Munitions Empire

As a commander of an infantry division, on any given day he was a rather respectable man, his boots were always spotless, his uniform always pressed to perfection. Even his military vehicle was frequently cleaned, helped by his aide-de-camp, the driver, and the guards. He felt he had to be a role model, standing there with dignity, like a pine or a cypress, inspiring his soldiers to move forward. But now, he was in a sorry state. His boots could protect his calves, but the rain kept pouring in. His boots felt like fish ponds, and he guessed his feet were probably bleeding. There had been a damn pebble in his boot when he walked over, which, insulated by a sock, only made the sole of his foot slightly uncomfortable. But now, soaked, his feet were likely wrinkled and pale, the once insignificant pebble having turned into a sharp blade that could pierce the skin. His clothes were thoroughly soaked, clinging to him uncomfortably. Suddenly he understood why many people here were reluctant to wear clothes at all, as clothing itself became a restraint... As much as he wanted to, he still decided not to take off his uniform; his uniform represented the dignity of the Tang Kingdom. So he stood in the rain, clearly identifiable as a colonel at a glance. The soldiers around him seemed to work faster, knowing their division commander had arrived. He just stood there, unmoving in the rain, like a statue. The persistent rain made the work extremely difficult; concrete simply wouldn't set in this weather, the sand and soil would wash away with the rain, and eventually those seemingly impervious dams would spring leaks or even breach. But to save the towns behind them, the villages, to protect the civilians still hurriedly harvesting their crops, to preserve the newly built roads, the freshly laid railroad tracks, the recently erected telegraph poles... they could only continue to reinforce those precariously poised embankments. "Take a break?" asked a civilian without a military cap, sheltering under a conical hat, shoveling earth while addressing the soldier propping up a sack. The soldier shook his head, wiping the mix of rain and sweat on his face, "No, I'm scared of being poor again, just when I've seen my home become wealthy. That house, that land, that money, and grain, nobody can take them away! Not even the heavens!" The man with the conical hat nodded, continued to dig with his shovel, scooping the muddy soil into sandbags one shovel at a time. He knew that's how it was; having finally eaten his fill and dressed warmly, no one could take this life from them, not even the heavens! But he also knew that the homes of these soldiers were not behind them; some came from the north, others from the east, and had no reason to be fighting desperately here. Previously, the soldiers of Zheng Country wouldn't care about such matters; they would just lean on the city gates with their muskets, extorting tolls and snatching the fruits from the carts of farmers coming to town to sell their produce. In times of disaster, floods, or strife, no matter what calamities befell, those soldiers would just shut the city gates and drive away the refugees from atop the walls, gazing coldly at the desperate and starving masses outside the city. But now, it seemed like something was changing. The once imposing military lords were now fighting side by side with these civilians. Though these lands had nothing to do with these soldiers, they still hadn't left; instead, they stood at the forefront, shielding the common folk! From the moment they saw these official troops rushing to the embankments, the nearby civilians understood a phrase that the government officials had told them, which they hadn't understood at the time: the soldiers of Great Tang don't have the habit of hiding behind civilians. People's hearts are made of flesh; when an army chooses to stand with the people, they become invincible. In the past, no one cared about the life or death of civilians, a human life at that time was worth less than a dog in a noble's estate. After every major disaster or epidemic, the unclaimed land would end up as the private property of the wealthy and powerful, and for those affluent merchants, natural disasters were opportunities to fortune. But the detestable villains hated to the bone had all been killed by the new, young magistrates; those who used to oppress the people were all dead. Now, nobody oppressed the civilians anymore; the land had been fairly distributed to everyone. Although ownership of the land nominally belonged to the Tang Country, the deeds clearly granted the people the right to cultivate it. These lands were now their own, and they would not give them up, even in death! Let alone a flood, even if Death himself came, they would fight to the very last moment! Those who stood beside you in battle, those who shed blood with you, they were your brothers! Today, these soldiers became my kin, my brethren! "It's leaking! It's leaking! Quick! Someone come! Someone come!" A patrolling woman screamed heartrendingly, and the surrounding soldiers instinctively rushed towards the direction of the shouts. They were covered in mud, not looking back, grabbing their tools and rushing towards where the river water was gushing out: "Quick! Block it! Go! Go people!" The first soldier didn't even think before pressing the half-filled sandbag against the spraying spot, then his entire body pressed onto it, followed by other soldiers who clumsily began to help, their shouting rising and falling. "From over there! Look from that side!" Dirty river water was jetting out on this side, while on the levee, there were people shouting and giving directions. Soon, two soldiers and a few locals jumped into the raging waters, tied with ropes, and dived underwater to inspect. The bare-chested men struggling in the churning waves seemed to exude a stubbornness like declaring war against the heavens. "You all go! We don't want the land anymore, we don't want our houses anymore, hurry up and leave!" Seeing that the levee could no longer be defended, a local grabbed a platoon leader who was filling sandbags and shouted loudly. "You go first, we haven't received orders to retreat!" The platoon leader lifted the sandbag and ran towards the levee without looking back, his voice gradually dissipating in the rain. The breach in the levee was getting larger and it seemed beyond control, there weren't enough sandbags, and it appeared that everything was too late. Enduring the intense pain in his feet, the division commander stepped towards the breach, commanding loudly as he walked: "Those with sons and daughters, follow me! The rest of you retreat immediately! Wake up those who are resting! To the levee! To the levee!" He arrived next to the breach and looked at the surging water, gritting his teeth: "Use humans to block! Third row, go down first! If not enough, second row goes on top!" "Sir, sir!" The man who had just urged the soldiers to leave squeezed through the crowd and grabbed the division commander's arm: "Sir! It can't be blocked! There's no time! Please leave! We will remember this favor! Please go first!" "Move aside! Hurry up and organize the civilians on the levee to evacuate! Take the elderly, children, and women first! Go to higher ground! Hurry!" He pushed and stumbled, nearly losing his balance. A guard with quick reflexes reached out to support him, preventing him from falling embarrassingly: "Married men with children, get in the water! Don't try to be heroes!" One after another, soldiers jumped into the water, no one turned back or hesitated, they linked arms and stood there, forming a human wall to hold back the raging river from the breached levee. The soldiers who followed constructed a new defense line in the reduced flow, stacking sandbags one by one, along with the pre-prepared wooden planks, to reinforce the entire levee. By nightfall, the levee finally stabilized, another flood peak had passed, and the reinforcing troops arrived; another new battalion charged onto the levee, shouting as if facing fierce enemies. The division commander was helped down from the levee; he couldn't walk anymore. When he took off his boots, his socks came off with them, along with half a piece of his foot's skin. In a tent only dimly lit and damp, he personally picked out a sharp pebble from the bloody sole of his foot. He cried, tears flowing uncontrollably. It wasn't the pain that made him cry, or perhaps the pain did make him cry—his foot didn't hurt, his heart did. His crying was terrible, and he couldn't hold back his own voice. Of the two rows of soldiers who went into the water, 15 were washed away, never to be seen again by anyone. They left behind only their name-tagged uniforms hanging in the tent and their canteens left with the local civilians... These relics were now in his tent, because all the other tents were already overcrowded. In the early hours of the next day, the city hall accounted for five missing soldiers. Two nobles, who had contracted for the levee project, were brought out and executed by firing squad in front of everyone on the levee. The local civilians were even somewhat bewildered because the levee built here was possibly the strongest they had seen in thirty years. But nobody pleaded for these two men, because before the night was over, they had lost fifteen benefactors. The rain seemed to have lessened a bit, but the levee was still very dangerous. There was more construction material coming in, and along with the trucks came new sandbags and tools. Women and children began to move to higher ground as instructed, and because they had to leave their homes, more than half of the military tents and raincoats that came with the troops were lost. No one bothered about these things—they never had from the start. A man wearing a bamboo hat still stood guard on the levee, hoping to find the few young soldiers whose faces he recognized. But he never saw those young men again; their features were actually quite blurry in his memory, because their faces were always covered with rain. Yet he refused to forget these people, so he stood guard on the levee, hoping they would return, but they would never come back, never ever again.