Chapter 128: Army and Immigration Mobilization

At two p. m., the meeting continued.

Sitting in the front row this time are officials from the army and the immigration system. Zhao Dashan sits in the center of the first row, his back as straight as a javelin. Next to him is Immigration Bureau Director Zhou Wenbin, a refined man in his forties wearing round glasses.

"Commander Zhao, you go first," Chen Feng said bluntly, "What's the current situation of the army?"

Zhao Dashan sprang to his feet, "Report to the President! The army's First Division is fully staffed with 12,000 men, comprising three infantry regiments, one artillery regiment, one engineer battalion, and one signal battalion. The framework of the Second Division has been erected; it currently has 3,000 core personnel, lacking 9,000." (He readjusted his notes.)

"What about equipment?"

"The First Division's equipment is complete: 12,000 rifles, 300 light machine guns, 120 heavy machine guns, thirty‑six 75 mm infantry guns, and twelve 105 mm howitzers. The Second Division… currently has only 3,000 rifles; everything else is lacking."

Chen Feng nodded, "Have you seen the 'Iron Flow Plan'?"

"I've seen it!" Zhao Dashan's eyes lit up, "President, if we can equip according to the plan, the Second Division can be formed within six months!"

The 'Iron Flow Plan' was only put forward by Chen Feng this morning: within three months, fully equip the Second Division. That includes 300 Lewis‑type light machine guns, 1,000 MP18 submachine guns, thirty‑six 75 mm infantry guns, and 1,000 military bicycles. In addition, a motor transport company must be formed—this is Lanfang's army's first mechanization attempt.

"Where are the problems?" Chen Feng asked.

"Three," Zhao Dashan held up three fingers. "First, production. The ordnance factory now produces 200 light machine guns per month; reaching 300 is no problem, but that would eat into the First Division's replacement quota. Second, training. New equipment needs time to master, especially submachine guns and automobiles. Third, officers. Most officers of the Second Division are veterans drawn from the First Division, but all the soldiers are fresh recruits, so integration will take time."

Chen Feng turned to Liu Yongfu, "Chief Engineer Liu, can the ordnance factory's capacity be increased?"

Liu Yongfu was already flipping through his notebook, "The light‑machine‑gun production line can be duplicated; in two months it can be operational, raising monthly output to 300. The submachine‑gun line has just been built, producing 100 per month; to raise that to 300 we need to import precision machine tools, which will take about three months."

"Import," Chen Feng said without hesitation, "Buy from Deguo, buy from the United States, buy from Switzerland. Money is not an issue."

"Then it can be solved," Liu Yongfu said, "But President, I must remind you—once the weapons are made, we still need ammunition. Our ammunition factory is already running at full capacity."

"Build another ammunition factory," Chen Feng said, "Commander Zhao, how will you solve the training issue?"

Zhao Dashan clearly had prepared in advance, "I've already drafted a plan. From each company of the First Division we pull one squad to form a 'Teaching Detachment', which will be assigned to the companies of the Second Division as instructors. The training cycle is compressed to four months: the first month individual skills, the second month squad tactics, the third month battalion‑company coordination, the fourth month live‑fire exercises."

"The intensity is too high; the soldiers won't be able to endure it."

"So the rations must keep pace," Zhao Dashan said, "I've calculated that if we guarantee daily four taels of meat, two eggs, and a kilogram of vegetables, the soldiers can manage. But at that rate, a division's monthly food budget would rise by 5,000 pounds."

"Approved," Chen Feng looked at Zhou Wenbin, "Director Zhou, it's your turn. What's the current situation with immigration?"

Zhou Wenbin stood, his voice much gentler than Zhao Dashan's, "President, according to reports from our observation stations in Xiamen, Guangzhou, and Shantou, since the second half of last year the six southern provinces of Qing have suffered severe disasters. Floods in Guangdong, drought in Fujian, plus heavy taxes... Currently the number of displaced persons is estimated at over 1.2 million."

A low sigh rose from the hall.

1.2 million people. That's about eighty percent of Lanfang's current population.

"How many can we receive?" Chen Feng asked.

"It depends on the conditions," Zhou Wenbin adjusted his glasses, "If we only provide basic rations and tents, we can receive 500,000 this year. But if we must guarantee employment, housing, medical care... the maximum is 300,000."

"I want five hundred thousand," Chen Feng said, "And it's not 'receiving' them, it's 'bringing in' them. These people are not refugees; they are future Lanfang citizens."

Zhou Wenbin gave a wry smile, "President, moving fifty hundred thousand people... alone requires at least one hundred voyages. We currently have only twelve passenger liners available."

"Charter ships," Chen Feng said, "I've already had Minister Wang contact the Hamburg‑America Line of Deguo and the Peninsula‑East Company of Yingguo. They can provide thirty liners, each carrying two thousand passengers. The freight rate... was negotiated down to three pounds per person."

"That still totals 1.5 million pounds..."

"The money will come from the South Ocean Homecoming Fund," Chen Feng said, "Director Zhou, your task is to set up reception stations along the coast. Conduct medical examinations, registration, disinfection, and issue identification tags. The elderly, weak, women and children get priority; the young and able-bodied second. Those with trades—carpenters, blacksmiths, bricklayers—are assigned directly to factories. The literate are placed in schools or clerical positions."

"What about the rest?"

"Cultivation," Chen Feng said as he walked to the map, pointing to several green marks inland of the Persian Gulf, "Here, here, and here—we've already surveyed them; there's groundwater, suitable for farming. Fifty hundred thousand people can cultivate at least one million mu of land. In three years, Lanfang's food supply will be self‑sufficient."

Zhou Wenbin jotted quickly, then asked, "President, a question... among these people there may be members of the revolutionary party."

The hall fell silent instantly.

In 1911, Qing was already trembling in stormy turmoil. Revolutionary activists were active in the south, and rumors of uprisings spread everywhere.

"I know," Chen Feng said, "And I estimate the proportion won't be low. Of the 1.2 million displaced, at least several tens of thousands are influenced by revolutionary ideas."

"Should we screen them?"

"No," Chen Feng shook his head, "As long as they obey Lanfang law and do not engage in subversive activities, we welcome them. Moreover... if they truly have talent, we can employ them."

July 1, 1911, 10 a. m., the sea breeze at Dubai Harbor carried a salty, briny scent mixed with oil.

Chen Feng stood on the newly built 'Guanlan Terrace', an open platform atop the administrative building that overlooks the entire harbor. Behind him, Wang Bo was reporting the telegrams received that morning.

"An encrypted telegram from Berlin," Wang Bo handed over the translation, "Deguo's 'Leopard' warship arrived yesterday at Agadir Port, Morocco. The French ambassador to Berlin has lodged a formal protest."

Chen Feng took the telegram, his gaze sweeping over the German and Chinese text side by side. His expression showed little change, but his finger tapped lightly on the telegram's edge.

"What was meant to come has come," he said.

"And news from London," Wang Bo handed over another, "British Foreign Secretary Edward Gray stated in the House of Commons: The British government firmly supports France's legitimate rights in Morocco. Should the situation deteriorate, we do not rule out taking necessary measures."