Chapter 504: Casualties

The moment he saw Wang Dou and the others, Hong Chengchou first offered his condolences, then impatiently inquired about the battle results. Hearing the headcount reported by Chi Dacheng, he could not help but burst into hearty laughter. Qiu Minyang, Cai Maode, and the others beside him were likewise overjoyed.

Yet Hong Chengchou was more concerned about one matter: "The Loyal and Brave Count claims to have slain the slave chieftain Ajige — is this truly so?"

He sincerely hoped it was true. The great battle for Jinzhou had just begun, and already one of their own Regional Commanders had fallen in combat — how was he to explain that to the court and the realm? But if they had subsequently slain a Commandery Prince of the Qing caitiffs, not only would the fault be offset by the merit, it would count as a tremendous achievement.

Wang Dou nodded. Zhang Ruoqi, his expression smug, declared with affected reserve, "Naturally it is true. I witnessed it with my own eyes — Ajige was struck dead by the cannons of my Jingbian Army!"

Hong Chengchou glanced around at those beside him and asked hopefully, "Did the royal army manage to seize Ajige's corpse and banner?"

Zhang Ruoqi's expression instantly turned deeply regretful: "We did not seize them."

Alas!

Everyone present sighed in unison, and Wu Sangui and the others in particular wore looks of chagrin.

Although the slaying of Ajige was an established fact, without his corpse and banner, any future discussion of merit would inevitably invite suspicion of impropriety.

For in the history of the Great Ming, reports of slaying enemy chieftains were beyond count. From the final years of the Wanli reign onward, among the Qing rulers and ministers that various officers and officials had reported killing — from Nurhaci to Huang Taiji, from Dorgon to Abatai — they had already died scores of times over, yet they all remained alive and well.

Although the presence of Army Supervisors Wang Chengen and Zhang Ruoqi could solidly corroborate this, future wrangling in court and the realm, and partisan attacks by the censors, would still be unavoidable.

Zhang Ruoqi said coldly, "Though we did not seize the slave chieftain's corpse, the slaying of the enemy chieftain is absolutely true. I expect that His Majesty and Lord Chen will surely render a sagacious judgment and will not chill the hearts of loyal and brave officers and men."

Wang Chengen also said, "I shall truthfully memorialize His Majesty and request merit for the frontline officers and men."

Hong Chengchou was extremely eager about this matter. He saluted Zhang Ruoqi and Wang Chengen and said earnestly, "In that case, I entrust this to the two Army Supervisors."

After many years as an official, he was a seasoned judge of character and could naturally see that Army Supervisor Zhang Ruoqi was intensely keen on military merit — he would work the angles without needing to be told. Army Supervisor Wang Chengen, though sinister and cold, was utterly loyal to the Emperor and would surely report frontline matters truthfully.

Still, he would need to do some maneuvering himself. He expected that each official would contribute some silver for these gratuities.

Thereafter everyone discussed the matter of future rewards and merits. Watching them all barely able to contain their delight, Wang Dou instead asked Chi Dacheng, "What are our army's casualty figures from this battle?"

Chi Dacheng replied, "Reporting to the Grand General, allied army casualties have not yet been tallied. However, our Jingbian Army has suffered over six hundred casualties in total. Among them, one hundred and sixty-five were killed in action. Ninety-eight are severely wounded. The remainder are lightly wounded, and most will recover after medical treatment and a few days of convalescence."

Among those who fought alongside Wang Dou — including Wu Sangui — none were particularly concerned about the casualty figures among their own troops. Only Wang Dou's Jingbian Army had tallied its own casualties at the first opportunity.

The Jingbian Army's casualties — those killed in action and the severely wounded — were concentrated among the cavalry, while the lightly wounded were concentrated among the infantry battalions.

Because when cavalry on both sides clashed with cold steel, the difference between life and death was decided in an instant. In that lightning-flash split second, one was either killed in battle or severely wounded and thrown from the horse. On the infantry positions, with their deadly firearms and cannons, the Tartar cavalry found it hard to close in. And against the Tartars' bows and arrows, the Jingbian Army all wore fine armor that arrows could scarcely penetrate.

Even if a man was struck by multiple arrows, he paid only the price of light wounds. Only those struck by javelins and the like, or some of the B-grade spearmen who sallied forth to fight hand-to-hand, might suffer severe wounds or be killed in action.

However, the heads taken by the Jingbian Army were heavily concentrated among the cavalry. They even seized the bodies and wounded of some Qing soldiers who had been struck down at a distance by Ming army cannons and rockets.

Within the infantry formations, relatively fewer heads were taken. When the Qing cavalry fled, many of them hauled the dead and wounded onto their horses. The Jingbian Army troops in the various wagon formations were mostly infantry and could not pursue in time. If the Qing cavalry attacking the formations truly wanted to flee, the Jingbian Army could hardly stop them — after all, each face of a wagon formation had only a few dozen matchlocks.

What comforted Wang Dou was that, according to Chi Dacheng's tally, although the Jingbian Army had suffered casualties, none of the fallen officers and men had had their heads taken by the Tartars to be used as trophies for claiming merit.

Intelligence had come that, to counter the rise of the Jingbian Army, Huang Taiji had specially issued a military ordinance: for anyone who took a single head of a Jingbian Army soldier, an ordinary soldier would be immediately promoted to zhuanda, or even assigned as a boshioku; a bondservant would immediately be allowed to raise his banner. It could be said that the military merit for slaying a Jingbian Army soldier was extremely weighty.

Fortunately, up to this point in the campaign, no Tartar had yet obtained a single Jingbian Army head.

After hearing Chi Dacheng's report, Wang Dou was silent for a moment, then said, "Take me to see the wounded and those who gave their lives for the nation."

Hong Chengchou also sighed and said, "The officers and men fought a bloody battle on the field and gave their lives for the nation. It is my duty as Viceroy to visit and console them as well!"

Everyone around chimed in their agreement, and so the group proceeded to the rear of the central army's hill. Here, tent after tent had been pitched, already forming a small field hospital.

At this moment, large numbers of Jingbian Army medical officers were bustling back and forth, intensely treating the wounded officers and men of the various armies. Because the Jingbian Army's medical officers were numerous and their methods outstanding, the wounded from the Ningyuan Army, the Shenji Battalion, Guo Yingxian's command, and other units had all been brought here. Of course, the wounded of the Jingbian Army were given first priority in treatment.

In particular, the Shenji Battalion soldiers on the left wing of the army formation — though their engagement time had been brief, under the Qing cavalry's rain of arrows they had suffered many wounded. Their tofu-dregs armor could not even defend against the Qing soldiers' cavalry bows. Without urgent treatment, many would bleed out and die.

As the group arrived here, they heard the groans of the wounded rising and falling one after another, along with wafts of the stench of blood, and the smells of alcohol and medicinal powder.

Large numbers of logistics soldiers and civilian laborers, acting as stretcher-bearers under the direction of Jingbian Army medical officers, were continuously carrying the wounded here. Outside each tent, large quantities of boiling water were being heated for disinfection purposes.

Fortunately in this battle, none of the armies had engaged the firearms and cannon units among the Qing troops, so most of the men had suffered only arrow wounds. As long as the wounds were not in vital areas and treatment was timely, most of the wounded could still survive.

However, the Qing army's arrows were vicious, and treating these wounds was no easy matter.

Their arrowheads were mostly large and heavy, with several deep blood grooves carved into them, making wound suturing difficult. Some arrowheads even had barbs — if one dared to pull them straight out, the victim would certainly bleed to death. Therefore, when extracting these arrowheads, one had to cut the wound wider on all four sides before the arrowhead could be removed.

In this era, with no anesthetics or such medicines available, many of the wounded, when their flesh was being cut, wailed for their fathers and mothers, howling without cease. The Jingbian Army officers and men, when being treated, could still endure the pain. But the soldiers of the Shenji Battalion and other units wept and wailed with all their might, grating on the listeners' nerves. Combined with the blood flowing like streams, it made onlookers tremble with fear and chill to the heart.

Hong Chengchou and the others watched for a while and found the Jingbian Army's medical methods an eye-opening experience.

Before treatment, they first used boiling water and saline solution to clean the body and the area around the wound, washing repeatedly several times. They also used large wads of pure white cotton, soaked in something called alcohol, to continuously wipe away the blood clots from the wounds. For the more severely wounded soldiers, the cotton needed piled up in heaps.

And that alcohol — according to Wang Dou, it was purified from white liquor and could effectively prevent later wound infection. These were all fine things, of course, but to expend so much just to treat one ordinary soldier — how could any army afford to maintain troops like this?

In this age, except for some retainers and personal guards, or soldiers of the main battalions, who might have their wounds bandaged with cloth strips, even washing wounds with saline solution and white liquor was rare, because the various officers were loath to part with the expense.

Everyone thought: with such medical treatment to relieve their rear worries, no wonder the Jingbian Army was so daring in battle. But only Wang Dou was willing to spend so freely.

And this was only the initial stage. After washing the wounds time and again, medicine was applied, and finally something called gauze was used to wrap each man's wound tightly and securely. Thereafter there would be regular dressing changes, plus oral medication, until full recovery.

Watching the varied expressions of Hong Chengchou and the others, and the civilian laborers looking on and whispering enviously among themselves, Wang Dou was unimpressed.

Although to the officials and generals of this era, the casualties among their subordinates were just numbers, to Wang Dou, behind every number was a human life.

Life was precious. How much time did it take for the Eastern Route to make guns and cannons? But a single human life, from birth to adulthood, took at least eighteen years.

How long was eighteen years? How much energy did it take for a person to grow that old? Though human life was cheap in the Great Ming at this time, to Wang Dou, human life was valuable. Especially the wounded soldiers were even more valuable — if they recovered and returned to their units, another fierce warrior was born.

The Jingbian Army had many medical officers, and at this moment, the wounded officers and men of every army were all receiving proper care.

Many wounded soldiers who had thought themselves doomed, after receiving treatment, were all profuse in their gratitude, weeping with thankfulness. Among the various Ming army units now gathered in Liaodong, many might be envious of the Jingbian Army, but the one thing no one would ever resent or envy was the Jingbian Army's medical officers.

Wang Dou's group passed through the tents one by one. The wounded Jingbian Army soldiers all lay quietly. When they saw the various officials and generals pass by, their gazes toward Hong Chengchou and the others were indifferent. Only when they saw Wang Dou did expressions of excitement and reverence appear.

Chief Medical Officer Wang Tianxue came over to report to Wang Dou: "Among our Jingbian Army's wounded and fallen, all of the lightly wounded can be treated and fully recover. Nearly half of the severely wounded can be saved and brought back!"

Wang Dou nodded. In that case, the Jingbian Army might have lost a little over two hundred men killed in action, but they had slain several thousand of the enemy in this battle — the results were remarkable. It was also fortunate that what they had faced in this battle was the Qing army's bows and arrows. Had they faced their firearms and cannons, the outcome might not have been so favorable.

However, Wang Tianxue went on to say that after treatment, the wounded officers and men needed a good place to recuperate. With the weather now scorching hot, it would be best to move them to a cool, shaded location.

Wang Dou nodded. Songshan Fort lay in low-lying terrain, naturally cool and shaded — moving the wounded into the fort to convalesce could not be better. Wang Dou also planned to establish a convalescent hospital inside the fort specifically for the wounded to recover.

At the mention of this, Hong Chengchou sighed and said, "Rest at ease, Loyal and Brave Count. I shall certainly see this matter done!"

Passing by one tent, Wang Dou halted his steps. Inside was a severely wounded Jingbian Army musketeer. He had been struck by a javelin that passed through his chest — even the medical officers were powerless to help.

A morale officer from his unit was tightly gripping his hand, while several medical officers stood solemnly to the side.

The musketeer lay on a simple cot, struggling to chant in fits and starts, his voice growing fainter and fainter, until at last it could no longer be heard.

"...Loyal and brave warriors, through ten thousand tribulations you shall not perish. Heaven and earth in primal chaos, your true spirits shall endure forever..."