Chapter 23: Challenging the Top Brass

Hu Hao was seething. The thousands of lives lost weren’t because the soldiers lacked the will to fight, but because the entire command structure and deployment were a catastrophic failure.

Urban warfare is an advantage for veteran troops, but for greenhorns, it’s a death trap. They had no idea how to fight in this environment. Despite their training, the reality of the battlefield was a different beast. The Imperial troops, having never seen combat, were losing half their strength in a single engagement, while the Allied forces thrived in this kind of chaos.

“You’re saying the Allies want to fight here just to wipe out the armies of these provinces?” Li Jingsong asked, looking at Hu Hao in shock.

“What do you think? Let me ask you: the forces from Tianhe, Tianyu, Tianxiang, Tiangui, Nanshan, and Nandun have all been diverted here. If we take massive casualties now, the Allies will split their forces. I ask you—will those provinces even have a prayer of defending themselves?

The High Command is committing a crime. They are committing a crime against our soldiers. This isn’t how you fight a war! Look around—so many young men dead. These positions are indefensible; they shouldn’t even be held!

From the start, we should have withdrawn to Tianhe Province. We could have set up a real defensive line there. The Allies couldn’t have chased us immediately; their supply lines aren’t ready, and they don’t know our terrain. We had every chance to build a fallback line in the rear. Instead, we’re making pointless sacrifices. If our neighboring corps had just blocked the corridors to the other provinces and waited for more reinforcements—at least three corps per sector—we could have stopped their advance cold.

By the time we moved to static trench warfare, we would have had a core of battle-hardened veterans to lead an offensive. Instead, four corps have already been thrown in, half of them are dead, and the 27th Army is practically erased. Three more corps are arriving soon. If the first day saw half of us wiped out, what do you think happens to the fresh recruits arriving tomorrow? Mmh?

Seven corps can’t stop them. Seventeen corps couldn’t stop them! Not when you’re sending raw recruits into close-quarters combat against veteran Allied units. We are not their equals yet!”

Hu Hao couldn’t steady his breathing. He had wanted to be a mere traveler on this planet, a guest who would see the world and avoid the bloodshed. But seeing these kids die because of the incompetence of the generals and the High Command made his blood boil.

“Look at our veterans,” Hu Hao continued, his voice tight. “Look at this afternoon. There’s about 2,000 of us. How many Allies did we drop? At least 3,000! That is the value of a veteran. And yet the big shots at High Command think victory is just a numbers game. It’s not about how many men you have; it’s about how many soldiers you have. And right now, we’re just a bunch of kids in uniform!”

The soldiers nearby lowered their heads, the weight of his words sinking in.

“Dammit, I knew the deployment was flawed,” Li Jingsong cursed, his own heart aching. “The 27th Army… 60,000 men. Now, not even one in ten is left.”

“Hao-ge, what’s next? Do we keep pushing? We’ve been at it all afternoon! When is the relief coming?” a Battalion Commander asked from the rubble.

“Call and find out!” Hu Hao told Li Jingsong.

“Right.” Li Jingsong summoned his guard and dialed the Army Headquarters. When the call connected, he asked his father when the relief would arrive. The answer: I don’t know.

“My father says he doesn’t know,” Li Jingsong reported.

“Then call the Zone Command directly!” Hu Hao ordered.

Li Jingsong hung up and dialed the Southwest Combat Zone Headquarters. This time, the Commander himself, Jiang Kai, picked up.

“Commander, this is Li Jingsong, 87th Division. We’ve stabilized the defense in Sector 11. When can we expect relief?”

“Relief will arrive in one hour,” Jiang Kai replied. “What’s your current strength?”

“Uh… strength?” Li Jingsong looked at Hu Hao. “Hey, it’s noisy here!” he shouted into the phone, buying time to look at Hu Hao for an answer.

Hu Hao picked up a stone and scratched into the concrete floor: Approx. 1,000, heavily dispersed.

“Commander, we have about 1,000 effectives left, heavily dispersed, with many wounded,” Li Jingsong repeated.

“Hold for one hour. After that, a division from the 29th Army will rotate in to take over your positions,” Jiang Kai barked.

“Yes, sir! Holding for one hour!”

“And Jingsong? You did good. But don’t lie to me—who’s that person standing next to you? That Captain?” Jiang Kai asked suddenly.

“Huh?” Li Jingsong’s heart hammered. He looked around wildly, wondering how Jiang Kai could possibly know what was happening on the ground.

“Stop looking around. The Captain. The one looking at you right now,” Jiang Kai said.

“Report… that’s Captain Hu Hao, sir!” Li Jingsong was sweating now.

“I know you have nearly 2,000 men from your division, plus the remnants of the 28th Army and the 88th Division in Sector 11. There are at least 10,000 soldiers in your vicinity. Organize them. That Captain—Hu Hao—he said only veterans can lead an attack. If you can push forward 500 meters and drive the enemy to the edge of Sector 11, I’ll personally see you both decorated. That goes for Hu Hao, too,” Jiang Kai commanded.

Inside the Zone Command center, Jiang Kai stood before a wall of monitors. One of them was a live feed of Hu Hao and Li Jingsong.

“I can’t guarantee that, sir. You’ll have to ask Hu Hao,” Li Jingsong said, looking at the Captain.

“Then put Hu Hao on the phone!” Jiang Kai ordered.

“Here. The Commander knows we’re here. He knows the situation. He wants to talk to you,” Li Jingsong said, thrusting the handset at Hu Hao.

“The Zone Commander? What for?” Hu Hao asked, genuinely surprised.

“How should I know?”

Hu Hao took the phone. “This is Hu Hao.”

Jiang Kai switched to speakerphone. The entire command center went silent as the Generals and staff officers turned to listen.

“Captain Hu Hao, is that how you address a superior? No ‘Report,’ no ‘Sir’?” Jiang Kai asked.

“Heh. I might be dead in an hour, sir. Why should I care about formalities? What do you want?” Hu Hao replied casually.

“You just told my staff that this Command is committing a crime. You said we’re sending fresh recruits to their deaths. Was that you?” Jiang Kai stood with his hands behind his back, watching Hu Hao on the screen. “Aide, adjust the drone’s gimbal. Get me a close-up of his face.”

“Crap—a drone!” Hu Hao realized it instantly. He looked up, spotted the small craft, and leveled his rifle at it.

“Don’t shoot! It’s one of ours,” Jiang Kai shouted. “I’m asking you: if you think we’re doing it wrong, how should I fight this? Tell me. Otherwise, I’ll have you brought up on charges!”

“Charges? Hmph. If the souls of the boys we lost today could speak, they’d be the ones charging you,” Hu Hao said, staring into the drone’s lens. “Why are you defending a city? You knew the enemy was prepared and we weren’t. You’ve emptied out several provinces just to feed this meat grinder. Tell me, Commander—how many days do you think we can really hold?”

“High Command expects us to hold for two months,” Jiang Kai said.

“Two months? They’re dreaming! I’m telling you now: if you only use seven corps, we’ll be wiped out in less than a week. The Allies will occupy the entire south. Two months? Let’s bet on it, Commander. I might die today, but if you hold for seven days with those seven corps, I’ve got 100,000 credits in my account—it’s yours. If you don’t hold, you lose. You give me 100,000; if I’m dead, send it to my family.

Seven corps for seven days. Ten corps for two weeks. If you want two months, you need twenty corps—1.2 million men—and at least 800,000 of them won’t be coming home.” Hu Hao sat there, openly challenging the highest commander in the theater.

“I’ll take that bet,” Jiang Kai said. “100,000 is nothing. But if I lose, I’ll give you a real prize. Once you reach Colonel, I’ll personally ensure you clear the hurdle to Brigadier General. And if I win and you’re still breathing? What then?”

“Whatever you want,” Hu Hao said.

“Good. Then you come to my Headquarters and serve as my personal staff officer!” Jiang Kai said.

“Huh?” Hu Hao blinked, thinking he had misheard.