Chapter 156: Arab Division

"The commander of the Fifth Division is named Amir, originally the military commander of the Hashim family. The commander of the Sixth Division is named Khalid, from a coastal tribe of Oman. Both are very capable, and the troops' training level is also good," Li Te paused, "but after all they are Arabs; asking them to cross the ocean to fight for the homeland of a Chinese nation, I'm not sure what they think.

Chen Feng walked to the window—actually there was no window, the three underground levels had only a ventilation shaft. He looked at Lanfang's national flag on the wall: a golden dragon held its head high against a red background.

"Three years ago, when we began forming the Arab troops, Liu Yongfu asked the same question." he said slowly, "I said, trust is earned in battle. You give a man a gun, teach him how to use it, pay his salary, respect his faith, train with him, bleed with him—over time, he becomes your brother."

He turned around: "Now the Fifth and Sixth Divisions have been formed for a year and a half, have taken part in three border skirmishes, and performed well. Last year, in Oman Bay, we eradicated pirates; Khalid's unit lost seventeen men, and no one retreated. If that still doesn't prove loyalty, I don't know what would."

"But Borneo is different…"

"Precisely because it's different, it becomes the best touchstone." Chen Feng walked back to the nautical chart, "Send them to a completely unfamiliar place to fight for a goal that seems unrelated to them. If they can still complete the mission, we will never have to doubt their loyalty again."

Li Te fell silent. He did not fail to understand the principle; as a military commander, he had to consider all risks.

"There's another matter." He changed the subject, "Minister Wang, when will Borneo's 'Fire Star' ignite?"

Chen Feng glanced at the calendar on the wall—today is January 17.

"February 1." he said, "Wang Wenwu has already arranged it. That day, Kundian, Shankouyang, and Sanfa—the three main Chinese settlements—will hold simultaneous rallies, demanding that the Dutch authorities grant autonomy. Dutch military police will certainly suppress them; as soon as bloodshed occurs, our fleet will set sail immediately."

"What about the pretext?"

"Protection of overseas compatriots." Chen Feng said calmly, "According to international law, a nation has the right to dispatch warships to protect its overseas nationals. If the Dutch suppress the Chinese gathering, we will send a fleet to 'protect our compatriots'—legitimate and proper."

Li Te nodded, "Then the fleet will depart on February 2, the voyage taking about eighteen days, arriving in Borneo waters around February 20. The transport fleet, three days later, will set out on February 5."

"No." Chen Feng shook his head, "The transport fleet departs on February 4."

"But…"

"Do as I say." Chen Feng's tone was firm, "I want the Dutch to see our warships first; when they are terrified, the landing troops will follow immediately. The psychological strike must link with the physical strike, leaving them no chance to breathe."

"Understood."

Chen Feng looked at the chart again and suddenly asked, "How is the submarine deployment?"

"They're in place." Li Te pointed to the locations of the Strait of Malacca and the Sunda Strait, "Twenty‑four U‑IX type submarines have been deployed, divided into four wolf packs. Their mission is not to attack merchant ships but to monitor. If a third‑party power—such as Yingguo or Japan—tries to intervene, the submarines will report immediately and, if necessary… issue a warning."

"Can we fire if necessary?"

Li Te hesitated, "Under international law, a submarine must give warning before attacking surface vessels…"

"We are not international." Chen Feng cut him off, "We are going home. Anyone who blocks our return home is an enemy. To an enemy, no warning is needed."

He said it calmly, but the murderous aura made Li Te's heart tighten.

"Yes." He stood at attention, "We can fire if necessary."

"Good." Chen Feng patted his shoulder, "Li Te, in this operation the navy is the vanguard. If we fight well, the Dutch may surrender outright; if we fight poorly, we'll have to conduct a hard landing assault, and many will die. The burden on your shoulders is heavy."

"President, rest assured." Li Te straightened his back, "The navy has prepared for three years for this day. Four Bismarck Class ships are four keys to open the door back home."

"I trust you." Chen Feng walked toward the door, then stopped, "By the way, Wang Bo will depart with the transport fleet."

Li Te was startled, "Wang Bo? He's… almost seventy this year, right? Conditions in Borneo are harsh, and there's still war…"

"He asked for it himself." Chen Feng's voice lowered, "He said, forty‑plus years ago, his father was killed by Dutch bullets. He wants to go back, light incense at his father's grave, and tell him: the son has returned, bringing the fleet and the army back."

The command center fell into a brief silence.

A low hum came from the ventilation shaft.

"Understood." Li Te finally said, "I will arrange the best cabin and assign people to protect him."

"No." Chen Feng shook his head, "No special treatment. What Wang Bo wants is not protection but witness. Let him be with the soldiers, let him see how the fleet fires its guns, how the troops land. This is the moment he's waited forty years for."

Leaving the naval command center, Chen Feng went straight to the army headquarters.

The headquarters was in a military camp on the western side of the city, a three‑story concrete building. The guard at the gate, upon seeing the convoy, immediately stood at attention and saluted.

Chen Feng did not go to the office, but headed straight to the training ground.

At two p. m., the sun was perfect. On the training field, soldiers were conducting tactical drills. Not traditional infantry formations, but company‑level coordinated operations—machine‑gun squads, mortar squads, and assault squads working together, advancing through a simulated obstacle area.

Liu Yongfu and Zhao Dashan were watching from the ceremony platform.

"President." The two, upon seeing Chen Feng, quickly saluted.

"Continue." Chen Feng waved his hand, picked up a binocular and looked toward the training field.

An infantry squad was assaulting a simulated machine‑gun bunker. The machine‑gun squad provided frontal suppression, the assault squad maneuvered around the side, and the mortar squad gave rear support. The actions were clean and crisp, with seamless coordination.

"Which division is this?" Chen Feng asked.

"First Division, 3rd Regiment, 2nd Battalion," Zhao Dashan replied, pride in his voice, "the whole training unit, last year's assessment placed us first in the entire army."

Chen Feng nodded, set down the binoculars, "What about the Arab Division? Training today?"

"The Fifth Division is conducting live‑fire shooting at the range, the Sixth Division is doing field exercises outside the city," Liu Yongfu said, "President, would you like to go see?"

"To the range."

The army firing range was ten kilometers outside the city, a desert wasteland enclosed by a fence. As the vehicles entered, continuous gunfire could be heard.

The Fifth Division was conducting a squad‑level machine‑gun shooting test. Not at a stationary target, but at a moving one—the target raced along a track, and shooters had to identify, aim, and fire within three seconds.

Chen Feng and the others stood on the observation tower, watching through high‑power binoculars.

A machine‑gun squad was firing. The primary shooter was an Arab man in his thirties, a scar across his face, his gaze focused. The assistant shooter stood beside him, handling loading and observation. When the moving target appeared, the machine gun cracked—short burst, three rounds, all hitting the bullseye.

"Excellent shooting." Chen Feng praised.