your own horn. I’ve been in a recruit battalion too. Could the greenhorns at the end of their three-month training have this level of drill? I’d say it’s half the level of the Dalian Surface Ship Academy.”

The Elder called Old Fu shook his head repeatedly, “You’re going on about your naval superiority again…” He had just finished speaking when his expression suddenly changed, and he muttered to himself, “Damn, why are the students marching in the navy’s drill style? This isn’t scientific.”

The Fubo Army’s land and naval forces had completely different drill styles. The army followed the traditional PLA version, which was of the German school in terms of drill style, while the navy had followed the British drill style from the very beginning. Now, the students of the National School on the playground were marching with small steps and high arm swings, which was clearly the navy’s British-style drill.

“How is it not scientific? I think it’s very scientific,” Wu De said, waving his hand. “Look, the students’ spirit is very good.”

“They do have a bit of a military bearing,” the Elder officer said, not knowing what to say in rebuttal, but clearly unconvinced, feeling as if he had been hit with a blunt object. “…This isn’t scientific…”

The National School implemented a quasi-military management system, with a certain amount of military training each month, mainly drill training. By convention, the army would send senior corporals or sergeants in rotation to serve as training instructors. However, since the Summer Awakening campaign last year, the long security warfare in northern and southern Qiongzhou had exhausted the army’s human resources. Almost all army units were withdrawn, leaving only a garrison battalion and the 5th Infantry Battalion of the general reserve in Lin’gao. As a result, the army was no longer able to send sergeants for training, so the military training instructors at Fangcaodi were all taken over by the navy.

As they were talking, the columns on the playground had all taken their positions. Following the commands from the loudspeaker, the students in the columns quickly trotted to open up the distance, forming the spacing for radio calisthenics.

“The flag-raising ceremony will now begin! Present the flag!”

Following the command from the loudspeaker, the flag bearer and flag guards, selected from among the students, marched out from the main entrance of the office building in goose-step, heading towards the flagpole. The flag held by the flag bearer was the newly established national flag of the Council of Elders.

The national flag and national anthem had been rather sensitive issues in the past, so the Elders had been somewhat vague about them at the beginning. With the victory against the encirclement and the control of the entire island, the past practice of biding their time and deliberately blurring their political identity was no longer appropriate. Continuing to maintain this politically ambiguous image internally would only make the native people and Guihua under their rule feel lost about their own identity. If this continued, the people’s hearts could not be stabilized.

Although the Council of Elders still retained the local officials and yamen of the Ming Dynasty throughout Qiongzhou Island, this was purely for the consideration of not wanting to completely break with the Ming Dynasty for the time being. In actual operation, not only were these bureaucratic institutions completely sidelined, but the new regime’s institutions were appearing more and more frequently in social life, and the presence of the Ming government was becoming weaker and weaker.

In the past, the Council of Elders had not formally established a national flag. The Star and Fist Red Flag served not only as the military flag of the Fubo Army but also as the de facto national flag. However, the pattern of this flag was a bit too complex and not very suitable from a flag design perspective.

After discussion in the Council of Elders, it was finally decided that the national flag would be the “Morning Star Flag,” with the creative idea copied from the flag of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization. The pattern was a shining North Star in a dark blue night sky. The pattern was simple, clear, and easy to identify. In terms of meaning, the ancients greatly revered the North Star, believing it to be fixed and that all other stars revolved around it. It is a star whose brightness and position in the night sky are relatively stable. Because the North Star is closest to the true north, people on Earth have relied on its light for navigation for thousands of years, so it also has the meaning of guidance, leadership, and eternal protection, symbolizing the status and role of the Elders. As a national flag, it was very much in line with the idea of the new empire established by the Council of Elders.

As for the national anthem, “Sing to the Motherland” had always been used as the de facto national anthem. However, some Elders believed that this song lacked enough “imperialist” flavor and strongly demanded the use of the national anthems of old-world superpowers such as “The Unbreakable Union” and “The Star-Spangled Banner.” After some discussion, it was finally decided to adopt the national anthem of an old imperialist country, “Rule, Britannia,” and rewrite the lyrics to become “Rule, Council of Elders.”

“Sing to the Motherland” was designated as the second national anthem, used for general occasions. In addition, the lyrics of “The Star-Spangled Banner” and “The Unbreakable Union” were also changed, becoming “The Morning Star Flag Forever Waves” and “The Empire as Solid as a Rock,” respectively, as patriotic songs. Under the shadow of the Council of Elders’ bad taste, more and more songs were plagiarized. “La Marseillaise” had long been turned into “The Song of Bopu.” Then, “The Sacred War,” “The Soviet March,” “Deutschland über Alles,” and “The Imperial March” were also victims, with their lyrics rewritten. Except for “The Sacred War,” which retained its original name, they were changed to “The Council of Elders’ March,” “The Empire Above All,” and “The Imperial March.”

“Our collection of patriotic songs will probably become the longest in history,” Dingding commented after the meeting. “Of course, the collection of military songs will also become very thick and heavy.”

Fang Fei was even more worried, because these songs all had to be taught and learned, which was not a light task. Moreover, most of these songs were in foreign languages. While it was easy to change the lyrics, it was not so easy to sing them. And some of the lyrics might be very fitting in ten or twenty years, but using them now would be a bit ridiculous, such as “from the Pacific to the Ural Mountains”—the territory ruled by the Council of Elders was currently only Hainan Island.

“Raise the national flag, sing the national anthem. Salute!”

The loudspeakers blared majestic music, and the students of the National School began to sing the newly finalized national anthem, “Rule, Council of Elders,” in unison.

When the Council of Elders, by Heaven’s command, Arose from out the azure main, This was the charter, the charter of the land, And guardian angels sang this strain: Rule, Empire, Empire rule the waves, the land, and the sky, The people of the Empire shall be masters of the world.

The sacred Council of Elders, far above the kings and princes of the nations under heaven, Shall be subdued, Subdued, subdued, subdued, The kings and princes of all under heaven.

When the Empire flourishes, When the Empire shall flourish and prosper, The subjects of foreign lands, Shall watch with envy and fear: Rule, Council of Elders, The Empire rules all the waves and the land, The people of the Empire shall be masters of the world.

Several thousand students stood at attention and sang in unison, their voices soaring to the clouds. The Morning Star Flag rose slowly up the flagpole with the song. The Elders on the third floor also stood at attention, saluting the flag.

The national flag was raised. The loudspeakers began to play the MP3 of the “Third Set of Radio Calisthenics.” Only then did Hu Qingbai introduce the Fubo Army officer to Yuan Ziguang:

“This is Major Fu Sansi, now the director of the General Staff Training Department. He’ll soon be the Inspector General of Training, hahaha…”

“Don’t say it before it’s official.”

Fu Sansi said, saluted, and then shook hands with Yuan Ziguang. He was a sturdy middle-aged man, a former PLA infantry company commander like He Ming, but he was junior to He Ming in seniority and had no combat experience. He had also joined the transmigration cause much later than others. So he had always been an ordinary Elder officer until he was promoted to battalion commander a few months before the Chengmai campaign.

After the security warfare in northern Qiongzhou basically ended, Fu Sansi proposed to the Army Department that he no longer serve as an infantry battalion commander. He had been injured during combat readiness training while serving in the PLA, and his body could no longer handle the physical demands of being an infantry officer, so he applied to be a military training instructor.

The Executive Committee had originally considered establishing the position of Inspector General of Military Training in its military system design, but at that time there was no suitable candidate, so the position had remained vacant. Now that Fu Sansi had volunteered to be a military instructor, he was a suitable candidate in terms of both qualifications and practical skills. He Ming then transferred him to be the director of the General Staff Training Department first.