The Courtyard House: The Little Red Devil Returning from the Peninsula

On December 24th, no stage was set up at the East Field of Baimaling.

Only twelve small flags were planted on the mountain path.

From the first to the last, it's six kilometers. There are two sharp bends, a wooden bridge, a stretch of beach with fake mines, and a scree slope beyond the finish line. Several broken bicycle frames are parked by the roadside, waiting for the procession to arrive and cause a traffic jam.

After Chu Yunfei dismounted, he looked around for a long time but did not see any neat square formations.

Three modified armored vehicles, their metal surfaces of different colors, were hidden in a ditch. Six usable or partially repaired vehicles were parked behind a grove of trees. Two infantry guns under repair, two mountain guns, and six mortars were scattered in different locations. Engineers, communications, medical, transport, and repair personnel were each guarding their respective equipment.

A total of 480 people.

Sun Ming asked, "What about the heavy armor battalion?"

"They're all here." Zhao Weiguo handed over the assessment forms.

The first line of the table reads: "Combined Heavy Armor Battalion No. 1, 480 men, drawn from the 15,500 officially enlisted men of the Independent Regiment. No additional troops will be added, and no official designation exceeding the battalion level will be established."

Chu Yunfei first looked at the line of red text.

You even wrote this?

"To avoid having an extra armored division tomorrow."

Chu Yunfei chuckled.

"You can mobilize 50,000 people."

"Fifty thousand is divided into four columns. Fifteen thousand five hundred are officially recruited, fourteen thousand five hundred are in training, eight thousand are from local units, and twelve thousand are from neighboring units. Your 358th Regiment is in the neighboring unit column, not on my roster."

Chu Yunfei folded the watch.

"That sounds nicer."

The monk stood behind, arms crossed.

"Four hundred and eighty men, and you call that a heavy armored battalion? My two thousand five hundred men don't even have an official designation yet."

Duan Peng chuckled beside him.

"You're the general reserve, there to patch up the holes."

The monk glared at him.

"Those who patch up the holes are also soldiers."

"Soldiers who patch up holes are still soldiers," Zhao Weiguo said without turning around, "but soldiers who patch up holes aren't called a heavy armored battalion."

The monk swallowed his words and muttered something.

"Okay. I'll wait to patch the hole."

The assessment is limited to two and a half hours.

The journey involved navigating minefields, repairing bridges, deploying artillery, rescuing the wounded, and dealing with vehicle malfunctions. Reaching the finish line wasn't the end; it also required taking stock of personnel, artillery, vehicles, ammunition, telephone lines, and the time needed to evacuate the wounded.

The assessment form is divided into six columns: marching, engineering, firepower, communications, first aid, and repair. Each column has a timekeeper. If any group exceeds the time limit, the time gained by another group cannot be used to make up for it. The exit position of vehicles must be recorded when they leave, the location of any late arrival of wounded soldiers must be recorded, and any deviations in artillery shells must be recorded in the original record from the observation post.

Chu Yunfei flipped to the last page and saw that the evaluation criteria only had three options: excellent, qualified, and unqualified. The excellent option was still empty.

"What scores has Commander Zhao prepared to award?"

"We'll talk about it when the car comes back."

None of the three boxes on the table were checked.

A short whistle sounded.

The first armored vehicle emerged from the ditch, followed by two others fifty meters apart. Infantry advanced along both sides of the road, avoiding crowding at the rear of the vehicles. The roof-mounted machine guns maintained their pre-designated firing range, while ammunition handlers inside the vehicles counted off enemy fire.

When we reached the first sharp bend, the car in front stopped.

There were three fake mines buried in the road.

Two engineering teams got off the vehicle; one blocked the road, and the other used probes to examine the soil. Sun Ming looked at the timekeeper.

"More than four minutes have passed, and the passage is still not open?"

The sapper squad leader didn't even look up.

"Three are visible, but we still need to investigate the areas the wheels will travel."

"This is a drill."

"In drills, you use logs to weigh it down; in actual combat, you use vehicles and people. What the hell are you in such a hurry for? The mine isn't going to run away by itself."

Sun Ming stopped asking.

At the sixth minute, a white flag was planted in the safe passage. Engineers lay prone beside the vehicle, meticulously directing the wheel positions inch by inch. Just as the second armored car passed, the engineer vehicle behind turned too sharply, and its right wheel ran over and severed the telephone line.

The communications soldier did not call a halt to the entire team.

One group reconnected along the original line, while the other group activated the backup line. Road obstruction, repair schedules, and the convoy's location were handled by cavalry to transport them to the rear. Each line break was recorded on the assessment form.

The person connecting the wires knelt in the mud, stripping the insulation off the wires. Gloves were in the way, so they could only twist the copper wires with their frozen, red fingers. The spare line was connected first, and after the original line was repaired, a round of mutual calling was conducted to confirm that the voices were clear before the cavalry could withdraw to relay the order. The engineering vehicle that had broken the line was also marked with a responsibility tag, and it was to go back and change the line's location and conduct driver training.

After the convoy crossed the beach, black smoke rose from the direction of the wooden bridge.

The pre-set scenario is that the bridge deck is destroyed, preventing the artillery vehicle from passing directly.

The engineering platoon split into three groups to inspect the bridge piers, unload the sleepers, and build a temporary road on the riverbank. The transport soldiers backed the empty trucks to the bridgehead and used steel cables to tow away the broken truck frames. None of the 480 men went to look.

The artillery deployed on the spot in front of the bridge. Two mountain guns were pushed up the side slope by men, and the mortars occupied the high ground. The medical team laid out bandages, splints and hot water in the sheltered area, and the repair team laid out jacks, wires and spare pins on the ground in order.

Zhao Weiguo stood at a distance, only looking at his watch.

Chu Yunfei asked, "Aren't you going to care how the battalion commander fixes it?"

"If I stand beside every bridge, this camp will not leave without me."

Old Zhou stood next to the gun position, his left shoulder unsupported, his hand resting on the gun wheel.

"Artillery deployed, what if the first shot misses?"

"If it's off-target, we'll fix it," Zhao Weiguo said. "Marking rounds miss, but live ammunition won't have eyes to see it."

Old Zhou put the pipe in his mouth.

"If the first shot went wide, whose fault is it?"

"It's the gunner's fault." Zhao Weiguo didn't look at him. "The observation post reports the correction; the second shot should be controlled. Missing isn't shameful; not correcting is."

Halfway through the bridge planks were laid, the second armored vehicle suddenly emitted white steam.

The driver turned off the engine and jumped out of the car.

"The radiator is leaking!"

The repair team fetched water, removed the protective plates, and retrieved the tow rope. Without waiting for the vehicle to be repaired, the battalion commander ordered a third vehicle to bypass the disabled vehicle and continue leading the way. The leaking vehicle was towed to the side of the road to make way for the artillery vehicle.

Sun Mingdao: "Not going to fix it?"

"Repair it," Zhao Weiguo said, "but don't block the whole road yet."

Twenty-four minutes later, the bridge was ready for artillery vehicles to pass.

The first truck had just gotten onto the bridge when its clutch broke down. The truck was stuck across the bridge, and all the artillery vehicles behind it came to a stop. Repairmen crawled under the truck, while engineers laid sleepers along the side of the bridge, creating a narrow passage for the artillery vehicles. The artillerymen unloaded their ammunition boxes, and a dozen men helped move the guns forward, supporting the wheels.

The driver of the broken-down car tried to repeatedly start it, but the repair team slapped his hand away. The clutch was already locked; forcing it would only damage the gears. They first cut off the oil, installed shims, and then disassembled the car from underneath to inspect it. The broken-down car remained on the bridge, but they couldn't keep the entire team waiting around it.

The wheel grazed the side panel of the damaged car, scraping off a large patch of paint.

No one stopped to feel sorry for the paint.

After crossing the bridge, the two mountain guns were deployed within a limited time.

The first marking round went to the left.

The observation post reported back for corrections, and only the second shot managed to suppress the assumed machine gun position. Mortars sealed off the reverse slope, and armored vehicles advanced along the road to the front, without breaching the rocky slope. Infantry used the vehicles to approach the barbed wire, while engineers cut a gap.

The deviation of the first artillery shot was also recorded in the table.

Old Zhou looked at the deviation record and cursed.

"Damn it, even the marking rounds are off target. With live ammunition, the Japanese don't even need to take cover."

The artillery staff officer shrank back beside him.

"The wind is strong, the measuring tape—"

"A strong wind is no excuse." Old Zhou slammed his pipe on the ground. "Go back and practice more. One centimeter off, one meter off with live ammunition. One meter off, and you're hitting your own people. You got it, buddy?"

The artillery staff officer nodded, picked up the pipe, and handed it back. Old Zhou took it and tapped it again.

The wounded are expected to appear behind the breach.

Four people were seriously wounded: one with an abdominal wound, two with fractures, and one with blood loss. The medics first divided the wounded; those who could walk retreated on their own, those with fractures were splinted, and those with abdominal wounds were only kept warm and their bleeding stopped. Two stretchers were used to transport the most urgent cases first, and the empty trucks behind were converted into vehicles for the wounded, with straw mats laid in the cargo compartments. The communications officer reported the location of the wounded and the time of arrival in advance.

A stretcher was blocked for three minutes while trying to walk around the broken truck.

The sanitation team didn't erase those three minutes. When the stretcher bearer signed at the finish line, his hands were covered in sweat, and the corners of the paper were wet.

The medic in charge of the assessment pressed for details about the cause of the blockage. The stretcher team explained that there was no designated passage for the wounded near the bridge, and that repair toolboxes and unloaded ammunition boxes were blocking the road. The battalion commander immediately added a pedestrian crossing on the map, stipulating that in the future, no equipment should be piled up on this crossing in case of vehicle breakdowns.

The gravel slope is malfunctioning again.

One infantry gun's mount was loose, with the gun wheel off-center by half an inch. If forcibly towed, it might overturn after only two miles. The repair team used jacks to support the breech, replaced worn pins, and then temporarily secured it with steel wire. Another armored vehicle could only wait at the finish line; the leaking one ahead was still under repair halfway.

Limited to two and a half hours.

The team finished in two hours and twenty-seven minutes.

Of the three armored vehicles, only two reached the finish line. One vehicle's water tank leaked and it stalled. One truck's clutch malfunctioned. One infantry gun's mount became loose. The first marking round went astray to the left. A telephone line was broken once. A seriously wounded stretcher arrived three minutes late.

When everyone regrouped, the formation didn't look good.

The mechanic was squatting under the vehicle, the engineers were carrying sleepers from the riverbank, the gunners were covered in mud, and the medics were collecting mud-soaked bandages. Someone suggested they line up first before reporting the results, but Zhao Weiguo stopped them.

"Report it like this."

Zhao Gang led his team to check the accounts item by item. Seven people were missing from the roll call of 480. After investigation, it was found that four people were guarding the broken-down vehicle on the way, two people stayed at the temporary aid station, and one person was still collecting telephone lines under the bridge. All of them had their post receipts. One ammunition box was missing from the roll call. It was actually unloaded at the bridgehead to reduce the weight of the artillery vehicle and was also found on site.

Vehicle fuel consumption was 10% higher than planned. Detouring, idling, and towing all consumed fuel. The repair team used two steel cables, a spare pin, and a bucket of water; the wooden bridge consumed twelve sleepers. Despite no combat casualties during the assessment, a long list of items that must be replenished before the next deployment was compiled.

The assessment conclusion consisted of only two words.

Passed.

There is no excellence.

The battalion commander glanced at his watch; his expression was not good.

"Three minutes to go, and one less car will arrive at the finish line."

"So it's qualified," Zhao Weiguo said. "It can move, it can fight, it can be repaired, and it can be rescued; if any one of these is broken, it doesn't count as a complete refit."

Chu Yunfei walked around the leaking armored vehicle. The welds on the sheet metal were rough, and the wad of cloth blocking the water tank at the front of the vehicle was still dripping water.

"Four hundred and eighty men, their firepower is equivalent to a reinforced battalion."

"We don't have enough fuel, tires, radios, tractors, or mechanics."

"You sure know how to find fault with your own things."

"After it went to the battlefield, the Japanese attacked even more fiercely."

Sun Ming crouched down to look under the car and found that the skid plate had an opening for easy maintenance.

"If we get shot here, the water tank will leak."

The repair team leader said, "We need to make sure the vehicle can move first, then we can modify the skid plates. If they're too tight, the car will break down on the road and you won't even be able to stick your hand in."

Upon hearing this, Chu Yunfei did not draw any conclusions for them, but simply instructed Sun Ming to copy the three items—water tank, tires, and tow rope—into the observation record.

Chu Yunfei returned the assessment form.

"I take back what I said."

Which sentence?

"This isn't just a heavily armed battalion on display."

He only went this far, without incorporating the 358th Regiment or indicating that they would be under Zhao Weiguo's command from then on. The new border agreement signed by both sides at Shiqiao remained valid, and their respective unit numbers and chains of command remained unchanged.

The monk listened from the side and clicked his tongue.

"Commander Chu, the way you're saying that makes it sound like what we're showing is fake."

Chu Yunfei glanced at him.

"I've seen your general reserve team too. Staying in position all day is more tiring than fighting all day, right?"

The monk was taken aback.

How did you know?

"It's written all over your face."

The monk touched his face and said nothing more.

Before the crowd had dispersed, Zhao Tieshan arrived from Shiyao.

He held the billet inspection report in his hand, with a yellow stain left by corrosive liquid on the edge of the paper.

"The low-magnification microstructure of that experimental steel billet has been completed."

The battalion commander laughed first.

Zhao Tieshan put the report back.

"Don't laugh yet. It just means that large pores and inclusions weren't visible on the cross-section. Impact testing hasn't been done, the heat treatment window hasn't been set, and the short billet hasn't been machined yet."

Zhao Weiguo took the report.

"Next step?"

"Stone kiln test shed. Forging begins tonight."

Duan Peng leaned over and glanced at the report.

"Old Zhao, can this steel be used to make gun barrels?"

Zhao Tieshan folded the report and stuffed it into his pocket.

"Why the hell do you ask everyone about the barrel? The low-powered version is already done; there are still eight steps to go before the barrel is finished. You can ask eight times, and it won't skip a single one."

Duan Peng picked up the straw.

"I was just asking."

"Asking is pointless." Zhao Tieshan turned and walked towards the stone kiln. "We'll talk about it after the forging is finished."

Duan Peng watched his retreating figure and spat out the straw.

"Old Zhao," he called out, "once you're done forging, machine a gunstock for me first."

Zhao Tieshan didn't even turn his head: "You carve the gunstock yourself. Machine tools are for making cannons, not for carving gunstocks for you."

"Then I'll carve a scabbard."

"I even carved the scabbard myself."

Duan Peng cursed, picked up the straw again, and turned to leave.

Behind the mountain road, the leaking armored vehicle was still emitting white steam.

The billet report was only stamped with the first red stamp.

Both things can move forward.

It's still a long way from being truly usable.

You need to practice.

Chu Yunfei mounted his horse, took a dozen steps, then reined in, glancing back at the two cleaned mountain cannons. The iron hoops on the cannon wheels gleamed dimly in the setting sun, not a single weld scar concealed.

He said nothing, spurred his horse, and headed towards Lijiapo.

The monk watched his retreating figure and picked up the straw stick.

"Chu Yunfei is a man who observes things very carefully," he said.

Zhao Weiguo didn't reply. He folded the assessment form neatly and put it in his pocket. The ink on the two words on the form—"Qualified"—wasn't completely dry.

Passed.

Not excellent.

But being competent is enough. Excellence is earned through hard work, not just practice.

Once this battalion goes to the battlefield and fights a real battle, its excellence will naturally emerge.

The prerequisite is that they have to come back alive.