Chapter 6: Jiang Anguo Arrives at the Shelter

Take one step and see one step; the Japanese didn't see anything, so how could Jiang Anguo be thinking about retreat?

At worst it's just a single life, a one‑for‑one exchange—who else but me?

Does Jiang Anguo really that great?

He himself doesn't know; he just arrived in 1942, and after a night of thought he feels he must do something, at least kill more Japanese.

"Young Master, what are you buying all these things for!" Xiao Si had already bought everything early.

Jiang Anguo's skinny horse became a Carriage, and there is a cart in the yard; a slight modification will do.

A layer of cloth covers the cart, hiding what's underneath.

"Ask whatever you want, remember, in front of outsiders you must call me Major Company Commander, understand?" Jiang Anguo said.

"Yes, Young Master."

"Mm." Jiang Anguo turned back and glared.

"Yes, Major Company Commander."

Jiang Anguo was pleased, but Xiao Si's German Military Uniform looked out of place; his small frame made the uniform too big, luckily a belt could tighten it, otherwise his pants would fall down.

Xiao Si was overjoyed; his clothes were clearly new, and in these times getting new clothes is truly hard, and he didn't know where Young Master got them.

Starting from Tengchong, they took the winding Small Path, which can't compare to modern cement roads; out of a twenty‑kilometer stretch they had walked nearly three kilometers, and it was almost noon.

Chanda.

It seemed just like in the past‑life TV drama; could it really be that TV characters are appearing?

Jiang Anguo stood before Chanda, which was just a small town, but one could describe it as thick with smoke and stench; soldiers were everywhere, in disheveled clothes, and most of them had no weapons—those who did only had a few old rifles.

Perhaps they served only as a deterrent, carrying guns that might even be empty of bullets.

The wounded soldiers in the Shelter looked up at Jiang Anguo and Xiao Si; it had been a long time since anyone dressed so properly had appeared here.

Everyone only glanced and then lowered their heads.

Perhaps most people only had their eyes on the horse behind, that skinny, weak horse.

Seeing Xiao Si and Jiang Anguo with pistols at their waists, they dared not make any extra moves; if anyone caused trouble here, the Shelter's station chief and his subordinates were armed.

Seeing an officer, everyone also dared not cause trouble.

Jiang Anguo looked at it all and asked softly, "Xiao Si, what do you think they lack?"

"Young Master, weapons." Xiao Si forgot what Jiang Weiguo said, that one should address by title at work.

"No, they lack souls." These people came from all corners, ending up in this town called Chanda, and even Tengchong wasn't allowed in, because they feared trouble.

If any unit was short of men, they'd pull a batch from the Shelter and leave; the remaining soldiers all wore gaunt, emaciated faces.

The "souls" Jiang Anguo spoke of meant these people had no hope of living in their eyes, not even hope to survive, let alone fight the Japanese.

"Hey, you pretty boy, your horse is fine; why not kill it and eat the meat."

At the corner, a limping person suddenly appeared, clutching something inside his clothes; Jiang Anguo could see it was a bundle of vermicelli.

"That's how you speak." Xiao Si shouted angrily.

Jiang Anguo was unfazed, smirked, and said, "You stole someone's thing and just walked away?"

The baffling remark confused Xiao Si, but the person in front, Meng Fanle, understood, fell silent, turned and left; his shoulder insignia showed a Major rank, and given his youth, he was certainly not someone to offend.

Meng Fanle was frivolous, but that didn't mean he didn't understand human affairs.

Watching Meng Fanle walk toward the distance, Jiang Anguo did not follow.

"Xiao Si, you go ahead and see, I'll first go find the Shelter's station chief."

"Alright, Young Master." Xiao Si pulled the Carriage and followed from afar.

The whole of Chanda had not only wounded soldiers but many injured ones; Jiang Anguo even heard cries of pain—without medicine and timely treatment, these injured might not survive this spring.

The repeated cries of pain made Jiang Anguo somewhat uneasy.

If it weren't for the cooler climate here, more would die; the War of Resistance Against Japan would claim many lives, Jiang Anguo knew, and they also knew.

But they didn't know the anti‑Japanese war would soon be victorious, just three years away—only three years.

Soon Jiang Anguo met the Shelter's station chief and showed him his officer's badge.

"Good day, officer." the station chief immediately said with a smiling face.

The station chief, upon seeing the th Division—a direct line of the main line—full of artillery, cannons, and armored vehicles, clearly was not someone he could offend.

Thus he was very courteous; he was also a person who changes with the wind.

Jiang Anguo nodded, "Station chief, the front‑line situation is unclear; this time I am representing the th Division to form a Supplement Battalion, and I don't know how many soldiers this Shelter has."

"Officer, my Shelter has about eight hundred soldiers." The station chief only knew this number; these days he had been running his small business, selling medicines.

"Alright, I take all these soldiers." Jiang Anguo said.

The station chief was startled and said, "Officer, I don't know whether you have a higher‑up's order."

Jiang Anguo immediately pulled a letter from his pocket; indeed he had one—Dai Anlan had visited him before leaving and gave him this letter, authorizing him to form a Supplement Battalion on the spot.

The Shelter station chief glanced, confirmed it was correct, and immediately bowed and nodded.

"Officer, then I'll gather everyone." the station chief said.

The th Division's reputation still stands, a bloody battle at Kunlun Pass.

Jiang Anguo waved his hand, "No need, your mission is complete; I'll handle the rest myself."

Before leaving, Jiang Anguo gave the station chief a bundle of silver dollars, twenty in total, which he had had Xiao Si pack that morning.

Eight hundred men, that's my own force—great. Forget being a Major Company Commander, I want to be the squad leader.

Eight hundred men is almost exactly one battalion; I can truly be a real battalion commander.

For a Nationalist Army division, the theoretical strength is about nine to eleven thousand, but the actual numbers range from three to four thousand, or five to six thousand.

The situation of soldiers living on empty rations was also severe, leading to multiple reorganizations; yet before the sixty divisions were fully prepared, the Japanese broke in.

The entire Shelter's personnel could anyway form a two‑battalion force, and Jiang Anguo was still very satisfied.

Chanda wasn't very big, Jiang Anguo easily found Xiao Si, Xiao Si was also very obedient, standing far away, otherwise the things inside this Carriage would probably be completely looted.