Munitions Empire

An off-road vehicle drove on the muddy road, its wheels sinking into a water-filled pothole and splattering mud. The body of the car, already covered in mud, got even dirtier, its wheels caked in yellow mud to the point that the anti-slip tread was almost indiscernible. A torrential downpour washed over the windshield, and despite the wipers scraping back and forth, the driver's view remained poor, unable to see the road ahead clearly. "Commander! The road ahead is blocked." The already slow-moving vehicle, jostling along, stopped in the middle of the road, blocked by a landslide. Huge boulders lay on the road, some having rolled far down the slope, while further away, obscured by mist and rain, nothing was clear. Several people in military raincoats moved back and forth on the road, continually shuttling to move small stones to the side of the highway. Because of the rain and the lack of tools, their progress was slow; they hadn't cleared even a square meter of the mud and stones after quite some time. "We can't get through here!" An old man responsible for clearing the road approached the vehicle and shouted to the officer inside. The officer rolled down the window and shouted back at the old man, "Why are only a few of you clearing the road? If the road is blocked, the following heavy equipment can't get through!" Raindrops floated into the car through the window, dripping onto the leather seats with dull thumps. Dark clouds pressed down from the sky, leaving hardly any light visible. "The young folk are all at the river embankment! Those a bit older have been called to patrol and to watch over the crops and houses... Only us few old timers are left to do what we can," the old man explained. He spoke, grinning to reveal a mouthful of yellowed teeth missing the front ones, as if attempting to smile, but unable to muster a proper one in the end. "Old sir! The embankment isn't far from here, right?" The officer leaned out, letting the rain pelt his wide-brimmed hat. "Not far at all, not far at all! Just follow the field ridges, about 1 kilometer and you'll be there," the old man pointed in a direction, a direction without a road. The officer swung the car door open, jumped out, and pulled his raincoat over himself. His bodyguard also got out of the car, donning his raincoat as well. "Xiao Zhao and I will go straight there! You and the driver stay behind to help! When the following troops arrive, have them clear the road first! When you're done, find me on the embankment!" "Yes, Commander!" The driver and another guard got out of the car, stood at attention, saluted, and then removed the shovel and pickaxe fastened to the front engine cover of the vehicle. Such tools are standard on military vehicles, and the two men, each wielding a "long-handled weapon," began to work in front of the vehicle. With the help of the two, the work progressed much more quickly. Meanwhile, the officer who had arrived by car, along with his bodyguard, stepped off the roadbed. Their tall leather boots sank into the wet and slippery mud, moving unevenly, with no pattern to their steps. There really was no path here; the two's descent was as ungainly as it could get. Soon, their boots were soaked, with socks clinging to their feet as sticky as chewing gum. The soles were caked with mud, and while the uppers had been muddy too, they were quickly washed shiny clean by the rain. A distance of one kilometer took the two nearly 30 minutes to walk. They hadn't reached the embankment yet when they saw a cluster of military tents collapsed in disarray. Packaging from military food rations lay scattered everywhere, some floating in puddles, others half-buried in the mire and sand. Since becoming a brigade commander, the officer had never seen such a dirty and disorganized military camp, so he frowned, pulled open the flap of a tent, and stuck his head inside. Dozens of soldiers, muddy all over, huddled together like corpses, densely packed. The tent was full of stench as if something had gone rotten. Just as he was about to scold them, the brigade commander closed his mouth again. He let the flap fall back into place, not wishing to disturb the sleeping soldiers. He sighed and pointed ahead, "Let's go! Let's take a look at the embankment!" The sky seemed to have sprung a leak, rain constantly pouring down. Sometimes the droplets were so light they took time to wet clothes; other times, the downpour was like water being sloshed from a bucket. Rain beat upon the officer's wide-brimmed hat, running off the brim to form a curtain of water. The brigade commander trudged along the rugged path, every step an effort. It could be said there wasn't even a path here, just a mushy track of footprints the people had worn into the mud. Unsure what had gotten into his shoe, the brigade commander felt a pebble stabbing his foot. But he couldn't stop; he saw more and more people around him. "Put some muscle into it! We need a hundred sandbags more, quick!" On the embankment, a man wearing only shorts, with his upper body bare and a drenched military cap, was loudly encouraging the soldiers before him. A group of nearly naked soldiers were swinging shovels, shoveling mud into sandbags held open by their comrades. Their muscles twisted in the rain, and many parts had already burst open with flesh. The only indication that these people were soldiers was because they were all wearing military caps, and some still had camouflage pants on their lower bodies. Human skin is delicate, and prolonged immersion in water makes it even more vulnerable. Those arms bearing wounds still showed not the slightest intention of resting at this time. "As long as there are people, the dyke stands! Even if people perish, the dam shall not! Behind us is our homeland! Behind us are our parents and fellow villagers! Whoever dares to go soft at this time, I'll be the first to look down on him!" While shouldering a sandbag on his shoulder, a muscular man shouted loudly. His voice didn't carry far in the rain, but he kept on encouraging his soldiers, "I'm your platoon leader! I'm carrying two bags, who of you would be content to carry just one?" The surrounding soldiers did not speak, or perhaps they no longer had the strength to speak. They bowed their heads to shoulder the sandbags, and then climbed step by step up the dike, stacking the sandbags in their designated places. A few civilians wearing raincoats checked the sandbags over and over, filling the gaps between them with the sand from behind. "Commander!" Recognizing the officer in the raincoat, the camp commander with his upper body bare stood at attention and saluted. The commander returned a military salute and then looked at the soldiers soaking in the rain, "You lot of dogs, you've all thrown away your raincoats again?" "It's inconvenient to work in them. Besides, with all the moving around, we quickly get wet inside too; they're of no use," the camp commander said with an embarrassed smile. "The civilians need them, so we gave them to the locals." "I'll have a bone to pick with you later! Look at your soldiers! What a state they're in!" The commander climbed up to the dike, looking down at the soldiers who were still tirelessly working: "This is no way to do things, let them rest in shifts." "Commander… They've only been up here for four hours," the camp commander wiped the rain from his face and explained awkwardly. "What about the ones in the tents?" The commander's eyes widened in disbelief. "Yes, they were up all of last night. I just sent them to rest, and now it's 2nd Company doing the work," the camp commander said, as rainwater flowed down the soaked brim of his hat and dripped from his chin. "And 3rd Company?" The commander's voice choked up; he felt for these soldiers and their wretched state. To be honest, facing enemy gunfire back in his day, he had never been this miserable. "They're over there, taking turns with 3rd Company of the 2nd Battalion. We've been here for three days now, commander... when will the reinforcements arrive?" The camp commander hesitated for a few seconds before he uttered a statement he was embarrassed to make. After he spoke, he quickly explained, "Commander, as you know, if we're on the defensive, calling for support means I'm a coward, but my soldiers haven't closed their eyes in two days and nights, commander." Extending his hand, he glanced at his wristwatch, "Three hours! The 2nd Regiment will be here! Then you have 10 hours to rest!" "Keep the dyke secure! Not one step backward! For His Majesty!" The visiting commander shook off the water on his wristwatch and ordered firmly. "Yes, sir! Mission will be accomplished! Sir! Long live His Majesty the King!" The camp commander stood at attention and saluted, as if suddenly reinvigorated, and shouted toward the distance, "Reinforcements will arrive soon! For His Majesty the King! Fight to the death!" "You go rest. I'll take command!" The commander reached out to stop the camp commander who was about to leave. "But that's not right, I..." the surprised camp commander quickly waved his hands in protest. "This is an order!" Raising his arm, he gave a military salute to the other man, the commander's tone stern, "Get down and rest! When you're needed, if there's a problem I'll use you as a sandbag on the dam!" "Yes, sir!" With no choice, the camp commander could only salute with teary eyes, then turned and looked back three times as he descended from the dyke. The rain seemed to have lessened quite a bit; at least the visibility had improved. The commander who had taken over the commands soon noticed a little girl, drenched, walking back and forth atop the dike. She carried a basket on her back, handing water bottles to soldiers who had just put down their sandbags. Her small frame was disproportionate to the large basket she carried, and because she had to stop frequently, her pace was slow. When she reached the commander, she paused in surprise, because the familiar "big brother" had been replaced. She handed a water bottle, half-drunk by someone, to the commander. The sight appeared rather comical: behind her in the basket, she carried water bottles filled with boiling water, around her neck hung empty water bottles, and in her hand was the half-drunk one... The commander took the water bottle, without the slightest look of distaste, drank up the water inside, and then returned the bottle to the girl. He then took off his raincoat and carefully put it on the girl, helping her to wear it. Then he turned back, looking at his own aide-de-camp, "Go back and report, I… lost my raincoat again."