Chapter 387: Chapter 40 Mobilization_2
Through this method of financing, Ned Smith mobilized money from the hands of common folk—craftsmen, merchants, maids—into war funds.
Through this method of financing, Ned Smith turned the skirmish between a handful of people into the war of another handful of people against the Republic of Palatu.
No one wanted to serve without pay, but everyone who bought war bonds voluntarily contributed to the war effort.
“Wait, what if we lose the war? Wouldn’t the bonds become worthless?” Winters asked the old soothsayer with a furrowed brow.
“Simple, just don’t lose,” Brother Reed chuckled, “Don’t forget, that’s Ned Smith! The iron man who never loses a battle!”
After a year of war, the royalists were purged, and the Herders fled in disarray. The Republic of Palatu was officially established and became the third member state of the Senas Alliance.
All bonds issued during the war were redeemed at their face value, and Ned Smith took down the sign for the “Special War Bond Exchange” and returned to The Federated Provinces.
He received news that Emperor Richard IV was about to lead a campaign in person.
This time, the emperor swore to crush the rebels thoroughly.
“This is mobilization, the ability of a country to invest resources into a war,” the old monk said slowly, “Nations at war are like two clumsy drunks wrestling. Even the strongest man, if he can only muster a fraction of his strength, will be overthrown by a weaker man who can harness half of his strength.”
Winters pricked up his ears to listen.
“The crudest form of mobilization is the conscription of manpower; military service, labor service, your militia are examples of this; a more sophisticated form of mobilization is the allocation of money—you have money, you have people; that’s what Ned Smith does, and so does taxation; and beyond that? I don’t know. Perhaps it’s about going all out, pouring all resources into the war, forging the entire nation into a weapon.”
“How do you forge it?”
“If you want to forge the entire nation into a weapon, you need a united will. Hmph, the human heart?” The old monk scoffed with a sneer, “The human heart is the most unpredictable thing in the world, I really can’t imagine how to control it.”
Hearing this, Winters couldn’t help but be sarcastic, “The people in the caravan almost worship you as a living saint, and you still don’t know how to control the human heart?”
“Things of life and death, you wouldn’t learn if I taught you,” the old monk knocked hard on Winters’ head, “If you had the skill of Ned Smith, you’d be invincible in battle.”
Crossing the surging Border River via the Floating Bridge left no further road to speak of beneath one’s feet.
All around was a vast expanse, with only the faint tracks of wagon wheels guiding the way across the expansive plains.
The horses, frothing at the mouth, struggled forward; militiamen armed with muskets and spears walked alongside, occasionally helping to lift wheels mired in the mud.
More than two hundred wagons meandered across the wilderness, inadvertently forming a column over two kilometers long.
Those ahead often only had to crest a hill or round a mound of earth to disappear from the view of those behind.
Winters patrolled back and forth, ensuring the order of the march. Any malfunctioning wagons were swiftly dragged out of line, waiting for Lieutenant Bard to come to the rescue as rearguard.
Once across the Border River, it was as if they had legally left the Republic of Palatu, and everyone was somewhat tense.
Fortunately, the journey was free of surprises, save for a wagon that lost a rear wheel.
The tension quickly dissipated, replaced by fatigue.
Marching was an exceedingly monotonous labor, essentially a continuous walk. Moreover, the colonel strictly forbade his men from placing weapons or miscellaneous items on the large wagons.
The militiamen, carrying thirty to forty pounds on their backs, trudged through the wilderness thinking only of rest.
Colonel Jeska strictly controlled the pace of the march. The hourglass was turned twice—about an hour—before the troops could take a brief respite.
They marched until noon when the colonel finally ordered the bugle call for an extended rest.
The “buffer zone” between the Hurd Tribes and Paratu has existed from ancient times.
For hundreds of years, they alternated between war and peace: during disasters, the Herders would raid Paratu for food, and when Paratu was strong, they would mobilize troops to raid the Hurd Tribes, capturing livestock and slaves.
Historian Bonnie Cefiel described it this way, “The people of Paratu are essentially Herders who have adopted agriculture and accepted public teaching. Even in the eyes of the uneducated mountain people of Monta, the people of Paratu are too barbaric.”
Neither the Herders wanted to graze near Paratu nor did the people of Paratu dare to settle near the Hurd Tribes, which naturally resulted in a lawless zone.
This was formalized thirty years ago when Marshal Ned signed a treaty with the three great Hurd Tribes.
It was formally stipulated that “within these two hundred miles, Paratu People shall not cultivate, Herders shall not herd,” thus giving the buffer zone a formal legal basis.
According to Ned Smith’s concept, maintaining distance might prevent military conflicts to the greatest extent possible.
But reality was the complete opposite of his expectations.
[Note: In the year 526 of the Empire, the Butcher Alion was defeated and died in battle. The following year, a civil war erupted within the Duke of Palatu’s domain. The royalists and republicans killed each other. The Hurd Khan “Xiban-Juye” seized the opportunity to invade from the east. Ned Smith led the Allied Army and smashed their forces, killing Khan Juye in battle. After that, the Hurd Tribes fell into decline.]
“No wonder he chose to deploy troops in winter!” A distant voice came, “This wretched land is somewhat passable only in winter. In spring and summer, if you encounter rain, the land will definitely be mired in mud and the wagons won’t be able to move at all.”
Before seeing the speaker, the voice was recognizable—it was Lieutenant Andrea Chelini. Lieutenant Chelini was currently recognized as the loudest voice within Colonel Jeska’s unit.