Chapter 2149 - Reorganization Training (II)

Such matters represented nothing novel to soldiers—strict military law constituted a hallmark of medieval armies. The "Seventeen Prohibitions and Fifty-Four Capital Offenses" boasted long pedigree, with scarcely a single infraction escaping beheading. Even a famous general as skilled at commanding troops as Qi Jiguang had enforced extremely harsh military orders.

However, military law strictness and whether it could actually be enforced constituted two different matters. Especially among Ming forces they'd absorbed from the Pearl River Delta region—these were troops that had enjoyed peace for extended periods in late Ming terms, inevitably growing "slack and indolent." Many actually originated from military colony backgrounds and had never served as professional soldiers; they bore "soldier" titles, yet really were merely peasants.

The forceful, murderous reading of regulations immediately set many of these peasant-born soldiers trembling.

For old military hands like Yang Erdong, however, these regulations held nothing special. If any difference existed, Australian regulations proved somewhat simpler than Ming military law—even gentler, in certain ways. After all, the entire proclamation never mentioned the word "behead." In Imperial forces, every military discipline announcement required that bloody "kill" or "behead." To impress lessons upon soldiers, such occasions usually featured a few unlucky wretches being executed on spot, their dripping heads hung for all to see.

When commands finished, actual drilling commenced.

Most men in this National Army battalion had already received approximately two weeks of reorganization training in Hong Kong. Yet those two weeks had included physical examinations, political education, physical conditioning, and basic discipline formation—actual time spent on drill proved quite limited. Qian Duo didn't trust such troops to fight, or even hold walls; he was in a hurry.

Qian Duo divided the National Army battalion into two groups. The first consisted of soldiers who'd undergone two weeks of Hong Kong training; they'd at least been introduced to discipline and formation drills, so their focus would be tactical development, including firearms shooting, cold-weapon combat, and battle formation maneuvers.

As for newly conscripted men who'd been called up just before departure, and locally recruited soldiers in Wuzhou—they would have to start from scratch.

Troops split into two groups and headed to respective drill grounds. Training was organized by company, with each company assigned ten instructors at one-to-ten ratio. All instructors were Beiwei Army corporals and sergeants. Even if their combat experience wasn't particularly rich, they'd served in forces at minimum two years, and regulations and formations had been drilled into them until they could recite them in their sleep.

Because Yang Erdong belonged among locally recruited deserters, he was naturally placed in the "full training recruits" cohort.

First training content was formation drill—each man memorizing his position in formation and falling in quickly upon assembly. This wasn't too difficult: memorize the men in front, behind, left, and right, and you could take your spot quickly. Once instructors drilled simple commands "Attention!" and "Dress right!" they issued no further orders. Instead, they paced in circles around each squad, hands clasped behind backs, gripping three-foot-long unfinished wooden truncheons. Anyone who craned neck or moved hands to scratch an itch immediately received a blow.

"If you haven't heard a new command, no one moves!" Instructors bared teeth and brandished clubs.

This standing lasted a full hour. Everyone who moved during that time received a stroke. Some with weaker constitutions bent over and vomited all over ground, then got hit again; others couldn't endure and begged instructors for mercy, only to be beaten until they cowered and scurried, then clubbed back into formation to hold out somehow. Only those who actually fainted were spared beating—they were dragged aside and revived with buckets of cold water to faces.

Yang Erdong, having "seen much of the world," recognized immediately that Australians were "serious about this." He didn't even dare steal glances around, and could only let screams enter one ear and exit the other. After half a shi had passed, this ordeal finally ended.

They rested for part of an incense stick's burning time; then "Attention!" again. Instructors appointed temporary squad leaders and sergeants, made every man memorize their faces, demonstrated how to salute, then pointed at their own shoulder insignia and announced: from now on, anyone failing to salute when encountering someone wearing an armband would receive ten strokes of military staff and be made to squat for two hours. This time they stood until dinner break. Worst-performing squad in each company had to keep standing until everyone else finished eating before being allowed to eat.

Lunch was served on drill ground itself—white rice and mixed vegetable stew, all you could eat. The stew arrived in large tin buckets, steaming hot and fragrant, though unappetizing in appearance. Yang Erdong closed eyes and took a bite: the taste wasn't bad; there seemed to be some meat in it—though exactly what, no one could tell.

After lunch and brief rest, afternoon training began. This was when real test started: instructors spoke entirely in "New Speech," while soldiers spoke all manner of dialects. If they possessed any common language at all, it was Guangzhou Mandarin.

Apart from a few "worldly" soldiers—like Yang Erdong, who understood "official speech" and could therefore grasp sixty or seventy percent of New Speech—most soldiers found New Speech about as comprehensible as foreign tongue.

And so afternoon drill became brutal listening exercise. Instructors issued commands only in New Speech, sometimes accompanied by physical cues; any comprehension error earned a "mental injection" via military truncheon.

Since commands were incomprehensible and regulations innumerable—there was the Soldier's Handbook, true, but most soldiers were illiterate and couldn't possibly remember it all—beatings proved constant throughout drill grounds. While being beaten, one had to recite one's own offense aloud—in New Speech, naturally; mispronunciation also earned more clubbing. After enough beatings, everyone figured out the pattern: the rule was, whatever you hadn't been ordered to do, you were absolutely forbidden to do. Anyone who did it got the club.

By evening, when they returned to quarters—the new training company was billeted in Three Generals' Residence, in empty halls spread with dry straw, providing shelter from wind and rain, quite decent lodging for soldiers used to sleeping rough—everyone had legs too stiff to bend and aches all over. They barely managed to crawl onto their straw pallets.

"The beatings I took today outnumber all beatings of my last twenty years put together..." Li Pudun sat gingerly on his straw mat, wincing and complaining. He too was a surrendered soldier from Wuzhou.

"At least the Australians use thin wooden rods. If this were Ming officers, we'd have been beaten to death today..."

"Don't even mention the military staff—they can whip the flesh right off you!" said one soldier. "I saw it once, years ago. A chunk of flesh as big as your palm flew up and stuck to the flagpole. You could see the bone beneath... horrifying."

"Soldiering for pay is never easy! Just our bad luck!" sighed another. "My father died when I was fifteen, so I had to go soldiering for my meals. To this day I don't know how my family is doing, whether my old mother is all right..."

"How is she? Your mother's found a new daddy for you..."

"Go to hell!" The offended soldier was about to throw a punch when others pulled them apart.

"Haven't you had enough beatings? You want to hand them your head?!" Yang Erdong intervened. "Look at the time! The Australians would love for you to act up so they can execute a few for discipline."

"Brother Erdong is right. We're all comrades-in-arms here—stop stirring up trouble."

"The Australians are fierce, but at least they don't kill randomly. And the food is good! I just wonder how long this Australian rice will last!"

"Wanting rice to eat? Easy—if we can't eat Australian rice, we'll eat Ming rice again..."

"Stop your damn death-wishing!" An older soldier cut him off. "You tired of living?!"

Just then, a voice shouted from outside: "You lot! Don't just lie there like corpses—get up and soak your feet!"

"Your mother..." Li Pudun muttered under breath. "A whole day of torment and still no peace!"

"Never mind. We're under their roof now. We eat Australian rice, so we have to take their orders." Others tried placating him as they dragged themselves off pallets and limped outside.

Standing outside was Company Commander Li Dong. He'd served two years in Beiwei Army before being discharged for flat feet, and had been recalled into National Army as officer when conscription resumed. In the view of conscripts in new training company, Commander Li was a bit too young, and therefore "too green." But after a full day of being "worked hard" by Li Dong, no one dared call him green anymore.

"After training, all personnel will wash up and soak feet," he announced, sweeping eyes over ragged soldiers. "You! Pair up in twos and go to mess hall to fetch hot water. You lot, go to supply store and draw wooden basins!"

Under supervision of officers and instructors, entire new training company washed up, soaked feet, and then lanced blisters. Soaking feet helped relieve fatigue; lancing blisters aided marching—soldiers knew this well, but in camp they rarely possessed means: wooden basins and hot water weren't easily obtained. Sometimes, when luck ran out, lacking even drinking water, never mind foot-soaking!

The Australians had it easy—not only did they provide for foot-soaking, they issued one basin per person. Each soldier was ordered to carve his name on his basin. Yang Erdong thought this extravagant: one basin each, and just for their National Army battalion, that was three or four hundred. These basins clearly weren't local products; they must have been shipped from Lingao by Australians.

No wonder gentry all declared Australians "extravagant" and "fussy."

"Once you've carved your name, the basin is yours to keep!" came the order. "Basins may not be shared or borrowed—if discovered, this will be treated as disciplinary offense! Loss or damage must be reported truthfully!"

Instructions done, instructors did not leave but supervised personally. They didn't leave until every man had finished his personal hygiene, then inspected carefully, with no cutting of corners.

Supper was mixed vegetable rice porridge, tasting exactly like noon stew, just with rice cooked in. After eating, everyone thought they might finally relax—but no: Li Dong announced that "Cultural Study" was to commence.

(Chapter End)