Chapter 102: Deploying for the Next Battle

The Shunyi county yamen had been temporarily requisitioned as the operational command headquarters. In the main hall, many wide tables had been pushed together, upon which sat a massive sand table.

The officers of every camp stared wide-eyed at the terrain on the sand table, finding it almost unbelievable.

Although sand tables had already appeared when Qin destroyed the Six Kingdoms, and the earliest sand table exercises emerged during Emperor Guangwu's reign, those sand tables of old had only depicted rough terrain.

As early as a month ago, when the Yongwei Camp's Night Scouts had set out to gather intelligence, the Night Scouts of the Third and Fourth Sentry Posts had been active in the eastern area of the capital, surveying several zones around the capital and producing this exquisitely detailed sand table.

Cao Huachun, Zhang Shize, and Wang Wannian, though they had never set foot on a real battlefield, had read military classics thoroughly and could see the value of this sand table at a glance.

Holding a thin bamboo stick, Zhu Cilang pointed at several spots on the sand table and said, "The Tartar main force is currently concentrated east of the capital, stretching south to Tianjin Garrison and north to Miyun. Their armies are chiefly stockpiled in three places — Miyun, Pinggu, and Baodi. All three locations hold vast stores of grain and fodder along with great numbers of Ming commoners they have seized. Miyun and Pinggu in particular command the roads leading beyond the passes, which is why the Tartars have stationed heavy troops to guard them!"

Zhu Cilang continued, "The Tartars want to haul the hundreds of thousands of captured civilians and all that grain beyond the passes. This Prince will never let them succeed — those are our Great Ming's people and resources! Therefore, this Prince believes we should first destroy the Tartars at Miyun, and to take Miyun, we must first eliminate the Tartars at Huairou."

In truth, Zhu Cilang very much wanted to strike straight at Pinggu — there were even more supplies and captured civilians there, and if Pinggu fell, it would form a powerful pincer position with Jizhou while also severing the Qing army's road out of the passes.

As for the pass-exit route along the Miyun line, it was mostly mountain paths far too narrow and long, ill-suited for the Qing army to move large numbers of civilians and grain through.

The tactic was sound, but the various relief forces were currently a heap of loose sand, unable to provide him cover. If the Yongwei Camp took Pinggu alone, it would easily suffer a two-flank attack from the Qing forces at Miyun to the north and Baodi to the south — caught on three sides, the odds of total annihilation would be very high.

Therefore, Zhu Cilang could not take that risk. He had to first recover Miyun to the north. Attacking Miyun meant no worry about Tartar reinforcements — Shunyi city blocked any relief from Pinggu, and as for Tartar reinforcements from Baodi, they were simply too far away to arrive in time.

Zhang Shize said, "Your Highness, if we send troops to attack the Tartars at Huairou and Miyun, what about Shunyi city? With the numbers we have, we can't split our forces any further. Besides, with one artillery battalion and one cavalry battalion, we're not suited to defending a city anyway."

Zhu Cilang said, "This Prince has already issued an edict for Li Zhongzhen to lead his troops to arrive at Shunyi before noon tomorrow. Once they get here, they'll handle the city defense."

Wang Wannian said, "Your Highness, Huairou and Miyun are both guarded by heavy Tartar forces. Are our chances of taking them good?"

Zhu Cilang gave a cold snort and said, "Chances? The Tartars are mostly cavalry with extremely strong mobility — you can't even catch them if you chase. Now that they've finally piled up together and stopped running, if we don't strike now, are we just supposed to watch them haul everything beyond the passes?"

"Soldiers fight for the nation, fight for the people. If you're afraid of losing, afraid of dying, then you'd best quit this line of work early! I won't boast about anything else — my Yongwei Camp has more than enough strength to crush these Tartars!"

Hearing him speak thus, though the others harbored doubts, they found it hard to object. Cao Huachun immediately said, "Since Your Highness has already made the decision, let every camp begin its preparations!"

Zhu Cilang added, "Steward Cao, send men to deliver the three thousand Tartar heads along with the victory report to the capital. Our army will camp and rest in the city today — let the soldiers eat and drink well. Tomorrow, once Li Zhongzhen's men arrive and the garrison is swapped, we march immediately, straight for Huairou!"

"Yes!" The officers in the hall clasped their fists in acknowledgment.

That evening, a squad of cooks from the Yongwei Camp carried over dozens of buckets of steaming hot midnight snacks, and the Yongwei Camp's bivouac immediately grew lively. Hot noodles, rice porridge, and flatbreads were available in abundance, along with dishes of dried meat, boiled meat, and salted eggs.

The Yongwei Camp soldiers ate the hearty fare, every one of them thoroughly delighted and feeling quite content.

One soldier downed two big bowls of noodles, then a piece of dried meat and two salted eggs before setting down his bowl and chopsticks in satisfaction, patting his belly and saying, "Damn, that's comfortable! Our camp's cooks are getting better and better!"

Some soldiers didn't care for wheat-based food, stirring their rice porridge with chopsticks and wolfing it down with boiled meat, spittle flying as they ate, calling out between mouthfuls: "A whole month of rest in the capital had me damn near growing mold! Tonight we eat and drink our fill, and tomorrow we kill us some Tartars and earn reward money!"

"Right! We've earned so much money lately that spending it has gotten out of hand. If we don't go kill some Tartars and collect bounties soon, the wife back home is going to start raising hell again!" someone chimed in.

A soldier of seventeen or eighteen grinned and said, "Old brother, don't you worry — when you lay down your life for the nation, this younger brother here will take good care of your sister-in-law for you. Your little brother still hasn't got himself a wife yet!"

"You little bastard! You dare try to take advantage of me? I'll take care of you right now!"

"Brother! Brother! Brother, this little brother was wrong, wrong—"

""

"Hahaha!" The Yongwei Camp soldiers around them burst into laughter at the exchange, everyone chatting and joking merrily.

In the camps of the Shenji Battalion and the Shenshu Battalion not far from the Yongwei Camp, some soldiers leaned against the mud walls of abandoned civilian houses, watching the Yongwei officers and men eat and drink in such high style, envy written all over their faces.

"Damn it! We're all Capital Camps — how come they eat so well while we get this crap?" A son of a noble family tossed his bowl aside, the rice inside scattering across the ground.

In the northern armies of the Great Ming, the standard campaign ration was water-cooked rice — rice boiled in water until cooked through and dried, carried as dry grains, then soaked in hot water to soften before eating.

Find it tasteless? There were hard salt blocks and dried vinegar cakes to dip it in.

A Company Commander from the Shenshu Battalion said, "Being envious won't do you any good. Who can blame us — they're the Crown Prince's men, and they pulled off such a great feat on the very first day of the campaign. We couldn't even get a sip of the soup!"

Zhang Shize happened to pass by while inspecting the camps and overheard their complaints. He immediately snapped in anger, "Useless lot! You can't even march properly, and all you know is to complain. If you've got the ability, go win a fine battle and show your faces!"

Scolded by Zhang Shize, no one dared make a sound. Who would dare offend Young Master Zhang? His own father was a duke and currently the top commander of the Capital Camps, and he himself would one day inherit the Duke of Ying's title. The Capital Camps would sooner or later be under his command — who was so tired of their rank that they'd talk back?

Glancing at the Shenshu Battalion soldiers obediently squatting there eating their meals, Zhang Shize gave a cold snort and walked off with his hands clasped behind his back.

Zhang Shize's heart was troubled as well. Things couldn't go on like this. Coming out on campaign, he had to earn himself some military merit somehow — otherwise, the troops would be hard to lead in the future, and he'd have nothing to show his father.