Roosevelt is dead!
Nothing has changed—Roosevelt is dead.
On April 12th, Roosevelt died of a sudden cerebral hemorrhage at Warm Springs, Georgia.
"Well, that guy finally died!"
Upon hearing the news, unlike everyone else, Pierre felt nothing but joy.
There was no helping it—after all, as the maker of presidents, he had finally succeeded in sending his first Arican president to the White House.
"Heh, actually, making a president doesn't feel all that special."
To say he wasn't excited would be a lie, but to say he was extrely excited would also be a lie.
After all, even as president, the returns he could offer beyond his powers were limited.
In fact, Pierre's feelings were complicated. Having made a president for the first ti, he was naturally anxious about the outco—now that Truman had taken office, what kind of return would he offer in response?
As a businessman, after making an investnt, one always hopes for a return.
There's no helping it—we're all just ordinary people!
Like everyone else, Pierre of course had to send a ssage of condolence to Roosevelt's family, expressing that the passing of President Roosevelt was a great loss to the cause of human justice. At the sa ti, he had to send a congratulatory telegram to Truman, congratulating him on assuming the presidency of the United States and expressing confidence that, under his leadership, the cause of human justice would achieve new victories.
In short, the main the was contrast.
But whether it was loss or victory, none of it affected the training of the Borneo Security Forces. Training continued as usual, though flags were ceremonially lowered to half-mast and a morial service was held for Roosevelt.
The day after Roosevelt's death, a transport ship arrived from Australia, part of the US military's logistics fleet. As the ship docked, the officers and captains crowded on deck stared in amazent at the planes roaring overhead, muttering:
"My God, why are there so many planes in the sky…"
There were a lot of planes—at least a hundred.
For these newly arrived officers and captains, such a number of aircraft was unimaginable, and these planes were only for… ground support.
"What do you think Boss will do with us?"
"That's not important."
A middle-aged man looked at Zamboanga and said,
"What matters is we are doing the right thing. Many of the Japanese fighters dispatched here are war criminals who have inflicted pain and suffering on many innocent Filipino and Korean civilians."
His words left everyone on deck silent.
Yes, nothing is more important than fighting the Japanese. Back ho, they could only sit on the sidelines, but now, they had another chance to fight.
Half an hour later, as the group disembarked, they saw the legendary "Boss" for the first ti. The highest-ranking officer among them, Sun Chendong, did not imdiately step forward. Instead, he ordered everyone to form up, and with a series of commands, the officers quickly assembled in formation.
As they stood at attention, Pierre looked over these officers. They were all demobilized officers who had been downsized from previous service. The highest rank was colonel, the lowest was captain. All were selected through the imperial uncle's military connections. What was the main characteristic of these n?
They were all battle-hardened, but by no ans part of the inner circle, so in...
The dostic military was like a group of stepchildren—worst equipnt, worst personnel, and even their assignnts were... well, the most dangerous kind. After fighting until they were barely hanging on, and taking advantage of last year's military reorganization and strengthening, these people were directly demobilized. To call it "demobilization" was just a nicer way of saying "disbanded"—after all, demobilized officers received no salary, they were simply on standby.
In the past, these were the so-called "supplentary officers," waiting for who knows how long before being called back into service.
Wait a few more years, and maybe they'd get activated again, a commission in hand, and beco so commander.
That's right, just to send these guys off to die again.
So!
With people like this coming here, Pierre really wasn't worried about their loyalty, because... they were all people with nowhere else to go.
The Imperial Uncle's skill lay in the fact that none of the officers he recomnded were generals—most were field-grade officers. These people had no real roots or backing in the military; otherwise, they wouldn't have been demobilized. Field-grade officers have both frontline combat experience and the ability to command troops in battle.
If this group could be properly trained, they could definitely hold up the entire security force.
With a sigh, Pierre saw a colonel walk up to him and report:
"Reporting the third batch of Borneo Company contractors totals 354, with 350 present. Please address the n."
What about the others?
"One died of illness in India, and three are being treated in hospitals in Australia. They're all battle-hardened veterans—who among them doesn't have so injury or illness?"
Pierre didn't stand during the ceremony. After returning a salute, he stood before this group of field and company-grade officers and said:
"At ease."
Swish!
Their movents were neat and crisp, not a hint of sloppiness.
Nodding with satisfaction, Pierre spoke:
"First of all, welco, everyone. I'm sure you all know that while you're called company employees, in reality, you're here to fight. Yes, to fight the Japanese!"
Standing in front of this group, Pierre spoke bluntly.
"I know why you're all here—it's to fight the Japanese. I can't promise you anything else, but there's one promise I can make: I will lead you all the way to Japan, all the way to Tokyo, to get drunk with geishas under Mount Fuji. That's my dream, and not even the Emperor himself can stop ! I believe it's your dream too!"
As soon as he finished, the formation of over a thousand n burst into laughter.
"Yes, that's right, Commander Li! We dream of getting drunk (or sleeping) with geishas under Mount Fuji!"
"Yeah, we want to sleep with those Japanese won!"
It was hard to tell, given everyone's accent, whether they ant "get drunk" or "sleep," but it was all the sa.
Such a crude and simple welco left Sun Chendong and the others both shocked and enlightened—they finally understood why the Imperial Uncle had said, "Go ahead, you won't regret it. There's a place for you here!"
That's why they'd traveled thousands of miles to get here!
Though it was just a few simple words, they felt sothing different—this Mr. Pierre, famous back ho, was not like the others.
It made sense: anyone who could be friends with the president and be entrusted with hundreds of millions of dollars' worth of supplies must have sothing extraordinary about him.
Soon, the group arrived at the military camp, and as soon as they entered, they were stunned by what they saw—armored vehicles!
Rows upon rows of armored vehicles appeared before their eyes—hundreds of them. In the distant rice paddies, dozens of tanks the size of houses rumbled through the water. Suddenly, the long barrels of the tanks spat fire, and the sound of cannon fire rolled toward them. Everyone stared in amazent at the tanks, murmuring:
"These... these armored vehicles, are... are they all ours...?"
"That's right."
The jeep driver replied proudly.
"They're all captured from the Germans. The brothers' weapons too. Over there are Panther tanks, over 40 tons, the best tanks Germany has. We have more than a hundred of them, and over 200 Panzer IVs—almost 400 tanks in total..."
Four hundred!
For a mont, everyone was speechless with shock.
While everyone was marveling at the armored vehicles, Pierre, sitting in the car, was already thinking about the unit organization.
Maybe it was ti to consider forming a few reinforced brigades.
Currently, the largest unit in the security force was a regint. Aside from seven regints, the rest were reinforced battalions.
That was the reality of the security force—with so few qualified commanders, battalions had to be the main combat unit.
A force of over a thousand has no borders; a force of over ten thousand has no boundaries.
Back at Bastogne, Pierre had already realized that commanding ten thousand n was a completely different matter from commanding a few hundred.
That was why he had taken Sun Delin's advice... In the entire security force, he was the only one with experience commanding a regint. The others, at best, had been company commanders or deputy battalion commanders.
So, reinforced battalions had beco the best option. But in Borneo, there were Japanese regints, so large-scale formations were unavoidable.
These new arrivals had co at just the right ti—they could be slotted into the units to form several reinforced brigades. That way, even if they ran into large Japanese forces, they wouldn't have to fight separately.
Provided, of course, that they could pass the test.
"Ti is running out..."
With a sigh, Pierre glanced at the calendar on his watch. There weren't many days left.
Reviews
All reviews (0)