Chapter 83

Still have to work for a living, busy times with two shifts, sometimes three when idle.

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Fatty's gaze focused on the flower machine gun. This was a replica of the German MP18/28, the most produced submachine gun by the Nationalist Government. He had seen it in the military museum, where the description mentioned that during the Republic of China era, various factories had actually replicated over ten thousand flower machine guns.

He picked one from the twelve flower machine guns and started fiddling with it. Monkey also picked one and, fondly handling it, said to Fatty, "Sir, this is from Taiyuan. It uses the same bullets as the Mauser C96, and I saw it in General Yan's army when I was a soldier. It can mow down a whole group with one sweep."

Commander Wu had equipped his elite squad with twelve flower machine guns, each with five magazines. The gun used the same bullets as the Mauser C96 and the twenty-shot pistol. Although its effective range was not far, it was convenient for special operations. As long as there were enough magazines, the firepower was fierce. Fatty told Monkey to keep one and had his men store the rest in the warehouse.

"Have you ever been a soldier? How is your military posture and drill?" Fatty glanced at Monkey, who was fiddling with the flower machine gun.

"Sir, I'm not boasting, but military posture and drill are my strong points. Think about it, I've been a soldier for ten years and joined the army over twenty times. Every time I joined, I had to go through a month of basic drill and posture training before learning to shoot and going into battle. I may not know much else, but when it comes to drill and posture, I dare say I'm second to none," Monkey said proudly, not at all ashamed of his twenty times as a deserter.

Thick-skinned and shameless, not bad, Fatty liked it. Too serious people couldn't be his special forces.

"Alright, from now on, from 7 to 10 in the morning, you'll be responsible for training the men in military posture and drill, to make them understand the importance of following orders." Fatty took out an extra watch and handed it to Monkey, then gave him a cigarette and lit one for himself.

"What about the rest of the time?" Monkey took the cigarette. Fatty's friendly gesture made him feel a strong sense of foreboding.

"Follow me, Fatty, and I'll teach you some survival skills on the battlefield so you won't run away at the sound of gunfire, which would be embarrassing," Fatty said.

"Uh-huh," Monkey responded, his face showing nothing, but inwardly he was lamenting. Damn, this Fatty is going to kill me. Training with him will surely strip a layer of skin off me.

"Go gather the brothers, Fatty has something to say," Fatty said.

Monkey nodded and hurried out. Soon, everyone, including the cook Uncle Biao, had gathered.

"Brother-in-law, what's up?" Tiger asked when he saw Fatty.

"Nothing much, but before I go to Shanghai, there are a few things I need to arrange," Fatty said, making everyone sit down. "While I'm away, no one is to leave the mountain except for Old Four, Jia Daode, for external communication."

"But you can't be idle. The watchtower should have someone on duty every day. From 7 to 10 in the morning, follow Monkey for military posture and drill. From 10 to 12, follow Third Brother Yang Yun for shooting practice. In the afternoon, follow First Brother for physical training. Anyone who slacks off or doesn't show up will do a thousand push-ups."

The leaders of the band knew that Fatty would be going to Shanghai with the Eighth Route Army in a few days and nodded in agreement. After their last defeat, they didn't dare to provoke the Japanese without Fatty.

Fatty also had the men prepare targets and training grounds, dig pits, and prepare thick hemp ropes and other training tools.

"Fatty hopes to see these facilities built when he returns from Shanghai," Fatty said to Tiger.

"Don't worry, brother-in-law, leave it to me," Tiger promised.

They also discussed the sources of food and weapons and ammunition. With Commander Wu, they could get whatever they wanted, and they weren't afraid he wouldn't comply.

"Have the men use up all the stored bullets and switch to the Type 38. If we run out of weapons and ammunition, have Commander Wu, the traitor, supply us. Don't be afraid to waste bullets; good shooting skills come from practice."

"Right," Yang Yun nodded. In the past, they were afraid of using ammunition in battle, which made their shooting skills terrible. Now, they could ask Commander Wu for whatever they needed, and if he refused, they could send his identity proof to the Shallow Field Brigade.

The reason Fatty wanted the men to switch to the Type 38 was mainly because of its high accuracy and smaller caliber, which reduced recoil and made it easier to handle. Additionally, the Type 38 was longer than any rifle in the Nationalist Army, giving it an advantage in bayonet combat.

What about the saber? Forget it. Fatty had seen two teams of veterans, one practicing bayonet combat and the other practicing saber, and then tested the advantages of bayonets and sabers.

One-on-one, the saber lost.

One-on-two, the saber still lost, and the bayonet soldiers were only wounded.

Twenty-on-twenty, Fatty was shocked. The bayonets lost three, and the sabers were all killed.

The Type 38 also had a drawback: its small caliber meant less stopping power, which could only be compensated for by its accuracy. The U.S. hadn't started supporting Chiang Kai-shek, and Fatty's favorite M1 Garand from the Spring Arsenal was still a long way off. For now, they would use the Type 38.

Fatty had a way to increase the stopping power of the Type 38 bullets by converting them to dum-dum bullets.

However, he didn't plan to do this. The accuracy of the dum-dum bullets would be affected at distances over 100 meters, and the further the distance, the greater the deviation.

So he planned to have the men convert some pistol bullets in their spare time. The twenty-shot, flower machine gun, and Browning could all use them. Most of the time, the special forces needed accuracy within 100 meters, and long-range high-precision shooting was the job of snipers, so this distance was sufficient.

When he took out a twenty-shot dum-dum bullet he had converted, the band members gathered around curiously.

"Carve a cross on the tip of the bullet, and it will make the Japanese cry for their mothers?" Tiger asked.

"Hit the limbs, and they'll be crippled. Hit the body, and they'll be hard-pressed to survive," Fatty knew that explaining too much to these uneducated bandits was pointless; they just needed to follow the instructions.

"Sir, will this really work?" Yang Yun picked up the bullet and examined it closely, not seeing the trick.

"Uncle Biao, is there any live animal left in the kitchen? If so, bring one over," Fatty knew that if he didn't show these bandits the power of the dum-dum bullet, they would have endless questions.

"Sir, there are a few wild rabbits that haven't been cleaned yet, caught in traps. I'll bring them over right away," Uncle Biao said, beaming, as he went to the kitchen to fetch the rabbits. Finally, he had a task from his brother-in-law.

When Uncle Biao returned, he was indeed carrying a live rabbit.

Fatty had Uncle Biao hang the rabbit fifty steps away, loaded the dum-dum bullet into the twenty-shot, and fired at the rabbit. Then he had Uncle Biao bring it back for everyone to see.

When Uncle Biao returned with the wounded rabbit, everyone finally saw the damage. The rabbit's abdomen had only one bullet hole, like any other surface wound, but the dum-dum bullet had exploded a large hole in its back, shredding its internal organs, a terrifying sight.

No wonder Uncle Biao looked so regretful; a large piece of the rabbit's meat had been shredded and blown away.

Ordinarily, they couldn't cause such damage with a single shot. The men fell silent, thinking that if the Japanese were hit by such a bullet, they would be as good as dead. Their gazes towards Fatty were now filled with awe and fear.

Fortunately, their enemy wasn't this Fatty. Being his enemy would be truly terrifying.