Canteen System Assistance Notes

Chapter 682: For Hope (3) Scar Healing

(Finally caught up with the update)

"The victims here are temporarily unable to eat enough - please allow me to explain the ambiguity here, because they have been hungry for too long and have lost the awareness of their own food intake. It is just like what I saw during the Great Depression: for a long-term

If people are hungry and may have been eating peanut shells, tree bark and grass roots for the previous meal, they will eat themselves to death if a table full of delicious food is suddenly placed in front of them.

"The Communist doctors also told me that even if a few lucky individuals didn't burst their stomachs from the food they ate, they would die painfully from liver failure within the next few days.

"So, on the first day they were rescued by the rescue team, the Communist army fed them with soup made from rice with a lot of salt added to it to restore their strength. On the second day, they were dispersed and taken to the military base.

If they did not feel unwell after drinking the salty rice soup, they would switch to eating noodles with chopped vegetables: these noodles were very thin, like hair, and were called 'dragon beard noodles'.

"Only on the third or fourth day, if these poor souls are still feeling well, can they start eating normally – but of course, they still need to eat in moderation."

American journalist Theodore H. White, also known as Theodore White, is writing in his interview notebook.

"The leader of the Communist army told me that this set of procedures, in addition to the support of medical knowledge, also hidden several lives: when they just started to treat the victims, some soldiers were so distressed that they shed tears and gave away the snacks they brought with them.

When the food was distributed to the disaster victims, several people suffered from bloating and almost died.

"Good intentions can lead to bad consequences, that's how it is—but even so, compared to the Kuomintang government on the other side, the Communist government at least still acts in accordance with the kindness and responsibility that humans should have."

After faithfully reporting on a portion of the disaster in Henan Province, White, in this time and space, was "expelled" even earlier than in the original history. While the Nationalist government could not do anything to White, a registered American journalist, it could force him to stop working normally in the Kuomintang-controlled areas by ordering the closure of the Ta Kung Pao and executing the telegraph operator who sent it telegrams.

However, if things get dark in the east, there will be bright in the west. In this time and space, White Xiude also made a completely different choice from that in history: after the Eighth Route Army started "armed disaster relief", with the help of some strange and friendly people, he crossed the Kuomintang-controlled area and came to

Arrived at the liberated area where the Eighth Route Army was located.

"Anyway... He checked the ink remaining in the ink sac and was about to write.

"Mr. Bai, please get ready." A soldier poked his head in from the doorway of the dilapidated house. "We're done here, and we'll be moving on to the next location soon."

"Okay, I understand, thank you."

Edgar Snow, a multilingual master who was proficient in Yiddish, Hebrew, English, Latin, German and French, was also fluent in Chinese. He quickened his pace, wrote the last sentence on the notebook, packed up his things, picked up his bag and walked out of the house.

"In short, in the east of Henan Province, I did see administrative and military forces working hard for disaster relief."

On the edge of the Yellow River flood area in eastern Henan, Bai Xuede followed an armed work team from the Shuixi base and walked in the disaster area.

The work team was quite large, with about 180 people in total, carrying a large amount of supplies. They patrolled the areas that were not affected by the Yellow River floods but were plagued by drought, locust plagues and banditry, providing relief to the displaced victims and providing them with

To White, this looked like a cross between a transport convoy and a missionary team.

But at the same time, this work team also carried heavy weapons - the team of nearly 200 people had both light and heavy machine guns, and even grenade launchers and small-caliber mortars. Bai Xiude had previously found it strange. In his understanding, disaster relief

Why machine guns and mortars when rifles are sufficient to maintain order?

This doubt disappeared after he encountered two consecutive battles in one day: it turned out that the targets of the Eighth Route Army's armed defense included not only the Japanese army and the Wang Puppet Army, but also the "guerrillas" of the National Army who were both soldiers and bandits, the armed forces of secret societies, militias, professional robbers or bandits who were forced to become bandits, and even animals that would gradually appear after the battle - the "Chinese coyotes" that gathered in groups, were fat, strong and aggressive.

"As to why these feral domestic dogs are so robust and rampant in drought-stricken Henan Province, I don't want to dwell on it," White wrote after the "encounter" several days ago. However, today's journey went relatively smoothly. The team encountered no hostile forces or any beasts. They searched several villages as planned, essentially completing their planned rescue mission.

For those still able to move in groups, the work team distributed rice soup and porridge and directed them to the Shuixi base, allowing them to make their own way to the relief station in the rear. For those who were ill and could barely walk, the team's doctors examined, isolated, and treated them to see if they could regain their mobility. The team then decided whether to bring them along, depending on the situation.

These tasks were tedious and tedious, even tiresome. The disaster victims, who had only been fed for a few days, were filthy and stinking. Although they held a simple sense of gratitude and repaying the Eighth Route Army, they had never experienced collective life and had no sense of discipline. Whenever the Eighth Route Army arrived in a village to begin disaster relief, there would always be an unspeakable chaos—some people would turn and flee at the sight of those in uniform, others would instinctively grab the food, and some would kneel and pray after eating the rice soup and gruel distributed by the Eighth Route Army, believing that the Eighth Route Army were reinforcements sent by the Bodhisattva...

The members of the Eighth Route Army were not extraordinary people. In the midst of such complicated affairs, Bai Xuede could see their fatigue, but he could also see that these young soldiers controlled their temper and did the rescue work.

"The vast majority of the victims suffered from malnutrition, followed by stomach problems, lung diseases, and diarrhea... In short, most of the illnesses were related to hunger. Eighth Route Army doctors told me that even with treatment and nutritional supplements, many of them would find it difficult to fully recover. They had previously eaten a lot of food they shouldn't have eaten just to fill their stomachs, completely damaging their bodies."

Infected by this atmosphere, Theodore White was not content to be a mere observer. He helped while recording his observations and memories on film.

He had seen so much devastation in the disaster area that he didn't even need to record much. Compared to the almost universal grief and human tragedy he had witnessed in the Kuomintang-controlled areas, being closer to the victims here allowed him to interview and learn more about the conditions in the disaster area.

I asked an elderly man about his experience, and he told me that due to drought and locust plagues, the farmland around the village had yielded almost nothing, yet the burden of taxes grew heavier day by day. Finally, rumors spread that uniformed troops were approaching, and the entire village erupted in chaos. People took the last vestiges of their already bare homes and fled. He, too old to run, split open his last door, built a fire, and ate his last sliver of food. Then, with his remaining strength, he dug a hole for himself and lay down in it, waiting to die.

"A couple told me that because they were starving, the wife approached her husband about selling herself in exchange for food. Before the deal was completed, the wife said her pants were more intact and offered to take them off to her husband. Inspired by this, the husband hugged his wife and said, 'I'd rather die than sell you,' so let's just starve together.

"And just today, something happened in my village."

Bai Xiude looked outside at the still-rioting disaster victims and work team members. He saw an Eighth Route Army soldier stamping his feet against the wall, clutching his head. He faced the villagers sitting on the ground, unable to strike or scold them. He clenched his fists tightly, looking extremely frustrated.

Our campsite today is close to the Shuixi base, where conditions are slightly better. It's said that to combat desertification and salinization caused by the Yellow River's flooding, the Communist government planted numerous ailanthus trees—these plants can tolerate a certain amount of salt and alkali, and act as a barrier to windblown sand. However, when the refugees arrived, even though the Communist Party had provided them with sufficient food, many villagers ignored the warnings and ate the leaves of the ailanthus trees.

"The leaves of the Ailanthus tree are poisonous. Over a dozen people suffered from diarrhea and abdominal pain. Several even died from dehydration and electrolyte imbalances due to their weakened bodies."

Outside the small village, there were the sighs of adults, the cries of children, and the sound of wind carrying dust.

The sound of the wind was a little noisy, but for some reason, they were not shrouded in sadness.

The victims selected respected people and began to simply dress the deceased. The Eighth Route Army also found folded thin coffins and quicklime from the supply trucks to bury those who had just eaten for a few days and still showed signs of severe malnutrition.

There was no other way; even fuel for cremation was hard to find. But at least they could have a relatively respectable funeral. "Dear Heavenly Father, may they rest in peace under your care..."

The desolate atmosphere infected White. He made the sign of the cross on his chest and prayed for those who died on their final journey to salvation. However, upon seeing the Eighth Route Army soldiers busy at work, he finally stopped. The disaster had carved scars on the Chinese land and left scars in the hearts of the Chinese people. Healing these wounds would require countless efforts and a long time.

Fortunately, some people have already embarked on the journey.

Chapter 683: The Lucky Meal on the Nautilus

"I bet $5 that none of the devil's cans Django opens today are bad." "I bet $10 that at least one of them is bad today."

"Should I go find the gas mask then?"

A pewter steel table was welded to the floor, along with a round stool polished to a shine by buttocks. Django, the black cook, dressed in a short-sleeved shirt and apron, clasped his hands together in a ritualistic, silent prayer. Before him, stacked like a pyramid, were several 500g cans of "Eighth Street Liver Paste."

"Lord, please bless our bodies and let us hold you in our hearts. In the name of Jesus we pray..." He made the sign of the cross and whispered, "Amen."

After the prayer, under the scorching gazes of the half-naked men around him, Chef Django slowly took a can from the top of the pyramid and grabbed a can opener. His movements were fast and steady, gripping the can, pressing the can opener, and turning the crank in one go.

Then...

"Pfft!"

A slight sound of pressure release stood out from the noisy background sound, like a galloping cavalry; the vanguard composed of an incomprehensible turbid liquid followed closely behind, and driven by internal pressure, it shot out along the "tinplate defense line" pierced by an indescribable object, like mercury pouring out and splashing everywhere.

Afterwards, the general named "Hydrogen Sulfide" beat the war drums and blew the bugle calls, leading the two major regiments of "Noisy" and "Pentamethylenediamine" into the battlefield in an upright battle formation, demonstrating their unparalleled destructive power and absolute dominance on the olfactory battlefield.

"Oh my God!" "Mom!" "Ugh!"

Ping-pong, gulp, clatter, and snap! The small cabin was instantly in turmoil. The American sailors were instantly defeated and dismantled. They threw away their armor and fled in all directions. Some of those who had been betting just now even gave up their bets, thinking only of rushing outside the dining room and locking the watertight door.

"Alas... Goddess Li Yun isn't favoring me today." The experienced Mr. Jiang Ge tensed up, held his breath, and wiped his face with a towel. "The first one is bad..."

It is said that the navy is the most stylish branch of the military, and this is true: beautiful military uniforms, generous salaries, and a huge steel "wife" to accompany them - ahem, this is indeed true, but not entirely true.

After all, while the Navy is supposed to be about grace, "on a submarine, grace is a jerk."

The cramped space, the darkness devoid of sunlight, the oppressive heat... If one tried to dress appropriately in such an environment, tea in hand, and act presentable, they would likely end up drenched and succumbing to heatstroke. Therefore, submarine sailors are often quite slovenly.

The same is true for the V-4 class submarine SM-1, also known as the USS Nautilus in the US Navy.

Especially since their mission was a "long voyage", in addition to 87 sailors and officers, the ship also brought 36 excess mechanics who were to be stationed in China.

Departing Pearl Harbor and resupplying at Midway Island, the USS Nautilus began its westward expedition. According to the agreement between the Chinese Communist Party and the Navy, the Eighth Route Army would establish a transit port at Rizhao in Shandong Province for Allied submarines to rest and resupply; the US Navy would provide the Eighth Route Army with supplies and equipment and assist in the construction of port facilities.

However, China's entire coastline was now under a blockade by the Japanese Navy, and ordinary surface vessels were unable to penetrate the Japanese "absolute defense zone." To transport supplies into China, they had to traverse the Indian Ocean, passing through Iran and then entering China via the "Northwest Passage." However, land transportation had inherent limitations: the total amount of supplies that could be transported, the transportation costs, and even the variety of goods that could be transported were insufficient.

This is really troublesome.

However, the Eighth Route Army was also seeking a solution to this problem. Therefore, on the one hand, China and the United States coordinated supplies under the alliance system and prepared to set up factories in the liberated areas to produce some supplies locally to reduce import pressure. On the other hand, they began to dispatch submarines to prepare to sneak across the Japanese blockade line and establish direct maritime contact with the Eighth Route Army.

The USS Nautilus was the perfect choice for this mission. As one of the few large submarines in the US Navy, it boasted a maximum submerged displacement of 4288 tons. After removing its two mine-laying equipment and ammunition, its vast cargo hold could hold nearly 1000 tons of supplies. Furthermore, its ample internal space gave it a range of over 18000 nautical miles under extreme conditions (with the main ballast tanks sacrificing fuel), and 800 nautical miles under normal conditions, sufficient for all mission scenarios.

Half a month ago, this large submarine set out again from Midway Island, heading towards the Western Pacific Ocean by day and night. According to the route plan, they planned to sail northwest first, then turn southwest to cross the island chain after sighting the Japanese mainland, and finally turn north to reach their destination.

Perhaps it's due to the Japanese being overconfident, even arrogant, about their "absolute defense zone," but the "Nautilus"'s illegal crossing has been quite successful so far.

However, even a submarine as large as the "Nautilus" cannot escape the "inevitable fate" of long-distance submarine voyages: as the number of days away from the port gradually increases, the food on the ship becomes more and more "devilish".

Even though the Zhiyu's massive size allowed her to install a bread maker and oven to supply freshly baked bread to the crew, and even had room for a dedicated officers' mess, the ship's cold storage was limited, making it impossible to store much good food. Furthermore, as fresh meat and vegetables gradually consumed and spoiled after leaving port, the crew had to resort to a diet of canned and preserved foods. At this point, even the most skilled chefs would likely be unable to produce anything particularly delicious.

From veal chops with fries and fresh tomatoes, to pasta with canned shrimp broth, to simmered peas and dried meat, and finally to a ham and sauerkraut sandwich with a hint of sister-in-law flavor...

"I opened the can today and there was only one can of liver paste that was spoiled."

The black cook, Django, stood up from the table and announced to the crew members who were peering out of the dining room door: "Gentlemen, those who guessed 'no bad cans' or 'more than one bad can', please hand in your bets. For dessert tonight, you will only receive 'tomato pudding'; the rest of you can enjoy lemon pie."

"Oh! Great, I guessed one!"

"No! I don't want to eat the 'tomato eraser'!"

Just like "Mussolini's butt" and "Nelson's bacon", the sour and unpalatable "tomato pudding" is also a nightmare for the US Navy. Cheers and wails rang out around the restaurant and spread to other cabins through word of mouth. At this time, the sonar detection of the navies of various countries was still in its infancy, and no one had the habit of speaking in low voices like later submarine crews. A sad atmosphere quickly spread - it seemed that there were not a few people who would have to eat "tomato-flavored leather" today.

"Don't worry! I heard at Midway that once we get to China, they'll treat us to light beer, corn tortillas, Chinese cabbage, and peppercorn steak. A whole portion will only be 50 cents, and the Navy will reimburse you!" someone consoled a guy who had been eating tomato pudding for a week. "You can eat as much as you want. We have a camp over there too. It's closed, but it's just like Hawaii, except there's no Missus."

"Doesn't that mean I can't go out casually?"

"Yeah, but what can you do outside of China? Count rice in the fields..."

Before the two could finish their words, the submarine's brass trumpets suddenly blared a furious command from the bridge control room. Then, the shrill blast echoed throughout the entire ship three times in a row. "Dive, dive, dive!" The boatswain's command to dive was urgent and rapid. "All hands, Battle stations!"

After a brief pause, the dining room erupted in a commotion. The sailors, still agonizing over pudding and lemon pie, began arguing, but now they were rushing to their respective positions at breakneck speed. In less than a minute, the 4,000-ton behemoth emerged from its semi-submerged state and descended to combat depth.

"Very good, boys!" The voice from the brass tube continued without stopping, and the voice of Captain Stephen-George Bachet took over: "Attention! The periscope has spotted a Japanese flat-top boat!" "This is a rare opportunity, let's give her a taste of her own medicine!"

"Ouch! Yes, yes, sir!"

In July 1942, the Pacific Ocean was calm and peaceful. The IJN's regular aircraft carrier, Hiyo, was creeping towards Yokosuka at a snail's pace of less than 10 knots.

It was bad luck, because just ten days ago in the Battle of Louisiade, the Imperial Navy sank one US aircraft carrier and severely damaged two aircraft carriers at the cost of one light carrier sunk, one aircraft carrier damaged, and two aircraft carriers slightly damaged, thus winning a great victory. However, the aircraft carrier "Flying Eagle" that was "damaged" was not attacked by enemy aircraft, but was "damaged" by itself due to a boiler explosion when it was evading at high power.

With only one set of engines left functioning, the Flying Eagle had to sail back to the mainland at the speed of a merchant ship and prepare to enter the canal for repairs.

However, being able to return to their homeland was a good thing for most of the crew members. After drifting on the sea for so long, even though they had military merits, they still felt homesick and wanted to go home for a visit.

Zhang Yuan, the captain of the Flying Eagle, was holding this mentality as he squatted at his battle position and surveyed the golden sea. After all, they were close to the mainland, so he relaxed a little.

Several white lines of water appeared at the edge of his vision. He scratched his head and turned the fixed telescope.

"What?" he muttered.

Chapter 684: NAVY Express and Japan TA-D-BIN

(Update)

During the war, the appearance of many fighter planes was full of surprises, strangeness and incredibleness.

The V-4 class submarine Nautilus, which was originally intended for transport missions, happened to spot the aircraft carrier Hiyoko as it approached Japan.

The latter had a snail speed of less than 10 knots due to the boiler explosion, which made this huge

Large submarines were able to launch torpedoes from outside the escorting Japanese coast defense ships.

Meanwhile, the American torpedo fuses, which had always been ineffective in the early stages of the war, finally worked for a while this time - the magnetic fuses of the MK14 torpedoes that hit one out of four salvos did not activate prematurely, the depth setting device did not have too large an error, and the fragile contact fuses also detonated the torpedo heads on time, successfully making a valid hit (three more were missed).

Fortunately, in order to prevent the boiler from exploding again, the damage control team of the Eagle was still on standby at all times. In addition, the ship was very close to the mainland at this time, and the tugboat that came to pick it up had already left the port. The Eagle was able to successfully stop the leak after a 3-degree roll, while draining water and crawling back.

However, this torpedo, launched within the absolute defense zone, still left the Flying Eagle and the escorting coastal defense ships completely bewildered. After a while, they finally rushed towards the direction of the torpedo and dropped depth charges in an attempt to counter the submarine attack. However, by then, the Argonaut, having completed its surprise attack, had already taken advantage of the falling night to dive into the water and escape.

The joy of successfully "severely damaging" an aircraft carrier added a good start to the second half of the Argonaut's journey and also gave the crew more topics to talk about.

Although they knew that torpedo was unlikely to sink a flattop, this act of venting their frustration was the perfect spice in the otherwise dull voyage. However, in the end, everyone became a typical Xianglin Sao, with even the mechanics, who weren't involved in the battle, being able to describe the entire process of a submarine diving, measuring parameters, and launching a torpedo.

In the next ten days, they successfully crossed the "island chain" southwest of Japan, entered the Yellow Sea, and sailed towards Shandong Province.

Because the only two Japanese strongholds left in the entire Jiaodong Peninsula were Jiaoao and Yantai, the Japanese army was no longer able to maintain sea and air patrols there. So when it entered about 50 nautical miles from the coastline, the Nautilus released a radio beacon according to a pre-made plan, breaking the radio silence: she sent a telegram using a special code.

"Today the sky is clear and the waves are high."

Soon, within ten minutes, she received a reply: "The D flag is flying on the bridge."

Everyone on board immediately felt relieved. As it was already dark, the Argonaut was able to surface. The observer on the bridge climbed out of the hull and used a sextant to reconfirm his position. He then had the deck gunners take their positions and began to observe the sea level through telescopes in the dark night.

"Josis, how do you think we should distinguish between Chinese and Japanese?" The crucial moment was approaching, and someone finally began to get nervous. "What if the one who comes is Japanese?"

"That's easy. The Japanese all have mustaches and are shorter than the Chinese. They all wear wooden slippers, and their big toes are wide apart." Another sailor shook his head, reciting strange stereotypes. "Anyway, the Chinese are our allies now, and the Japanese are calling for our destruction, hoping to eat us!"

About an hour later, a little light appeared on the sea horizon.

It flickered rhythmically, like a beacon in the darkness, a campfire in the jungle, bringing a touch of warmth and the unknown. At 6:00 a.m., the deck gunners, following instructions, began to train their guns on the unknown target, maintaining the necessary vigilance. The signalman on the command mast narrowed his eyes, deciphering the enemy's light signals.

"What is the capital of Illinois?"

"Excellent, it's a Chinese ship!" Commander Stephen George Bachet, also holding a telescope, immediately ordered, "Send the signal as ordered!" The signalman quickly grabbed the signal light grid switch and began to send the response light signal:

“Chicago!”

The Eighth Route Army's support ship was not large, it was a "Fellmire" gunboat and two "MTB" torpedo boats, which were fully armed (with torpedoes) for the first time in a long time.

They belonged to the newly formed Lu Province Squadron of the Eighth Route Army Navy, which was stationed in Aden.