Chapter 888 - Grain Supply
Grain constituted the bulk of the supplies. Jeju Island and Kaohsiung would require six months to achieve self-sufficiency; the Taiwan base in the Kaohsiung-Pingtung region would need at least four. This meant that from the launch of Operation Engine, five months' worth of grain for two hundred thousand refugees had to be secured, along with provisions for approximately ten thousand operational personnel.
Calculated by caloric requirements, each refugee needed 350 grams of brown rice daily—a relatively modest ration, justified by the fact that most refugees would not be assigned labor and would focus on recuperation. This translated to seventy tons of rice daily, 2,100 tons monthly, and 10,500 tons over five months. Operational personnel, meanwhile, would receive an average of 750 grams daily, consuming 225 tons monthly—1,200 tons for the duration. The Ministry of Health also recommended adding ten percent vegetables and protein to ensure refugee health, necessitating a steady supply of fresh produce and seafood. Most of this supplementary food could be produced on-site by organizing the refugees themselves, with the Heaven and Earth Society providing technical guidance, seeds, and tools.
These calculations did not include rations for Jeju Island's indigenous population. While the island surely maintained some grain reserves, it was never a significant agricultural producer—even in the twenty-first century, citrus remained its primary crop, with most land devoted to horse breeding. The island's grain had always depended on external supply.
"According to our intelligence," Thorpe said, "the Joseon Dynasty maintains a substantial superintendency on Jeju Island. Official slaves number at least ten thousand. To support them, the superintendency must maintain one or two months' grain reserves. The small commoner population should also have some stores, so immediate supply isn't necessary. But future provisioning must be planned."
Jeju Island lay relatively close to both the Korean Peninsula and Japan, making small-scale grain purchases from either feasible. Japan had begun restricting silver exports, but there was no indication of similar restrictions on rice.
Taiwan presented the greater challenge. No local grain purchasing channels existed. Indigenous agriculture remained primitive, with no surplus capacity. The Dutch focused on trade rather than cultivation. Although Fujian immigrants had been developing the Beigang area since Yan Siqi's time, and Zheng Zhilong continued sending settlers, Taiwan's grain production had never approached self-sufficiency—even into the Qing Dynasty, external supply remained necessary. Purchasing from Zheng Zhilong was unlikely. Buying grain from the mainland was equally impractical—Fujian had always been a grain-deficit province.
The bulk of grain supply would have to be transported from Lingao. The logistics department needed to prepare massive reserves, and the Planning Commission had already made contingency arrangements—the refugees extracted from Shandong and Zhejiang would require food and clothing, all of which had to be planned centrally.
The Lingao regime no longer controlled just Lingao County. Following the Summer Awakening Campaign, local governments across Qiongzhou had been fully brought under Senate control through the "Ming Skin, Australian Heart" model. The grain situation had improved—but only marginally.
The southern Qiongzhou counties possessed little arable land and contributed negligibly to grain reserves. Their tax figures told the story: Yazhou's grain tax reached three thousand shi, but counties like Gan'en and Huichang produced barely a thousand or even a few hundred. Northern Qiongzhou fared better, particularly Qiongshan and Wenchang, where agriculture was most developed—these constituted the prefecture's primary grain-producing regions. Work teams from the Civil Affairs People's Committee had begun "tax cleanup" operations in northern counties since the second half of 1630.
The total standard land tax and surcharges for all of Qiongzhou Prefecture amounted to 85,459 shi, collected partly in grain and partly in silver. Since Qiongzhou's commodity economy remained weak with limited silver circulation, most taxes were still paid in grain.
Of this quota, more than half—forty to fifty thousand shi—had to be shipped to the Capital, Provincial Departments, and Lianzhou. The remaining forty-odd thousand shi stayed in the prefecture for military pay, administrative expenses, and reserves. This remainder was what the Planning Commission could actually dispose of.
Of course, the actual grain paid by commoners far exceeded the official figure. Based on the Civil Affairs People's Committee and Tax General Bureau's cleanup work in Lingao, actual collections likely reached at least 140,000 shi. The surplus was simply embezzled at every level.
In other words, while maintaining existing burden levels, the Senate could collect 140,000 shi from Qiongzhou Prefecture. After paying the rated tax of forty-odd thousand shi to the Ming Dynasty, approximately 100,000 shi of brown rice remained for Senate use.
Beyond the land tax, the Planning Commission intended to acquire another ten to twenty thousand shi through direct purchases from farmers and landlords. However, completing these purchases required stimulating demand for currency. Until Senate enterprises could provide sufficient industrial goods to market in rural areas, this could only be achieved through taxation reform. The economists at Wudaokou believed that in the long term, monetized taxation represented the correct direction.
Collection, processing, and storage were long-term undertakings, not instantaneous. Fortunately, gathering and transporting refugees was equally gradual—not a sudden influx of 200,000 people at once. The Planning Commission still had adequate time to prepare.
Beyond the Senate's own reserves, the Summer Awakening Campaign had brought additional stocks under Planning Commission control: the five major official warehouses on Hainan Island. Qiongshan's Guangfeng Warehouse was rated for 16,000 shi annually; Danzhou's Dafeng Warehouse for 3,000; Changhua's Guangchu Warehouse for 5,600; Wanzhou's Guangji Warehouse for 4,000; and the Junchu and Qinglan Warehouses together for 13,000.
These warehouses were supposed to maintain reserves of tens of thousands of shi, primarily for "guarding against the Li." In the event of a major Li rebellion, imperial forces crossing the sea to suppress it could draw supplies locally.
Yet like all institutions in this world, the reality fell far short of the design. According to official records, accumulated grain in these warehouses should have totaled hundreds of thousands of shi. The actual situation proved devastating. The Planning Commission's Special Search Team, moving through the warehouses of every prefecture and county with troops and work teams, had grown accustomed to embezzlement. But the scale of the deficit in these five major warehouses still left the leading elder dumbfounded.
The actual usable inventory, after removing aged grain fit only for fodder, amounted to less than one-tenth of the recorded figures.
The Special Search Team subsequently conducted concentrated interrogations to recover stolen property from clerks, managers, and warehouse workers, seizing large amounts of property, grain, and land in the process. A modest harvest, all things considered.
"In the first phase, taking over the various official warehouses yielded ten thousand shi of brown rice and miscellaneous grains—approximately 9,000 tons," Wu De reported. "This is sufficient for startup reserves. Currently, our relief rations draw on our dried sweet potato stockpiles, of which we still have considerable quantities. This should roughly cover refugee consumption."
"This makes things rather tight—it feels like we're gambling our entire foundation," He Ming said, concern evident in his voice. Grain was the army's lifeline, and the thought of shipping away such quantities left him deeply uneasy.
Zhan Wuya shared the concern: "Beyond the army, we have large numbers of non-productive personnel in Lingao—administrators, students, workers. Supply for this group cannot be allowed to fail, or we risk shaking the very foundations of the state."
Wu De had already worked through these calculations: "Grain security is assured. First, the grain allocated to Operation Engine represents a net gain—we obtained it without adding to the population we support. Using it for refugees doesn't reduce existing reserves or increase our originally planned expenditure. Second, gaining political control over the entire island means gaining the power to collect the whole island's land tax for 1631. The revenue increase is significant—and stable, unlike one-time spoils of war."
Furthermore, the Planning Commission planned to expand grain imports as a key security measure, with Siamese rice as the focus. Vietnamese rice, once a reliable source, had become increasingly expensive and scarce as the Northern-Southern Dynasties War intensified. Cheap, plentiful Siamese rice became the Commission's next target for bolstering reserves. This would consume shipping tonnage, but overall, grain pressure was less severe than feared.
Wu De elaborated: refugee transport was a long-term operation. From the first shipment to final conclusion would take four or five months at minimum, possibly one or two years at most. As long as the first wave of refugees was organized promptly to clear land and plant fast-maturing crops at the transit camps, harvests could begin within three or four months. That grain could then replace a portion of the transported supply, meaning not all refugee rations needed to be shipped from Lingao.
The Agricultural Committee's early-maturing sweet potato varieties could be harvested in eighty to ninety days; potatoes and buckwheat also had suitable fast-growing cultivars. The Kaohsiung-Pingtung area, with average temperatures as high as 25°C and abundant rainfall, permitted year-round planting. Through rolling cultivation and staggered harvesting, by the time large-scale immigration from Zhejiang concluded, Kaohsiung's agriculture might not be able to supply Jeju Island—but a considerable degree of local self-sufficiency was achievable.
"If a supply shortage does occur," Wu De concluded, "we can also utilize the Hong Kong base. Purchasing grain directly in Guangdong and shipping it to Kaohsiung is straightforward—the distance is only 350 nautical miles. A round trip takes barely a week."