Chapter 138: The Logistics Camp

Lion Battalion launched an investigation into the tiger-mouth tattooing, a task likewise assigned to the Discipline Officer.

Although tattooing has always carried the disgraceful connotations of punishment and public humiliation, once the soldiers understood Liu Chengzong's motive, they were all able to accept it.

Of course, this acceptance was built on the premise that Liu the Xiucai tattooed himself alongside them to demonstrate resolve.

Otherwise, no one would be willing to have a character tattooed on their body.

Had this happened in a previous dynasty, even tattooing a whole "Floral Leg Army" would have been no big deal — recruiting troops might even have drawn in a crowd of dragon-and-phoenix-tattooed "flower sisters."

But under the Ming dynasty, the Hongwu Emperor established laws exercising extreme caution regarding tattooing as punishment; only the two crimes of robbery and theft warranted tattooing. Even the families of rebels were sometimes left un-tattooed, because neither the Great Pronouncements nor the Great Ming Code specified what exactly should be tattooed.

The flourishing tattoo culture of the Five Dynasties, Tang, Song, and Yuan was also banned by the Hongwu Emperor. Children entering a Heavenly King temple no longer had any idea what was painted on the statues' calves.

Now, look what happened — Liu Chengzong took the lead in having the two characters "Oppose Ming" inked in black on his left tiger's mouth, and suddenly the few auxiliary soldiers in camp with backgrounds as jailers or painters became hot commodities.

Liu Chengzong stipulated that tattoo needles must not be shared; after piercing one person, a needle had to be boiled in a small pot of water before it could be reused.

In truth, what they were using were not tattoo needles at all, but the sewing needles and wound-suturing needles from the Logistics Post.

Not long after Liu Chengzong had the characters "Oppose Ming" tattooed on his left tiger's mouth, he met Chengzong up at the fort.

The kid had just gotten his own tattoo and came running over clutching his hand. "Brother, you wanted me? It hurts like hell!"

"Yeah. When I was getting tattooed, I saw Post Leader Shi." Liu Chengzong had no time to mock his brother's fear of pain and simply said, "Post Leader Shi said you told the Works Post to make fifty guns. Is that true?"

"It is!" Chengzong nodded as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Heh, I just casually mentioned it to him, and he already told you?"

"It is? It is my ass. The Works Post has exactly eight qualified gun-drillers. Fifty bird guns would keep them busy until this winter."

If they only made things for the Logistics Post, did the other combat posts not deserve firearms?

Liu Chengzong said, "What, are the swords, spears, bows, and crossbows in your Logistics Post not enough? You need fifty guns to play with too?"

Just thinking about it made him want to laugh. In his eyes, the Works Post and Logistics Post had light combat duties. Daily drill, enough to form ranks and use weapons, was sufficient.

If these two posts were together and trouble came, the Works Post would dig trenches and the Logistics Post would form ranks — holding a defensive line for a while was all that was needed. Real fighting was still the job of the five combat posts.

If they ever truly had to throw these two posts into the battlefield, they'd be at the end of their rope, and fighting would be worse than fleeing.

"No, it doesn't need to be that complicated. I was just bringing the drawings to deliver to the Works Post. Perfect timing, brother — take a look first."

As he spoke, Chengzong pulled a sheet of paper from his bosom and slapped the rough sketch onto the table. "It's not for combat or auxiliary troops. I'm preparing it for the wounded."

The drawing was extremely crude, but understandable at a glance — a very ordinary matchlock pistol.

Essentially, it was just taking the stock of an old firelock and modifying it into a curved grip. A hole was bored through the middle of the curved grip, into which a Z-shaped iron rod was inserted. The upper part was the matchlock serpentine lever, and the lower part formed the trigger, with a curved piece of iron serving as the spring.

So simple it was crude. Once the barrel was forged, drilling the bore smooth was also easy. Eight gun-drillers could produce thirty of them in a month.

Liu Chengzong stared at it, utterly baffled. "What are you making this thing for?"

"Here's my thinking. Brother, look — the Logistics Post right now has the Recruitment Squad, the Mule-and-Horse Squad, the Cart-and-Pack Squad, the Scout Cavalry Squad, and the Medical Squad."

Liu Chengzong had never managed logistics affairs. Whenever they lacked anything, he always had people go to Chengzong.

If it was in camp, they went to Chengzong. If it wasn't in camp, they still went to Chengzong. Within the bounds of Yan'an Prefecture, he always found a way to get things done, so there was no need to worry.

He did know, however, that neither the Logistics Post nor the Works Post was organized according to the combat post structure. Both were also divided into five squads, but he didn't know what each squad specifically did.

Chengzong rattled off the details like he was counting his family treasures. "The Mule-and-Horse Squad manages the livestock, the Cart-and-Pack Squad handles transport, the Scout Cavalry Squad screens the perimeter, and the Medical Squad treats the sick and wounded. As for the Recruitment Squad — heh!"

He grinned broadly. "That was a stroke of genius by the Logistics Post in Fushi County. They hire people from among the common folk, recruiting civilian laborers to help."

This, Liu Chengzong could understand.

Recruiting civilian laborers was Chengzong's specialty. Just during those three days of fighting Li Bei at Willow Country Town, before they joined forces with Shang Tianhou, the Logistics Post had no men at all. It was entirely up to Chengzong to bring in over a thousand people from the nearby villages to help.

Medicinal supplies, medical workers, a mountain of tasks — and in the end, Chengzong actually handled it all quite well.

Presumably, this Recruitment Squad was the support team Chengzong built for himself after that battle.

"My courage, brother, you know how it is. I won't pretend to be some hero. That day after you finished at Willow Country Town and sent Shang Tianhou to find me to handle the wounded, I was on edge the whole night, too scared to sleep, terrified government troops or routed soldiers would find their way to me."

Chengzong laid his hand over the drawing on the table. "That's when I thought — so many wounded, none of them could even lift a weapon. If anyone attacked, they'd just die. Later, I saw your gun and had Post Leader Shi make one for me too."

He clicked his tongue appreciatively. "At about ten paces, you can pick it up and shoot accurately. It's so much easier to learn than a bow, and it takes no strength. As long as a wounded man still has one hand, he can fire it. No one expects a second shot."

Liu Chengzong suddenly understood.

So this was what Chengzong wanted the pistols for. He didn't even need to hear the rest. Liu Chengzong picked up the thread. "A big battle breaks out up front, and in the rear, the guns are already loaded with powder and shot, just waiting for the wounded to be sent back. Anyone who still has a hand gets one?"

Chengzong clapped. "Exactly!"

For a long time, the Logistics Post had been a dispensable entity. From the very beginning, when it was just the Ma-Lü family, to now, with its ranks fully filled, its duties remained somewhat unclear.

But knowing nothing was no obstacle — one could learn, deepening understanding by filling gaps as they appeared.

During the battle to set up cannon on the mountain at Yan River Bend, Liu Chengzong had single-handedly shouldered all the work of the Logistics Post.

He transported grain to the front lines, moved carts, horses, gunpowder, and supplies, organized manpower to gather medicines and medical workers, and cleared out a place to house and treat the wounded.

Though Chengzong was unprofessional in doing all this, he got it done.

He did it poorly.

And he took note of every shortcoming.

Liu Chengzong seemed to have opened a floodgate, eagerly pouring out his experiences to his second brother. "You can't set up just one wounded camp. You need at least four. Set up three close to the front line, and one further away in a safer location."

He raised three fingers. "The civilian stretcher-bearers need someone to lead them, someone who can triage by severity. Lightly wounded go to the light-wound area, heavily wounded go to the heavy-wound area. And then there's one close to the front line for those with their bellies cut open and guts spilling out."

"Once they're bandaged, they get sent further from the battlefield, to a more concealed wounded camp to rest."

Chengzong was not happy as he recounted these things.

Because every lesson had been bought with blood.

Just that last time, when Chengzong set up a wounded camp at Panlong Creek Mouth east of the prefectural city to treat Shang Tianhou's wounded.

He was completely in the dark — no zones assigned, no triage by severity. In one night, seventeen lives were lost while waiting.

Because mulberry-bark thread and golden-sore salve ran out, seven men died without timely bleeding control, medication, or wound suturing.

That was why he now knew to collect fine mulberry-bark fibers in peacetime.

He also knew that when battle came, the wounded camp had to be set up before the fighting started. Cauldrons were buried to boil hot water and cook wheat-water. The hot water washed gauze, knives, and other instruments. The wheat-water was cooled and filtered clean, kept for the medical workers to use.

When a belly was slashed open and the intestines spilled out and couldn't be put back, a medical worker would take a mouthful of cold wheat infusion and spray it onto the intestines, which would make them wriggle back in on their own.

In that battle they had no cold malt drink; they could only use bedding to lift the wounded soldiers and rock them. One rocked back, three couldn't be rocked back and were gone.

And the one whose intestines were rocked back didn't live many more days either — he developed a fever and burned to death. The medic said his intestines had been exposed, and with so many dead and wounded around, he'd been tainted by miasma, and they had no prescription to clear heat and detoxify.

So they had to put people whose intestines had come out in a separate area for treatment, and keep others away.

Actually, that night Chengyun cried for a very long time.

He didn't know them — those men hit by bullets and arrows, bellies ripped open, hands and feet severed, blood pooling everywhere.

He didn't know a single one. There were even thirty-one men who, by the time they reached him, were already cold and stiff.

Later, some were saved, some couldn't be saved, and some toughed it out and lived without much treatment at all.

Truly at his wits' end.

Chengyun treasured these experiences deeply, because he understood nothing — every scrap of knowledge in his head had been bought with someone else's life.

"Right, Brother, there's one more thing I have to tell you — the wounded."

Liu Chengyun didn't know how to say it. He pulled over a stool and sat, then felt he couldn't get the words out sitting down, so he stood back up and said, "I've noticed none of you have — none of you have made any plans for the wounded."

Liu Chengzong was still absorbed in what Chengyun had said about treating the wounded. Hearing this suddenly, he furrowed his brow.

He didn't understand. Looking utterly baffled, he asked, "Haven't all the wounded recovered?"

"Not your border troops. I'm talking about Liu Jiusi, Liu Guoneng, Li Wanqing, Wang Ziyong, Luo Rucai — their wounded."

Lion Camp had no wounded. From the start they'd had plenty of armor, and later, always on the move, they'd had no conditions for treatment. The injured either got better or died; no one was left crippled.

The most recent wounded were just Zhong Hu and those few, and they'd long since recovered.

How others handled their wounded, Liu Chengzong didn't know, but he knew about Heaven-Climbing Monkey's wounded, so he said, "Plans were made. When we merged camps, Heaven-Climbing Monkey's battle-disabled men weren't counted among the auxiliaries — they were all placed in the manor village to farm."

"But there was a frost."

Chengyun said, "Big Brother's side also gave land to the disabled soldiers, but this year's harvest can't be good. I want to find them a different livelihood. Since we're heading to Shanxi anyway, let me arrange things for them before we leave."

This was a blind spot Liu Chengzong had overlooked.

Liu Chengzong leaned back slightly, an unconscious smile spreading across his face. "How do you want to arrange it? Tell me."

His force was becoming more and more proper.

Settling the wounded, in fact, could greatly inspire the other soldiers' fighting spirit.

But purposefully settling the wounded and providing them long-term security — among all the leaders in northern Shaanxi, this was probably the only instance.

Others had neither the inclination nor the capability.

"I heard from Battalion Commander Ren that you're having Liu Cuancuan form a merchant company?"

Chengyun's face was dead serious, but the words that came out made Liu Chengzong crack up. "Why are you calling him Liu Cuancuan too? Yes, that's happening."

"Isn't he just a cuancuan? Here's what I'm thinking. There are quite a few disabled soldiers under each chief. They're actually the most loyal, because in times like these, a man missing an arm or a leg can't survive without us."

Chengyun didn't dwell on what to call Liu Guoneng and went straight into his plan. "I plan to summon all the disabled soldiers before we set out, assess their injuries, and observe their temperaments. Those with missing hands or fingers — as long as they still have one hand that can hold a weapon — assign them to the merchant company. Cuancuan's lame himself anyway; he certainly won't mind."

"Those with bad legs, place them in the manor village. Don't make them farm — have them apprentice to the craftsmen. The iron kilns will be empty once Lion Camp pulls out anyway, and the drilling lathes can't be moved. Let them hammer out armor plates and drill gun barrels... We will come back, right?"

Liu Chengzong nodded. "Of course we'll come back. It's not like we can take Taiyuan."

"Then that's settled. By the time we return, they'll have made a huge pile of gun barrels and armor plates. Heh heh."

Chengyun grinned shrewdly. "I think we ought to take good care of the wounded. Even if they can't fight, they have other uses. And some who can still use weapons but have disabilities — like eyes, ears, fingers — I plan to organize into the supply battalion and bring them along."

"Bring them to haul things?"

"No. Disabled men like that are the most numerous; we wouldn't count on them for hauling. Once we enter Shanxi — Brother, aren't you going to attack the manor villages? When the time comes, we'll surely distribute grain to the commoners. Find some villages on treacherous terrain, with high vantage points overlooking the distance, backed by mountains and bordering valleys, and settle them in there."

He counted on his fingers. "Resist taxes, guard against bandits, evade government troops. Going forward, they can serve as supply stations for gathering provisions; falling back, they can be strongholds for settling the wounded. Link several villages together into a network, eliminate those dead set on informing for the officials, and distribute land and fields to the rest. What was Huang Chao's thing called? Heaven's Repay—"

"Heaven's Repayment and Equalization."

"Right, Heaven's Repayment and Equalization. We'll equalize on Heaven's behalf for the common people too. Not just in Shanxi — on the march east, Yanchang, Yanchuan, equalize them all."

Liu Chengzong nodded in praise. "Not bad. Yes, let's do it your way!"

Though Chengyun's vision was a bit idealized, the direction was correct.

Only, what northern Shaanxi lacked wasn't land — it was water. Land could be distributed if there was a shortage; water shortage had no solution.

So-called equalization could only extend to villages along the banks of the Yan River and its tributaries. Everywhere else, refugees roamed chaotically. If they could farm, they farmed; if they couldn't, they fled elsewhere.

Just like last year, when a single snowfall made everyone rejoice, thinking a bumper harvest was coming.

This year, with the ground still frozen nearly into the third month, it made everyone unhappy, because the harvest would be reduced.

All at once, Apricot River Manor Village, which could comfortably support four thousand people, could now only support three thousand. If drought and locusts struck come summer, it might not even support two thousand.

At a time like this, distributing land wouldn't have that great an effect.

It was just that Liu Chengzong didn't know the situation in Shanxi. If there was no drought, Chengyun's land distribution would have a great effect; if there was drought, Chengyun's idea of planting personnel to lead tax resistance would also have a great effect.

Because when drought came, people fled. Those who remained would necessarily be people who, amid the drought, could still eke out a half-dead existence from what the fields produced.

For these people, whether they could avoid paying that bit of tax was a direct matter of life and death.

Having won Liu Chengzong's approval, Chengyun straightened his back, overjoyed. "Then I'll go make the arrangements. Once everything's set, we can leave."

"Go ahead. Yang Yao is on his way back too."

As he spoke, Liu Chengzong clapped his hands. "Don't forget to call Liu Cuancuan. Tattoo a character on the web of his hand too. When doing business, wrap something around it... That man has the weakest resolve. Traveling merchants roam everywhere — I don't want him picking up another iron tablet and coming back to find me later."

Source: The Stubborn Bandits