Chapter 1325 Orchard Loading and Unloading Dock
The topic then shifted back to equipment.
"Damn it, comparing yourself to others is just plain frustrating."
An old soldier who had been silently cleaning his gun suddenly spoke up. His name was Sun Jianguo, and he was the oldest in the squad.
"Our brigade may not be short of ammunition, but we haven't even received all the basic equipment yet. They keep saying they'll send it, but nothing ever comes out. They even say there's a lack of production capacity!"
"Look at them, the things hanging on their vests look like Christmas trees. This war..."
Sun Jianguo's words resonated with many. Although the Yezhou Infantry Brigade had a distinguished record of military achievements, it was, after all, a post-apocalyptic war zone that had been reorganized from survivors, and its inherent weaknesses were a fatal flaw.
It's good enough if everyone has a decent rifle and enough bullets; don't even think about advanced individual equipment, communication devices, or night vision equipment.
Often, they rely on their flesh and blood and their indomitable will to bridge the firepower gap between themselves and the mutants.
"I heard that a single infantry squad in their combined arms brigade has more firepower than an entire platoon of ours," Hou Xin, nicknamed "Monkey," added sourly.
Zhang Zhiwei didn't reply, but just watched silently.
He watched as the soldiers of the 6th Army disembarked and lined up, their brand-new military boots making a rhythmic sound as they stepped onto the dock.
Then he looked at his combat boots, which were almost worn through and covered in mud, and at the numb, envious, or resentful looks in the eyes of his brothers around him.
A complex emotion churned within him.
"Alright, everyone, perk up! Don't look like wilted eggplants!" Zhang Zhiwei finally waved his hand, dispelling some of the dejected atmosphere:
"Good equipment has its own tactics, and we have ours! We still have to take down this tough nut of Chongqing ourselves, bit by bit! Instead of envying others, we should kill more zombies and make more contributions. Maybe one day, we can get our hands on those good gadgets too!"
His words had some effect, and the atmosphere in the class became a little more lively. But the invisible contrast and disparity had already been deeply etched into everyone's hearts.
On the platform, some soldiers from the 6th Army stood guard beside the train, also looking towards the dock.
Their gaze swept over the dusty, mud-covered soldiers of the Night State Brigade, their eyes calm, perhaps with a hint of curiosity, but more so with a sense of detachment befitting "passersby."
Facing those gazes, Zhang Zhiwei tried his best to straighten his somewhat hunched back, but he was still not entirely satisfied...
A chilly river breeze swept across the docks, stirring up dust and a faint smell of gunpowder. Two armies, one gleaming and ready to march to a new battlefield, the other wounded and holding fast to its old position, met briefly and silently on the banks of the Yangtze River in this desolate era.
.......
While the port was experiencing various emotions due to the arrival of the train, inside the Sixth Army's command carriage, the lights were adjusted to a soft, warm yellow. The carriage wasn't particularly spacious, but its layout was compact and efficient.
On one side is a fixed combat command area, embedded with several LCD screens flashing different situational diagrams, and the indicator lights of communication equipment are on and off.
On the other side is the living and rest area, with several foldable military tables and chairs, and four narrow single berths arranged by the window, like a soft sleeper compartment on a train.
The air was filled with a mixture of documents, tobacco, tea, and a lingering, oppressive atmosphere typical of long, enclosed spaces.
As soon as the train came to a stop, Lieutenant General Han Feng, commander of the 6th Army Group, suddenly opened his eyes from the lower berth by the window.
His long military career kept him highly alert even in deep sleep; the train's slowing down and eventual stop acted like an invisible alarm clock.
He didn't act immediately, but lay quietly for two seconds, allowing his consciousness to quickly break free from the chaotic exhaustion and return to the cold, clear reality.
He subconsciously raised his hand and glanced at the old-fashioned, heavy but accurate military mechanical watch on his wrist.
The luminous hands on the dial clearly point to 19:36.
'Twenty-eight hours, five hours slower than the most conservative estimate in the plan!' Thinking of this, Han Feng frowned almost imperceptibly.
Due to the ongoing Chongqing-Chongqing railway construction campaign, the entire Chongqing-Chengdu railway line is operating at overcapacity, with a constant stream of trains. Even with the highest dispatch priority, congestion is inevitable.
In particular, the level of maintenance after the apocalypse could not compare with that of the golden age, and minor problems with the rails and signaling systems continued to occur.
In particular, we encountered a minor derailment of a train ahead of us on the way yesterday...
Fortunately, no one was seriously injured and the equipment loss was minimal, but time, the most precious thing on the battlefield, was mercilessly devoured for five hours.
After quickly sorting things out in his mind, Han Feng didn't delay any longer. He nimbly pushed himself up and sat up on the small single bed, which was about one meter wide.
He casually picked up his lieutenant general's uniform from the chair on the bedside table, put it on, and stood up. His movement immediately startled a few people at the other end of the carriage who were discussing in hushed tones in front of an open map of the Yangtze River's middle and lower reaches and a map of the war zone around Nanjing.
"General Han, you're awake?" Major General Xiang Qidong, the army group's chief of staff, immediately got up and walked over quickly.
Although Han Feng's current position is only army group commander, he still habitually addresses his old subordinate, who has followed him for a long time, as "General Han".
Xiang Qidong held a marker in his hand, his face showing signs of fatigue from the long journey, but his eyes were clear, indicating that he had been working all along.
"We were just about to wake you up when we arrived at the Chongqing transit terminal, about five hours later than planned."
"The Chongqing Military Region has been notified that the dockside support and the command personnel of the river transport fleet are already waiting on the platform. They are doing their utmost to ensure that our troops can quickly complete the transit, resupply, and transfer!"
Upon hearing this, Han Feng nodded, roughly smoothing his hair and collar with his hands, and asked in a deep voice, "Where are our people? Has the transfer plan been adjusted due to the delay?"
"The advance detachment of the 61st Combined Arms Brigade has completed unloading preparations for the train. Because they have been resting along the way, the officers and soldiers are in good condition and are on standby!"
"According to the report, the 62nd Combined Arms Brigade, which is the follow-up echelon, has completed loading at the Xishui Railway Hub and is on its way. As for the rest of the army group, they are expected to arrive in Chongqing within a week to complete the transit."
Upon hearing this progress, Han Feng, commander of the 6th Group Army, frowned slightly, but quickly relaxed.
Given the current state of the Chongqing-Chengdu railway line, it's impossible to go any faster; any faster and problems are likely to arise. Moreover, the mission to Nanjing isn't particularly urgent, so going slower is acceptable.
Thinking of all this, Han Feng nodded slightly, acknowledging the progress.
Seeing this, Xiang Qidong changed the subject and continued his report:
"On the river transport side, a large mixed fleet and escort force directly under the theater navy are already on standby at the dock. The first echelon includes two 5,000-ton roll-on/roll-off ships, four 3,000-ton flatbed barges, and enough tugboats and armed escort boats."
"The first batch of equipment loading operations, originally scheduled to begin at 20 p.m. tonight, has been postponed to 21 p.m. due to our delays."
"Our goal is to complete the resupply and transfer in Chongqing as soon as possible, and then sail down the Yangtze River to the Nanjing Military Region."
Listening, Han Feng casually took the steaming enamel teacup handed to him by the staff officer, walked to the porthole, and lifted a corner of the heavy dark green curtain.
At this moment, night has just fallen outside the window, the dock is brightly lit, and the beams of searchlights cut through the thin mist on the river.
Not far away, you can see a huge ship quietly moored at a reinforced berth. Further away, some small work vehicles and dock dispatchers wearing blue helmets are busy at work.
However, in stark contrast to this busy and orderly transit scene, the air was filled with the strong smell of gunpowder and fish from the direction of the main urban area of Chongqing in the north, and patches of orange-red light flashed across the night sky in the distance.
Even from a great distance and amidst the sound of the river, the dull rumbling sound could still be clearly felt.












