Chapter 55: Dian-Mian Border

Jiang Anguo called Lin Yi over.

He thought of something, so he immediately sent someone over.

The first step to becoming a leader that troubles Jiang Anguo is that his mind must keep running; if you liken the troops to a company, then once that company goes on a business trip, people will die.

Lin Yi jogged to Jiang Anguo's horse, wanted to salute, but the officer had said before departure that during marching and combat salutes are prohibited, so they could only stand at attention on the spot.

"Lin Yi, report."

Jiang Anguo nodded, "Lin Yi, when marching, you must pay attention to the terrain on both sides—mountains, rivers, streams—and draw them all for me; this is very important, understand?"

"Understood, Battalion Commander, what about the Transport Company?" Lin Yi asked puzzled.

Jiang Anguo said mysteriously, "You don't need to worry about that; do your own job, and I'll handle the rest."

Lin Yi, in the Transport Company, can be very fair and impartial; the Transport Company is one of the most important parts of the entire regiment.

But now Jiang Anguo also urgently needs someone who can make maps, and Lin Yi is naturally the best choice.

This way not only can Lin Yi take on more important tasks, Jiang Anguo can also smoothly take over the Transport Company.

It's not that Jiang Anguo is reluctant to relinquish authority; he simply forgot that his weapons, ammunition, and Military Rations are all System Exchange items, and with Lin Yi handling logistics, it is indeed a bit inconvenient.

Lin Yi has also been recognized; map-making is one of his specialties. Back in the Officer Training Corps, he even placed in the top three, and the reason he was in the top three is that he took third place.

"Alright, go, make haste; our marching speed will be faster."

"Yes, Battalion Commander."

Jiang Anguo's deployment of the Engineer Company yielded results; the troops' marching speed noticeably increased, and the main force also got ample rest.

After four days and four nights of dusty travel, Jiang Anguo's troops finally set foot on Wandian's land. The rugged and perilous Dian-Mian Highway left a deep imprint on every soldier's face—sun‑blackened skin, furrows carved by sweat, and bone‑deep fatigue. Their straw sandals were already worn through, exposing bright red blisters, yet the old Han Yang-made Rifle remained clenched in their hands, its muzzle reflecting a silent, resolute cold glint under Yunnan's scorching sun.

Yet the border town Wandian greeted them with an almost lazy leisure.

The air held no gunpowder smoke, only the roasted tea aroma and the fresh scent of rice‑noodle broth mingling together. The Caravan's bronze bells "ding‑dang" rang clear and pleasant, intertwining with the transport truck's dull engine roar into an odd symphony.

The tea stall owner by the road, shirtless, fanned the fire with a Large Palm Fan at a leisurely pace; when he saw the squad approach, he just glanced up and returned to concentrating on roasting his tea cakes. A few naked‑buttocked children chased each other at the alley entrance, curiously eyeing the unfamiliar soldiers, their gazes showing no fear, only pure curiosity.

The soldiers kept their eyes straight ahead, maintaining a tidy formation, yet their peripheral vision was inevitably drawn to the sizzling oil‑fried pancakes. That domineering aroma, like an invisible hand, scratched at their already empty stomachs. Discipline was ingrained in their bones; no one strayed from the unit, and no one tried to scramble for food.

This leisure, this peace, is exactly what they are protecting as they cross mountains and are about to step into a foreign battlefield. An elderly lady selling rice noodles even carried a bowl of freshly boiled soup, handed it to a soldier who looked only seventeen or eighteen, and in a thick Yunnan accent said, "Young man, have a sip of hot soup to warm yourself; once you cross this river, you won't taste the flavor of home again."

The young soldier Dou Bing was stunned, his eyes instantly reddening. He gave a standard military salute but did not take the bowl, and hoarsely said, "Thank you, ma'am, we have discipline."

The squad continued forward toward the Wandian Bridge that links the two countries. One end of the bridge leads to a peaceful world, the other end to an unknown, artillery‑riddled hell of death.

Jiang Anguo did not let the troops linger; he only ordered Guard Company soldiers to take some money and make purchases in Wandian.

He now especially likes the Transport Company's small carts, the Unicycle Cart; Jiang Anguo previously gathered carpenters, who hurriedly built eighty Unicycle Carts.

This thing is also impressive; you can load three hundred jin, even four hundred jin isn't impossible, but safety and soldiers' stamina must be considered.

The Transport Company's carts carry only between 150 and 200 jin of cargo.

Even the Dian-Mian Highway is uneven and not very smooth; if a cart's cargo tips over, it's troublesome.

The entire Transport Company of 206 people can rotate two shifts to push carts.

It's fortunate they're small carts; if they were transport vehicles, they'd collide with the vehicles from Lashu, making it even more congested and impassable.

As for the oddity of this Transport Company, the carts carry no ammunition, only provisions, roughly 7,000 kilograms of food.

It's barely enough food for two and a half days for the soldiers, but there's really no need to worry; Jiang Anguo has ample points and is not lacking provisions.

With three days left to reach Lashu, Jiang Anguo thinks the time is sufficient.

Jiang Anguo also issued an order: if they encounter our country's refugees on the road who are not carrying food, secretly give them some Compressed Biscuit; this food will sustain them for a while, after which there will be nothing more.

However, as they are still within the border, it's somewhat better; the number of refugees isn't large.

If the Japanese were to break into Yunnan, that would be hard to say.

Actually it's just that the Japanese moved too fast, causing the following troops to lag; the Japanese Headquarters never imagined they could march from Yunnan into Chongqing.

At that time they only thought about seizing Myanmar's resources; after all, Yunnan is all high mountains, and an invasion would require a huge cost.

In 1942, the Japanese Army's main offensive directions were in Southeast Asia and the Pacific, so all resources were directed toward those two battlefields.

It really was close; the Japanese almost entered China's deep rear, and if they had struck with a single blow, the nation would have perished.

Jiang Anguo secretly gave refugees supplies because human hearts are unpredictable; he cannot manage so many refugees, and he has no camp, otherwise he would directly accommodate them.

Once surrounding refugees see you have food, or strong people notice, they will come to seize your provisions; that's unavoidable.

If he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, Jiang Anguo truly wouldn't believe the importance of the Dian-Mian Highway to China's war of resistance.