Chapter 192: Farmer-Soldiers

At Wenden Camp's No. 3 Fort, Zhou Shao'er and a few old brothers including Chen Ying were watching the farmer-soldiers train. No. 3 Fort was built on the military fields of the old Wenden Camp, with five Company Commander in total, forming one farmer-soldier battalion. The fort here had only a thin perimeter wall; outside the wall lay their fields, along with a parade ground.

Two hundred and fifty farmer-soldiers formed a square formation, advancing across the drill ground. With no farm work in winter, the farmer-soldiers trained to standard each month and received five qian of silver — a good way to improve their lives during the cold season. Many family members also came to the drill ground to watch the bustle, and quite a few children stood at the edge of the ground, shouting and yelling at the ranks.

Zhong Lao Si, a veteran from the seventh year of Tianqi, had never been promoted, a victim of his own mouth. He had performed outstandingly in the Four Cities battle, but after returning to Weihai he still couldn't control that mouth of his, complaining everywhere about Huang Yuan's tactics at Luanzhou. He was finally thrown into the farmer-soldier system by Huang Yuan, who had by then been promoted to Squad Commander. Among the officers leading Weihai's farmer-soldier experimental unit, he was the only veteran from Tianqi seven. Zhu Daichun had always treated the old brothers well, and Zhong Lao Si was richly experienced. After the experimental unit's intensive training, Zhu Daichun rated him very highly, and the Central Army Department assigned him to No. 3 Fort as a drill instructor. It wasn't far from Wenden Camp's combat battalion either; whenever Zhou Shao'er and the others had leave, they would come find him to go drinking.

The pace drums on the drill ground beat without pause. Nearly two hundred farmer-soldiers were arrayed in six rows, with ninety-six pikemen in the center and forty-eight firearms soldiers on each wing. They still carried matchlock guns — the combined-mechanism arquebuses. There was a gap of several paces between the pikes and the firearms soldiers. Zhong Lao Si stood at the center position behind the formation, flanked by two drummers, two pipe-trumpeters, and a standard-bearer. Behind him was a fifty-man firearms detachment. The assistant instructor stood five paces in front of the formation's center, so that everyone could see his saber.

The entire formation managed well enough when advancing in a straight line, but when Zhong Lao Si simulated flanking cavalry on the wing and the main body was ordered to turn and take precautions, they needed to execute a fan-shaped maneuver. The formation turned into something resembling a wriggling earthworm. The farmer-soldiers were all in chaotic disarray; no matter how much the instructors beat them, they still failed to complete the turn within the allotted time. The surrounding family members watching were some shouting, some laughing, a cacophony of chatter, exactly as if they were watching a grand opera.

Zhou Shao'er and his companions naturally knew how difficult it was for such a large formation to turn. They all ached for Zhong Lao Si's headache. Finally, after much beating and shouting, the training concluded. At the end of the march, the instructors began checking the matchlords of the arquebusiers one by one. Anyone whose match had gone out was subjected to physical punishment. In the end, over eighty men were on the ground doing push-ups.

Zhong Lao Si cursed a farmer-soldier furiously, punished him by making him stand beneath the white flag, and then gave him a thrashing with the military staff. Only then did he come down, huffing with rage. Seeing Zhou Shao'er and the others didn't bring a smile to his face either; he just said with a long face, "Let's go."

Zhou Shao'er and the others followed Zhong Lao Si to a small tavern inside the fort. This tavern was right across from the general store, an excellent location. It was run by a military household that had fled from Laizhou. The cooking was fairly good.

The proprietor came over, bowing and scraping, enthusiastically calling out "Instructor Zhong." Zhong Lao Si loudly ordered food and wine, and the proprietor scurried off to prepare the meal. Zhong Lao Si was a well-known figure in No. 3 Fort — there wasn't a soul who didn't know him. The land distributed by Wenden Camp was nominally allocated to each household, but in practice it was a long-term tenancy. The fort households could not privately transfer it. Under certain circumstances, Wenden Camp could reclaim the land. One of those circumstances was refusal to serve. So for these refugees who had only just settled down, the instructor was one of their parent-like officials.

Zhong Lao Si didn't wait for the food to arrive. He picked up the wine and drank a bowl first, then launched into his usual complaints. "You all saw it. This is damn well farmer-soldiers. Back in Weihai, I watched the new trackers from Tianjin drill — miles better than this. These farmer-soldiers, after months, still so many can't tell left from right, don't know the flags and signals, forget their matchlords the moment they watch their steps. How many times have they practiced a turn, and the time limit keeps getting extended." He glared. "Still this same sorry state."

Zhou Shao'er asked curiously, "So many men did it wrong — why did you only punish that one soldier?"

Zhong Lao Si, uncharacteristically, sighed and said, "That man is Guandi Temple's older brother. I call him Guan Damiao. If I don't punish him until he trains better, and he dies on the battlefield too, how am I supposed to face Guandi Temple's family later?"

As soon as they heard it was Guandi Temple's older brother, the other men all asked with some surprise and delight.

"It's his brother. As soon as I got back, I went to the quartermaster office and checked the pension records, found their family. Turned out they were right here in No. 3 Fort. I bought some things and went to visit once. At home there's an old mother, an older brother, a younger sister, and a younger brother. Later, when they were selecting farmer-soldiers, his older brother insisted on joining, thinking of earning that five qian of silver each month."

Chen Ying looked at Zhou Shao'er, a bit embarrassed, and said, "Squad Commander, shouldn't we go visit their family too?"

Before Zhou Shao'er could speak, Zhong Lao Si slapped him on the head and cursed, "You dog Zhou Shao'er, now that you're a killer Squad Commander, you look down on Guandi Temple, is that it? How long has it been since we got back? Did you eat any fewer of the flatbreads Guandi Temple stole back then?"

Zhou Shao'er, smiling apologetically, hurriedly agreed, saying they would go buy things after eating.

The former saber-and-stick man Liu Yue asked, "How can that turn be so easy to practice? We never practiced anything that hard when we started out."

Zhong Lao Si's face was full of worry. "When it comes to training farmer-soldiers, individual skills are far fewer than what we had before — just thrusting, cheval-de-frise, shield-and-saber blocking, that sort of thing. But formation is the most critical thing. We didn't practice this turn because our formations were small before. This pike formation relies entirely on formation. I used to dislike this long pike formation, but later I went to the front and took a look. Damn, it really is hard to break — so dense, everywhere you look it's full of spearheads, you don't even know where to charge. If it's set in place, we really couldn't do anything about it. But the moment it moves or halts, it easily falls into chaos, let alone turning. As things stand now, it's still useless for the time being. Yet the training unit's requirements are sky-high — the firearms soldiers have to provide covering fire on the move up to thirty paces, firing as they advance, and only then do the pikes charge." Zhong Lao Si slammed the table and cursed. "Our original firearms unit never covered to thirty paces, firing on the move. How damn high is this requirement — maintaining formation while reloading. How long do these peasants have to train before they can pull it off? If you ask me, just plant those pikemen there and let the firearms soldiers do the shooting. Or else don't shoot while moving — when you get to forty or fifty paces, everyone fires a volley. One volley will send the other side scattering in chaos, then the pikemen go up and a few thrusts finish it. Much simpler. Too bad not one of them listens to me."

Zhou Shao'er snorted softly. Zhong Lao Si complained every single day; wherever he went, no one could stand him. It would be a miracle if anyone listened to him.

Having finished complaining, Zhong Lao Si's mood improved a little. He rolled his eyes and looked at the others. Seeing that Chen Ying seemed to have lost weight, he asked Chen Ying first, "Chen Ying, you haven't come the last few times. What rank are you now, putting on such airs?"

"Killer Squad Commander."

Zhong Lao Si slammed the table again. "You've got the battle merits of a banner captain. What the hell are the merit reviewers doing?"

Zhou Shao'er said quietly, "Can't blame the merit reviewers. He was supposed to be promoted to banner captain, but last time Pu Zhuang selected Chen Ying for some special service unit. He went but didn't pass the training. Li Donghua sent a one-sheet evaluation to Central Army — returned to his original unit, demoted one rank."

Zhong Lao Si quickly leaned in and asked in a low voice, "This special service unit thing — I've been hearing about it for ages. They say all ranks are two grades higher than regular units. What exactly do they do, that even you, Chen Ying, couldn't pass the training?"

Chen Ying said irritably, "The instructor said we're not allowed to talk about it. It's classified. Otherwise, punishment for leaking secrets."

Zhong Lao Si immediately replied, "Just classified. My clearance level is high enough." He pointed at the others. "You lot aren't allowed to go talking about it either." The others promptly agreed.

Chen Ying drank a bowl of wine in dejection before speaking. "Then none of you go spreading this around. That thing — how many people can pass it? At most one double-hour of sleep each day. Every day, endless variety of torments. Everything you do is counted by the thousand. Ten days straight. Every day could exhaust you till you spat blood. And that's nothing — grit your teeth and you get through it. The most hateful part was at mealtime, you had to sit next to a pile of feces, or in a pit filled with pig and sheep intestines and entrails, the stench rising to the heavens. Halfway through eating, they'd toss a length of intestine onto your neck."

Zhong Lao Si grimaced, and the others around him looked utterly disgusted. They all cursed, "Isn't this treating people like livestock?"

Chen Ying gritted his teeth and continued, "Exactly like livestock. They tormented us as hard as they could. If someone was too exhausted to move, an instructor would step on your head and curse you out — not like how we used to just call someone stupid or whatever. They'd curse your ancestors back eighteen generations. Every day, people couldn't take it and were dismissed. Out of nearly two hundred men, only fifty-some remained. I held my breath and endured those ten days." Everyone around listened with rapt attention, waiting for what came next.

"Then it got a bit easier. We could sleep two or three double-hours a day. The daily training started to include some combat — two- or three-man coordination drills. But formation was never practiced. I wasn't afraid of that stuff either; I figured I'd definitely pass. Then suddenly one day, we got up in the morning and force-marched into the mountains. They gave each man a rope and told us to slide down the mountain. That cliff must have been ten zhang high. I — I don't know what happened. The moment I saw that cliff, I got dizzy. My hands and feet went weak. But I really wasn't afraid of dying. The hateful thing is, Li Donghua said on the spot that I was passively resisting training and afraid to die. And it wasn't treated as a regular dismissal — the opinion he wrote to Central Army said 'passive training, lacking courage and fortitude.' Damn it all."

The more Chen Ying spoke, the angrier he got. Zhong Lao Si licked his lips and sighed, "You've got to hand it to Li Donghua, coming up with so many vicious tricks."

Everyone unanimously concluded it was Li Donghua. Chen Ying said bitterly, "And those aren't even all his vicious tricks. I heard from those instructors that after being selected, there's still a ton more — they have to train in wilderness survival, getting dropped alone in deep mountain forests, plus swimming, horseback riding, all kinds of long and short weapons, poisons, wild herbs, building structures, city layouts, maps, disguise and impersonation. Basically everything under the sun. Training and elimination at the same time."

Zhong Lao Si shook his head. "If you mastered all that, would you still be a soldier? You'd be heavenly troops and celestial generals. Forget it, then. Even this farmer-soldier gig is more comfortable than that damn special service unit. They don't want me, and I'm not keen to go suffer in that place either."

Zhou Shao'er had once hoped to be selected. After hearing this, he also felt he definitely couldn't have passed. He asked Chen Ying, "What kind of people ended up making the final selection?"

"By the time I left, only about forty remained. I reckon this round counted as passing. Over twenty were former veterans, three from the Central Army Guard, a few from that group of night scouts from Shanxi, and a few newly arrived refugees — those ones had excellent martial skills. Oh, and that groom who helped catch the Tatar spy in Gu'an — he passed too."

Zhong Lao Si thought for a moment before saying, "That Li Tao?"

The others remembered too. That groom had been publicized for a while by the Training Corps as a model; everyone had an impression of him. They'd heard he had been with Zhu Daichun's training unit ever since.

"That's the name. His scores were right behind mine back then. I don't want to talk about it." Chen Ying was still seething with indignation.

On the official road, the Provincial Governor's grand banner was slowly receding into the distance. Chen Xin stood in place, putting on a show, with the officers of Wenden Camp and Song Wenxian and the others standing behind him. They had to wait until the convoy disappeared from sight before they could turn back, to demonstrate their deep reluctance to see the leader depart.

On this inspection tour, Sun Yuanhua had visited the Wenden combat battalion and one fort. The harsh, martial atmosphere of Chen Xin's camp and the soldiers' morale both greatly satisfied him. Chen Xin had specially prepared an exercise for him, setting up cloth city walls and simulated terrain on the grand parade ground, and drilling a mountain assault and pursuit operation. The Wenden Camp soldiers executed different force allocations across various terrains, deploying different combat formations. The relay riders, flanking scouts, and reconnaissance teams scouted suspicious terrain. The simulation was meticulously carried out. Sun Yuanhua was full of praise for Chen Xin's combat troops, further deepening his image of them as a strong army. Sun Yuanhua did not place much importance on Wenden's naval camp, and since it had only recently been formed, he did not go to inspect it. There was also the cold-weapons workshop in Wenden.

Lu Zhi was the Army Supervisor. He was more interested in military law and reviewed Wenden Camp's military regulations one by one, having the eunuchs copy everything down. Chen Xin naturally concealed the army's drill manual, to prevent the hard-won material from falling into the hands of Kong Youde and the others.

This time, Sun Yuanhua delivered half a year's military pay. Chen Xin finally received his first payroll. He also gave each of his superiors some ceremonial gifts — these were all part of the unwritten rules of military pay, though on the books everything appeared perfectly proper. Counting Wen Tiren, Cao Huachun, Liang Tingdong, and the Ministry of War personnel in the capital, nearly half of his annual military pay went to maintaining connections. Chen Xin's superiors were relatively few; other Ming officers had it much harder, and on top of that they had to embezzle a bit themselves. So not padding the payroll with fake soldiers meant starving to death. It was only natural that the army looked like beggars.

Even so, his impression of Sun Yuanhua was fairly good. Although Sun handled the usual officialdom just like everyone else, he showed an extremely high interest in military organization and weaponry, and his words revealed considerable ambition. In ordinary conversation about other matters, he maintained the air of a superior, but the moment the topic turned to weapons and tactics, he became an ordinary person, often tirelessly asking Chen Xin about details. Before departing, he even gave Chen Xin a handwritten copy of a book he himself had written, The Divine Mechanism of Western Methods.

The convoy was now rounding a hill and would soon vanish from sight. Chen Xin flipped through the copy of The Divine Mechanism of Western Methods in his hands. Song Wenxian said to him, "His Excellency Sun not only excels in the orthodox classics but is also so proficient in these miscellaneous studies that he can write a book himself. No wonder he has won His Majesty's favor. I see that he also thinks quite highly of you, General. With a superior like him, our days at Wenden Camp will be easier from now on."

Chen Xin did not hide anything in front of him and said quietly, "It's just that his temperament is a bit too mild. I wonder if he can keep those roughnecks in line."

Song Wenxian said, "Nothing has ever happened here in Dengzhou. Can those roughnecks overturn the heavens? But if His Excellency Sun wants to learn from you, sir, in training troops, I fear it won't be easy. From what I saw on this trip to Dengzhou, these Dongjiang troops suffer quite a lot of grievances in Dengzhou. The powerful gentry households in Dengzhou are far more numerous than in Wenden. Even our Wenden Camp faces this — you can imagine how it is for those Dongjiang soldiers. On top of that, the local civilian households resist them, making things even harder. That's why many of the Liaodong refugees in Dengzhou have been trickling over to our Wenden Camp, including quite a few soldiers from the personal battalions."

Chen Xin smiled. "Speaking of grievances, regarding that business with those licentiates the other day — what does Mr. Song think about how to vent this anger?"

Song Wenxian cupped his hands. "I'm afraid this anger must be suppressed for the time being. After all, His Excellency Sun met those licentiates that day. If they were killed right after he left, it would be too conspicuous, and it would reflect badly on His Excellency Sun."

Chen Xin nodded. At this critical juncture, it was indeed not appropriate to act in such a way. Song Wenxian continued softly, "However, there is one person we can move against. It would kill the chicken to warn the monkeys, and the suspicion would not fall entirely on us."

Chen Xin laughed heartily. "Mr. Song, you must be referring to that clerk from the Wenden County government office."

"Precisely. For those licentiates to make him do something that would cost him his job, they must have promised him something. Now, naturally, they won't deliver. And so..."

Zhou Shifa had already found out the details. That man had left the county government office that very day. The licentiates had originally promised him two hundred mu of cultivated land and several hundred taels of silver once the deed was done. Now that the licentiates had drawn water with a bamboo basket, the clerk had gained nothing. Every day he went around looking for those licentiates, making a scene, threatening to go to the Provincial Governor's government office to file a lawsuit.

Chen Xin made his decision. "That works well. According to intelligence reports, those licentiates are once again conspiring everywhere, stirring up the local civilian and wealthy households in the surrounding area, preparing to cause an even bigger disturbance. If we don't give them a shock, who knows what they'll stir up next."

He turned and called Zhou Shifa over, saying to him in a low voice, "Eliminate that clerk. Leave some clues implicating those licentiates. Then spread word that those licentiates hired someone to kill him. Make sure a lawsuit is filed at the county government office. Hire the best litigation trickster to help his family fight the case. Have Mr. Song smooth things over with the County Magistrate. The longer the case drags on, the better. Let's see if they still have the energy to come make trouble."