Chapter 126: The Reserve Force
Hu Qingbai thought to himself: You wish you could slip away! He would never consider Xiao Zhaochuan; the man was a rare, professionally trained high school chemistry teacher, far more important than a middle school math teacher. Jiang Youzhong was a possibility. He wasn’t a professionally trained teacher, but he had teaching experience. Bai Yu was another option, but he was a “work-study” teacher who frequently took apprentices to various enterprises. He was familiar with the system and knew a bit about machinery. If he were gone for so long, the work-study program would be difficult to manage…
He mentally reviewed the Yuanen teachers one by one, weighing who could be sent with the least impact on the curriculum. Of course, he couldn’t voice these thoughts aloud. At least two Yuanen teachers would have to be sent as field teachers: one for Jeju Island and one for Taiwan. He shuffled the permanent Yuanen teachers in his mind several times but still couldn’t settle on a final selection.
At noon, the Yuanen teachers of Fangcao di ate together. Fangcao di was far from the Yuanen cafeteria in Bairen City, so the teachers took turns sending their life secretaries to collect ingredients and cook at the school. Bai Yu’s life secretary had been a kitchen maid in a wealthy household and was a skilled cook. After some modern culinary training, she had taken over the responsibility for the small kitchen at Fangcao di.
The meals weren’t extravagant, but they were exquisitely prepared, with a different menu every day. Yet, the group seemed to lack appetite. When Hu Qingbai brought up the topic of the deployment again at the dining table, the Yuanen teachers fell silent. Most of the Yuanen who worked at Fangcao di were people who preferred a comfortable and peaceful life, with little ambition for grand achievements. The Executive Committee and the Senate placed great importance on education, investing heavily in Fangcao di, which boasted complete facilities and a pleasant environment. The thought of leaving this small haven to brave the stormy seas on a sailboat and live in a tent on Jeju Island or Taiwan was, naturally, met with little enthusiasm.
After some internal struggle, Jiang Youzhong was pressured into agreeing to be a field teacher—though he declared he would not go to Taiwan, only to Jeju Island. The malaria problem in Taiwan was a constant source of fear among the Yuanen.
Hu Qingbai was about to continue his mobilization efforts when Ji Xin spoke up: “I’ll go to Taiwan then.”
Everyone knew that this core member of the Law Society had a peculiar personality. For instance, he was one of the few who refused to have a life secretary. Besides his teaching duties at Fangcao di and his activities at the Law Society, he spent his time tinkering with his “Aboriginal Rights Protection Association.” This club had been viewed with suspicion since its inception. Coupled with his usual taciturn nature and impassive expression, some even thought he had mental problems.
Hu Qingbai, however, knew that his mind was perfectly fine; he just had different pursuits. He showered Ji Xin with compliments and made several reassuring promises to both him and Jiang Youzhong.
Zhu Mingxia stretched his long limbs and gazed out the window at the training ground. Soldiers were on the equipment—horizontal bars, parallel bars, balance beams, rope bridges… Crowds of soldiers surrounded each piece of training apparatus. From time to time, a cheer would erupt for someone’s outstanding performance.
For the soldiers of the Fubo Army, burdened by combat, guard duty, and labor support tasks, this training equipment was less for training and more for physical recreation.
Some were also playing a game of rugby on the newly completed field. This sport, which had started with the militia in Yanchang Village, had spread to every corner of Lin’gao. As a highly organized and confrontational game, it had become widely popular in the army as well.
Ma Niao Fort was like a beehive: bugle calls, drum beats, commands, shouts, and army songs… it was buzzing from morning till night.
Zhu Mingxia knew that the Yuanen outside Ma Niao Fort had also been in a heated debate about the attack on Dengzhou. There were staunch opponents and fervent supporters, each with their own reasons. In the end, the decision was made to meddle in the Dengzhou situation. The development of Hainan required a large population, and a diverse population was also easier to govern.
After Operation Engine was approved, a massive shipbuilding program was launched. The Army, of course, could only continue to “endure.” Fortunately, the Executive Committee had promised at a military affairs meeting that once Operation Engine was completed, the Army would be expanded by one infantry battalion, along with several support units.
“I wonder when we’ll get a new battalion,” Zhu Mingxia sighed. As the commander of the 4th Battalion, the army’s sole reserve force, he was keenly aware of the current manpower shortage.
As the Army’s general reserve, the 4th Battalion had been run ragged in the latter half of the previous year. While the other battalions were scattered across Hainan conducting pacification operations, his battalion, in addition to its garrison duties in Lin’gao, was constantly being pulled away for various tasks: from harvesting crops to serving as longshoremen and road workers… they hardly had a day of rest.
It was only after the pacification of Northern Qiongshan was complete and some battalions began to return to their posts that the 4th Battalion finally got a chance to breathe. The General Staff then issued a “Regularization Construction Outline,” demanding that the entire army undergo regularization. After several months of soliciting opinions, new versions of instructional documents like the “Infantry Drill Manual” and “Training Outline” were distributed, requiring training to be conducted according to these new standards.
Zhu Mingxia was quite satisfied with the new training outline. At least, military training now had a proper framework.
This reminded him of when the New Army was first formed. There had been a fierce debate then too, not about whether to form it, but about how to train it.
At that time, the debate on training was between the so-called “New Style” and “Old Style” factions. The New Style faction wanted to train according to the training outlines of the US Army or the PLA, while the Old Style faction wanted to follow the training systems of 19th-century armies. The former was mainly composed of former soldiers, the latter of military enthusiasts.
Zhu Mingxia had been in the Armed Police and, by background, belonged to the New Style faction. However, he opposed a wholesale copy of modern army training systems and outlines. The reason was simple: the organization, training system, command methods, and even the rank system of a military force are ultimately determined by the level of its equipment. You can’t have line infantry tactics without flintlock muskets, and once you have repeating rifles, there’s no need to keep line infantry tactics.
“We cannot train the New Army according to modern US or Chinese army training outlines—absolutely not. We need to create a training plan based on the actual condition of our recruits and our equipment. I also oppose directly copying the training models of 19th-century European armies. Any form of simple imitation is unscientific. We must consider the physical and cultural conditions of these natives, as well as our own weaponry, to formulate a reasonable training plan.”
The Chief of the General Staff at the time was Ma Qianzhu. He agreed with Zhu Mingxia’s view and asked him to provide a detailed training plan.
Zhu Mingxia worked overtime, drawing on his own experience and ideas, and created a training plan tailored to the actual condition of the recruited soldiers.
In this plan, he cut Ma Qianzhu’s mandated daily 5-kilometer run. Instead, new recruits would run once a week (on Fridays) in the first month, twice a week (Mondays and Fridays) in the second month, and three times a week (Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays) in the third month. After joining their units, they would run three times a week. Military training would be from Monday to Friday, while weekends would be for political education and literacy classes.
This change drew significant dissatisfaction from the New Style faction. Almost all of them were PLA veterans and were deeply influenced by its traditions. They had a special fondness for route marches and armed cross-country runs. To them, a daily 5-kilometer run was the most basic training for a soldier. Especially in this new world, without mechanized transport, troop combat and movement, aside from boat travel, relied entirely on walking.
But Zhu Mingxia stuck to his guns. The reason was simple: compared to modern youths with relatively adequate nutrition, the native soldiers were almost all malnourished. Calcium deficiency was common. And Lin’gao was unable to significantly improve the nutritional structure of the soldiers’ diet. Therefore, training should not be excessive.
High-intensity training required large supplements of protein and calcium. Even Fu Sansi had to admit this; stress fractures were common in the recruit camp. Frequent high-intensity exercise and running would lead to a significant loss of calcium, and without timely replenishment, it would cause fractures.
This system had been in place ever since. Now, with the formal compilation of the training outline, the training methods he had proposed were officially included. His repeated suggestions to establish new dietary standards for the soldiers had also been answered.
In the past, the Yuanen Senate’s food standard for the Fubo Army was primarily based on caloric intake. The standard was to provide enough staple food to eat one’s fill and an unlimited supply of vegetables. Seafood, soy products, meat, and poultry were only supplied as “rewards.” Later, as conditions improved, they could only slightly improve the meals once a week. Overall, protein and fat intake were severely insufficient, which did little to improve the soldiers’ physical condition. The naturalized soldiers were all hardworking and resilient, but that didn’t mean their low supply level should be maintained.
Under the new dietary standards, Fubo Army soldiers received more protein than before. Seafood became the main source of protein, and the supply of soy products was also significantly increased.
Fats and oils, previously only available as “rewards,” now had a clear daily supply standard. Of course, the standard was still low, and the types of oils were varied, with even fish oil listed as a supply item.
Looking at the new food supply standards, Zhu Mingxia sighed with emotion, “We’re finally getting a bit wealthier.”
Over the past few years, Zhu Mingxia had watched the Fubo Army grow step by step. From the attack on Baitu, to the mountain campaigns against bandits, to the fierce battle of Maidan, the Fubo Army had constantly exposed various problems. The Yuanen officers had adjusted and readjusted based on the problems that arose. Finally, it resembled a real army. The Fubo Army now had a soul. When an army has a soul, no matter how its designation or organization changes, it becomes an intangible asset passed down through generations.