Canteen System Assistance Notes

This thing is easy to breed and easy to handle. All you need to pay attention to when breeding it is the temperature, humidity, and thorough disinfection of the feed. During the harvest period, you only need to remove debris from the insects and clean them, and then you can process them into nutritious and delicious shrimp sauce or protein powder.

Honestly, this food has a very high nutritional value, tastes great, and is very easy to produce and process. So why did it become one of the most infamous foods during World War II? The reason is probably: wriggle wriggle wriggle…

Simply mix protein powder made from freeze-dried and ground mealworms with flour, dried meat powder, and seasonings in the right proportions, dry-press, and package, and you have "Shanwei" brand protein biscuits. On the day the new product was released, uninformed tasters sampled the bright wheat-yellow biscuits and gave them positive reviews. Many commented on their fresh, fragrant taste and lingering aftertaste. Some, even without knowing the ingredients, praised them for their "soothing nutty aroma."

Driven by an inexplicable motivation, the comrades in charge of the Overseas Bureau's assets, in collaboration with Hammer, submitted Shanwei Protein Biscuits to the Ordnance Bureau for selection for its 1941 military rations. Surprisingly, after learning the ingredients of the protein biscuits, the Ordnance Bureau officials showed little resistance. Instead, they expressed a keen interest in this low-cost product, which was rich in protein and carbohydrates, vitamins, and minerals.

In the comments of the Ordnance Bureau's winning bid, "Shanwei" protein biscuits are delicious whether you grind them with water, break off a piece and cook it into paste, or even add it to meals as a seasoning.

The seasonings are very competent; the process of drying, pressing, and packaging is very good.

It also saves the consumption of precious tin products and is easy to store on the battlefield; the regular shape of the long square also makes it easy to put it into wooden boxes for transportation - in short, this thing is the best choice as military rations.

The Ordnance Department even ordered the Shanwei factory to reduce the amount of spices used in its cookies to reduce costs and make them less delicious. The reasoning was that if they were too delicious, livestock would eat them as snacks. Indeed, history is still stubbornly terrifying in some places.

—―-——-―-

Thanks to the Ordnance Department's efficient management of livestock, "Shanwei" brand protein powder, originally intended as a food additive, eventually became a strategic product, incorporated into the "Wartime Special Supply Company" system. During the protracted Second World War, this insect-farmed protein biscuit product, patented by the Shanwei factory, quickly spread, produced in numerous food processing plants across the United States, and shipped to the Allied camp aboard ships like the Liberty and Victory.

This not only brought lasting cash benefits to "Shanwei", but also brought praise from many mainstream media and more "universal gestures of international friendship" from World War II veterans.

Although it tastes good and is nutritious, after learning that its raw material is dense and wriggling caterpillars, almost all the army veterans will throw this stuff to the group of milky recruits, and call it "taking care of the newcomers." And those recruits who enjoy eating and are deeply moved by the comradeship of the veterans will pass on the traditional virtue of "humility" to future recruits after continuous nausea and vomiting one day.

Among them, the most miserable were the Marines: due to the special supply environment, the gentlemen who drove ships and carrier-based aircraft would not eat this kind of "worm meat". Fighting against the Japanese army in the Pacific, they could only eat muddy water in the trenches, Spam that had no meat taste, and biscuits made of strange ingredients.

So much so that there was a jingle that was shouted out by the angry Maruns:

"Eggs Benedict, Philadelphia Pale Ale."

"The invincible Ma Runbing only has worm biscuits."

"The battleship is responsible for flying, and the plane is responsible for breaking down."

"Oh oh oh oh oh, we are responsible for die."

Chapter 166 What to Eat Today? (Part 2)

Apart from the Gulf of Aden, the United States and Canada, the two South Pacific countries, Australia and New Zealand, are the only places in the world with a surplus in grain production.

Both countries are major grain producers, with Australia being particularly prolific: despite the thousands of miles of desert stretching across its central region, its livestock and wheat farming industries are highly developed. In 1940, Japan even used its depleted foreign exchange reserves to purchase a shipment of wheat from Australia to finance its war.

Liu Helian also talked about utilizing its production capacity. After all, who would want to eat insects if they could make canned beef and mutton?

As a result, Pandaria's expansion into Australia unexpectedly encountered resistance. Even though Xiao Liu was hailing himself as a wealthy American businessman and honorary Commonwealth citizen, this mining-addicted Australia persisted in its intense discrimination based on skin color, setting numerous obstacles and restrictions for this "yellow-skinned" individual: You can buy things, but if you want to invest and build a factory, dream on!

Fuck you, even the British are not as disgusting as you.

After berating this oversized island nation, the comrades from the Overseas Affairs Bureau set their sights on New Zealand, deep in the South Pacific. The livestock industry there was equally developed. While not as large as Australia's, it could easily support Pandaria's production. Furthermore, it was one of the main logistical bases for the US South Pacific Front during World War II, ensuring a strong market for its canned goods.

As a fellow island nation, New Zealand is arguably one of the most friendly Western nations towards China. Before 1941, it even allowed Chinese citizens with their families to obtain naturalization and seek asylum. It also boasts "old friends" like Rewi Alley. Liu Helian, which developed the Majiagang Oilfield, faced few restrictions. Its subsidiary brand, "8th Avenue," quickly streamlined its production line and began production. Its braised beef, four-happiness meatballs, and spray-dried sweet milk powder have been well-received and sold well since their launch.

However, as the production capacity of "Eight Street" brand canned food and milk powder gradually expanded, a strange problem emerged. As the number of cattle destined for slaughter gradually increased, so did the amount of discarded offal, carcasses, and other items at the factory. Every day, the factory had to haul away dozens of truckloads of scraps.

While this was a perfectly normal waste in the food industry, and the factory had contacted downstream companies to purchase and process the waste, the hard-working, domestically-selected staff couldn't bear to see so much go to waste. The locals at the factory couldn't consume all that much either, so they put their ingenuity to work, trying to develop new products and utilize these "leftovers" on a large scale.

Since then, the "Eighth Street" brand liver paste canned food, known as the "devil's canned food", has emerged.

Despite the stereotype that "foreigners don't eat offal," there are actually quite a few dishes in Europe and America that use animal offal as an ingredient. After temporarily setting aside the more difficult-to-develop bone marrow extract, several officials chose liver as the primary ingredient. They personally took the factory's leftover beef and chicken livers, as well as purchased pork livers, and after cleaning, bleeding, and pounding them, mixed them with a certain proportion of ground meat and seasoned them.

The freshly baked mixed liver pâté had an enticing aroma. Several staff members asked the tasters to try this new product. They felt that although it did not have the wonderful taste of authentic "Maiguo foie gras pâté", it still retained the smooth and mellow taste experience of liver food.

By this time, the Pacific War had already broken out. Because of the precedent of its "worm biscuits," Pandaria, already part of the World War III Special Supply Company system, had caught the attention of the Ordnance Bureau. This not-yet-fully-developed new product was quickly sent to Hawaii for inspection by the US military. Experts dispatched by the Ordnance Bureau determined that the product, rich in iron, vitamins, and protein, would be beneficial for strengthening the body and accelerating recovery for the wounded, and recommended its purchase as a nutritious food for the wounded.

As a result, the Navy, which had just received this batch of canned food, gave two extremely extreme evaluations.

Most fans believe that canned liver paste has an outstanding taste and an attractive aroma, and is a high-end delicacy that can be served on the officers' table after cooking and seasoning; while those who hate it complain that it is stinky, difficult to swallow, and extremely disgusting. They believe that the Navy can allow this stuff to flow into the supply system, and everyone who experiences it should be shot.

These two evaluations are so extreme, one is heaven and the other is hell. The difference is so obvious that even two different warships and two different organizational units can give completely opposite evaluations. It even makes people feel that the tasting experience of this thing is controlled by a switch.

What's going on?

The "Eighth Street" factory immediately dispatched investigators aboard a naval transport ship to investigate. Upon arrival, the situation became immediately clear—the cans that had received negative reviews had a strong odor of rotten eggs. The odor from the opened cans, sealed in boxes, was so strong it could have made a person faint.

Some of the first batch of canned liver paste was bumped and leaked during the long and tiring sea transport: in the salty, humid and high-temperature shipping warehouse, the mixed liver paste with extremely high protein content began to ferment under the action of bacteria, and produced sufficient amounts of bio-acids and hydrogen sulfide, which erupted the moment the chef opened the seal.

Please imagine the scene of the herring can being opened and the juice splashing all over you.

Logically, such a defect would indicate a product development failure requiring improvement. However, after research, the "Eight Street" factory proposed a solution to improve the existing product by reinforcing the packaging and adopting a "safety button" lid. This would make the cans more resistant to impact and, if fermentation or spoilage occurs, the safety button on the can would pop up, allowing consumers to easily detect it.

However, the Ordnance Department was completely unconcerned: some shipping damage to canned goods was normal, and if all subsequent products were modified, the cost would be very high. It would be more economical to just throw away the spoiled products. Even more ridiculous was that these fermented cans were still edible to a large extent!

Since it doesn't make you sick, what does it matter if it makes a few people stink? That's what the old man said.

Finally, the Eighth Street Factory could only suppress its strange sense of responsibility and began to produce these canned by-products using scraps step by step. These "canned goods harbouring evil" also gradually spread to the South Pacific islands and Southeast Asia as the US military's campaign in the South Pacific progressed. They were delivered to the tables of the Army, Navy and Marines, and some even appeared in the hands of hungry Japanese troops.

The question of whether the knife would yield a smooth, delicious liver paste or a pungent stink bomb—the lottery-like experience of opening the cans of "Eighth Street" liver paste has earned the ire of many who have encountered it. Wise veterans would always send the unlucky new recruits to open the flat cans, painted with a broad street. Once the recruits had fallen for it, they would solemnly don their gas masks and, fully geared up, handle the cans as if they were dealing with a real gas bomb.

There were even some brutal scenes in some fierce battles on South Pacific islands where American soldiers used fermented damaged cans as grenades and threw them into Japanese tunnels.

Ah, perhaps this is part of the war.

Chapter 167: Driver Yu Shifu

Two iron bars were laid on the ground, and two mini overhead cranes, built on iron frames, were placed across them. Two men shouted and pulled the iron ropes of the wire hoists together to hoist a large object on the ground. "Great! High enough!"

The overhead crane's beam just barely spanned a Ford truck. Driver Yu Weifu, standing in the truck bed, blew a whistle, and the two men pulling the cables stopped. Instead, they pushed the frame along the rails, hoisting the cargo onto the truck. The pulleys creaked as they lifted the half-ton forged steel mold, wrapped in straw and cotton wool, and slowly lowered it onto the truck bed.

The rear bed of the 3-ton truck had visibly sunk, but there was clearly still plenty of room, so several workers pushed the overhead crane back and continued loading the truck.

To some extent, Xinjiang in 1939 was not under the jurisdiction of the Nationalist government. It was the Soviet sphere of influence. From customs to military to economy, Soviet influence was everywhere. As a sovereign state, this was actually a very shameful thing.

However, objectively speaking, Sheng Zhenjia, the "wolf-breeding pig" who still listened to the Soviet Union, made some contributions to the War of Resistance at this time: under his leadership, the people of Xinjiang contributed money and manpower, and with enthusiasm and dedication, extended the Gansu-Xinjiang Highway from Xingxing Gorge to Dihua City, officially opening up the "Northwest Passage" through the Hexi Corridor.

This highway transported a lot of Soviet aid in the early days of the War of Resistance Against Japanese Aggression. After Soviet sea freighters began to be intercepted by Italy, this became the only way for preserved fruits to obtain Soviet aid. After the Eighth Route Army obtained the right of way, many freight teams belonging to the Eighth Route Army also ran along this highway.

And Brother Yu is one of them.

As a long-time driver, Mr. Yu was somewhat well-known among the drivers in Northwest China. He had driven for the explorer "Mr. Sven" a few years ago, taking a group of professors and students from domestic universities with the foreigner on an archaeological expedition.

This incident brought him a lot of extra money and improved his life a lot; however, after learning that "Mr. Sven" had come to the country for exploration a long time ago and had looted a batch of precious cultural relics during the earlier expedition, Brother Yu suddenly felt uncomfortable and no longer planned to drive for Mr. Shi's "Explorer".

"Later, I got a job driving for another Swede in Gaojing City. Oh! Effie Hill! He was much more pleasant to the eye than Mr. Sven. He mostly drove north, not west, and his cargo was all food, clothing, and daily necessities for the common people. I drove around the Eighth Route Army so many times that I became quite familiar with him."

Brother Yu reached out, closed the tailgate, and then took off a bunch of ropes. The loading and unloading of the vehicles was complete, and the various items in the cargo bed needed to be covered with tarpaulin. He waved his hand, signaling his co-driver to carry the tarpaulin over.

"Master Yu, what does this Swedish guy look like?"

The young worker carrying the tarpaulin is my co-pilot, and can be considered my apprentice, a new driver. He is not young, almost 20 years old, but why is he still so noisy, like a little kid?

Master Yu scolded him mentally, but didn't say anything harsh: "He's just like those Russian drivers, with brown hair, blue eyes, a high nose, and deep eye sockets. But he's quite capable, and speaks decent Guanzhong Mandarin. You know, any car dealership that dares to run a red business in the north is always a monkey in its operation."

"A few years ago, I secretly drove a group of foreign reporters to interview the Eighth Route Army. This Swede had already arranged all the connections with the Nationalist Army guarding the route, and even informed the Eighth Route Army in advance to let them pick you up. Hey, you see, if you had half the intelligence that Swede had, your father wouldn't treat you like an idiot and keep you locked up at home all day."

The laborer's surname was Wang, and his name was Wang Shunfeng. It was said that his father locked him in the yard and wouldn't let him out unless he was working in the fields. This time, he was allowed to learn to drive, which was considered a special favor—this made the boy, though in his twenties, still act like a child—but he wasn't a bad person, willing to learn and endure hardship.

Master Yu watched Wang Shunfeng nimbly climb onto the back of the truck, tugging at the dark green tarpaulin to securely cover all the steel components. He then threw the rope overboard. He called out to Wang Shunfeng to grab the rope from the other side of the truck, and together they tied it to a hook on the side, securing it securely.

These days, as a master, I still have to do things myself. Hey... Working for the Eighth Route Army is good in every way except this: both the master and the apprentice have to work... However, it seems that the Eighth Route Army soldiers also work.

Glancing at the other cars in the convoy, Yu Weiguo confirmed without surprise that those Eighth Route Army soldiers in sand-colored "jeans", oh no, they were from the "Northwest Passage Highway Security Corps", regardless of whether they were officers or soldiers, were all rolling up their sleeves to help the local laborers in Dihua load the cars, and even the group of bearded Russian soldiers came to help - the only one who was not working was probably the Russian officer in high leather boots.

"Is it tied firmly?"

"It's strong!" the little fellow replied with a smile, wiping his sweat. "It's very strong! It's enough to tie up the boat during the cold weather!"

"How can this be compared? When the time comes and the wind blows, don't let the tarpaulin fly away!" Master Yu said in fear, "When the time comes, you have to chase me for ten miles to get this cloth back! Such a good piece of cloth, even if you sell yourself, you can't buy many pieces!" After saying this, Wang Shunfeng's smile almost froze, and he showed his lack of confidence again. He scratched his head, wanting to say something but stopping himself, and finally lowered his head to repeatedly check the rope buckles and knots he tied. That cautious expression finally allowed Master Yu Weiguo to save a little situation and feel a little satisfied.

Hey, at the end of the day, I’m still the master.

Just when the old man was feeling proud, a hand reached out from behind and patted him hard on the shoulder.

"It's not easy for him to leave home and learn to drive. His stubborn father finally had a son, and it's not easy for him to listen to the work team! Brother Yu, please don't scare him to tears." "Hey, Chief Qiu, you're here!"

The man, carrying two rifles, one long and one short, and wearing sand-colored denim uniform, styled after the Eighth Route Army, was officially the team leader. Shaking his head and refusing Mr. Yu's cigarette, he casually replied, "What chief? I'm just the team leader now. Just call me Old Qiu. I came here to tell you something. Our team is leaving soon. How are your preparations going?"

"Oh, I'm fine, don't worry..."

"Captain Qiu! Hello!"

Seeing Lao Qiu in military uniform, Wang Shunfeng on the truck bed became excited, and his previous caution instantly turned cloudy and clear, disappearing without a trace. Seeing Lao Qiu nodded at him,

He did not bother to check how the rope was tied, and jumped out of the car.

He came down and gave a rather crooked military salute: "Um... Hello, Commander!"

puff.......

Seeing this scene, Lao Qiu couldn't help but smile bitterly and shook his head. This guy is really still a child. He waved and said to the master in a low voice: "Ahem, what I just said, well... As long as he doesn't scare him to tears, you can train him as much as you want!"

Chapter 168: A Journey of a Thousand Miles Begins with a Lost Book

Coming out of the engine compartment of the Ford truck, Master Yu instructed Wang Shunfeng to hold the throttle. He then quickly opened the door and got back into the driver's seat. He stepped on the accelerator several times.

He thought the oil was almost full, so he turned the starter.

The Ford's motor made a creaking sound, and then, accompanied by an even more violent roar, a puff of smoke burst out of the exhaust pipe.

The car finally started successfully.

"Go! Go! Go!"

Wang Shunfeng was like a child who was always on the move. Having already followed the car for a while, he was no longer frightened by the noise of the car starting up and was no longer "worshiping the car god". Instead, he began to like this big iron god that could carry thousands of pounds of stuff. You know, the sheepskin rafts that his father had used for years on the Yellow River were considered amazing if they could carry a thousand pounds. Now, your son can pull six thousand pounds of cargo! He's really better than you!

Jumping up to the passenger seat, Wang Shunfeng happily but cautiously closed the door and settled his butt firmly on the canvas seat. He straightened his upper body and shouted in a reporting tone: "Master Yu, I'm ready!"

Farther away, more GAZs and Fords had gathered, forming a line that seemed to stretch to the horizon. "You little monkey! I gave you three pieces of fruit, and you dare to stick your butt up to the sky—hold on tight!"

Yu Weifu didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He took hold of the steering wheel, engaged the clutch, and slowly stepped on the accelerator. He stuck his head out of the window and yelled, "Let's go! Let's get to work!"

"Davarish, Wurebala!" (Comrade, it's time to set off!)

Most drivers who drive on the Northwest Passage can speak a few words of Russian with a bit of archaic accent.

After all, on this road that stretches for nearly 5.0 miles, more than one-third of the Soviet-supported drivers were working for the domestic war of resistance. They drove Soviet-made GAZ trucks, shuttling back and forth, transporting Soviet aid to China and materials used to repay domestic loans, making real contributions to the domestic war of resistance.

Meanwhile, while many Soviets still roamed the corridor originally dedicated to the transportation of preserved fruit, a number of Eighth Route Army troop members had also appeared. While the driver training capacity of the border region was currently limited, and this fleet still included many Soviet drivers, the number of Chinese drivers like Master Yu was increasing month by month and year by year.

"Plitstvowaci! To Daetzdavarish!" (Hello, Chinese comrades!)

"Hello!" (Hello!)

"Comrade! Your car is number 46!" "Okay, thank you!"

The Russian outside the car window handed him a marker with the Arabic numeral "46" scrawled in red paint. Master Yu took it and stuck it into the corner of the car's windshield. He lightly stepped on the accelerator and slowly drove out of the freight yard. The sight of so many trucks arriving in a cluster was a spectacular sight. On the dry Xinjiang dirt road, the dust kicked up by the convoy was so high that it could be seen from a distance, as if a small sandstorm had been set off.

"We are the first car of the second team now, remember that."

"Oh! I see!"

Master Yu took the steering wheel and gave instructions to Wang Shunfeng in the passenger seat. "The road book we distributed a few days ago outlines the responsibilities of the lead vehicle: leading the team, clearing the way, finding water, and so on. Although the lead vehicle of the veteran captains is usually the pathfinder, the lead vehicle of the second team doesn't have to lead the entire team, but maybe it's their turn?"

Unlike the main force of preserved fruit transport, which relied on animal-drawn relays, supplemented by trucks and primarily small-scale, concentrated transport, the Eighth Route Army's transport relied primarily on trucks, organized in a more advanced "transport formation" model. The entire convoy consisted of trucks, armored vehicles, troop carriers, fuel tankers, water tankers, and support vehicles, even featuring a simple maintenance depot. It consisted of six squadrons and a command squadron.

Just like a train without tracks, more than 300 trucks stretched for hundreds of meters, connecting Dihua and the border area where Soviet aid materials arrived from east to west. Because of this organizational form, although the total number of vehicles owned by the Eighth Route Army was not as large as that of the Northwest Transportation Office of Rufu, and the manpower and material resources used were not as much, the transportation efficiency was not much inferior.

"Being the lead driver is a skill, but also a burden. Once you learn it, you'll always have to be the lead driver... Hmm? Are you listening? What are you looking for?"

This sermon was full of sincerity, a sincere admonition from the master. However, Wang Shunfeng remained silent, his head buried in his pack. Only then did Master Yu realize that the cockpit, once neatly organized and tidy, had been turned into a complete mess.

"You, you, you... you little bastard, what are you doing? Are you born in the year of the monkey?"

"Master...Master..."

Wang Shunfeng's voice changed, as if he had lost his soul. He was sweating profusely and turned his head tremblingly, like a bearing that had not been oiled for a long time.

"What happened to you yesterday? What? Did you get into trouble again?" Yu Weifu's tone darkened. Although this little guy was serious and eager to learn, this was his first time following a car, so there must have been a lot of unexpected things. "Don't be impatient, talk slowly."

"I....…"

Wang Shunfeng stammered, rubbing his hands nervously, "I can't find the road book..."

I can't find the road book. Oh, how big is it...?

Road book! Can’t find it!?

Master Yu's head buzzed, and he nearly threw the steering wheel. His long-standing driving habits helped him keep the car steady. He glared at Wang Shunfeng fiercely. "You!" He pulled a small red flag from under the seat, waved it out the window, honked the horn twice, and pulled out of the convoy.

"you!"

As soon as the car stopped, Master Yu jumped out of the driver's seat, punched open the passenger door, and pulled the man in his twenties out of the car like a chicken.

What can I say to you? A road book, a road book is such a precious thing, how could you lose it?!" He was panting angrily. "You little brat, do you know how valuable this thing is? One copy can make a car dealership live and work! Mr. Ba gave you such a valuable thing, and you just throw it away like that?!"