A week of preparation for a battle involving 200,000 people is actually very tight in terms of time;
But considering that the Japanese strongholds were originally heavily surrounded by the Eighth Route Army divisions, and there were Eighth Route Army bases outside the city, the Japanese almost did not dare to leave the city and could attack them at any time.
Nirvana, Wangcun, gong sounds
"Fellow fellows, the Eighth Route Army is about to go to war and needs to produce a large amount of military rations. They all come to the village committee to divide the tasks. If they arrive late, they will be gone!"
Wang Xiangxiang, the women's director and militia platoon leader, shouted at the top of her lungs, her voice cheerful as if she was giving welfare to everyone.
"Folks, the village committee is gathering, the Eighth Route Army is going to fight the Japanese!"
"Fellow folks..."
In Wangjia Village, Wang Xiangxiang's gong was an order, and the whole village became lively. Figures in a hurry gathered at the village committee, like a trickle of water.
After the fellow villagers arrived, Wang Xiangxiang began to assign tasks. This task was very simple, which was to bake 50,000 flatbreads and fry 100,000 kilograms of fried noodles;
Food is collective, and it is public food that is turned in every year. The Eighth Route Army does not have a specialized logistics unit. It usually relies on its own efforts, serving as combatants, producers, and logistics personnel.
During the war, the main force of the Eighth Route Army was only responsible for fighting, and the logistics were all taken over by the fellow villagers in the base area.
This was not the first time that Wangjiacun had taken on this task. Wang Xiangxiang had also accumulated enough experience and quickly assigned the task. Xiangxiang's mother happily went home to work with the half bag of grain noodles she received. .
Soon, every household in Wangjia Village was filled with smoke from cooking, and the aroma of noodles filled the whole village.
Dr. Wang took a greedy breath of the scent of wheat, which still tasted like Xi. He said to his eldest son, Wang Zimo:
"Zimo, do you smell anything?"
Wang Zimo sniffed and replied:
"Smells like wheat! It's all multigrain noodles!"
Wang Bodao continued to ask expressionlessly.
Wang Zimo took another deep breath. The smell of multigrain noodles was still there. It was fragrant, but it was too thick. The Wang family would not eat it. They only ate fine white noodles.
Wang Zimo looked at Director Wang Bo in confusion. Wang Bo sighed, shook his head and said:
"The entire Wangjia Village is scrambling to make military rations for the Eighth Route Army. After finishing, they have to push carts to the front line. That little girl from the Wang family organized it;
It was the same in the past. No matter how many kilograms of grain you received, the grain you sent back would only be a lot more. What was this?
This is the will of the people!
Since ancient times, those who win the hearts of the people win the world! "
Under Dr. Wang’s prompting, Wang Zimo seemed to have touched upon something;
Since the Eighth Route Army came to Wangjiacun, not only were they not wiped out by the Japs, but they also took root. Now not only the Japs have not come to Wangjia Village again, but even the Nationalist Army has not come. Wangjia Village has become the domain of the Eighth Route Army.
After Wang Zimo thought of this, he said to Wang Bodao:
"Father, the Eighth Route Army has only taken root in the countryside. It's still too early to conquer the world, right?"
"You are stupid, why do you still say it when you have conquered the world? That is just flattering!
I am an old man and many things have been determined. You are a young man and represent the future of the Wang family;
The bastards are going to fight against the Japanese. This is a national war. We, the Wang family, have to do our part by killing a few pigs and sending them to the village committee. This is our Wang family’s feelings for the warriors who fight the Japanese. This matter is up to you. Go ahead and do it.
Remember, you did it behind my back! "
Wang Zimo understood his father's meaning instantly, bowed and left.
Director Wang Bo looked at his son's leaving back and entered a fugue state again. From now on, Wang Zimo was a progressive young man who opposed his backward family and actively moved closer to the revolutionary camp.
At Wang Xiangxiang's house, Xiangxiang's mother has completed her task and is using a scale to weigh the fried noodles. She doesn't know how to scale, but she can mark the marks, and then said to Wang Haotou:
"Her father seems to be missing something!"
After hearing this, Wang Langtou said:
"Didn't you mention the vanilla last time? The noodles will be much lighter when they are dry."
Vanilla Girl shook her head:
"That won't work. This is the government's ration. If it's missing, you can't tell. This is the Eighth Route Army's ration. I have to replenish it!"
After the vanilla lady finished speaking, without waiting for Wang Haotou's consent, she went into the back room, took out a large pot of multi-grain noodles from the grain bag, put it into the pot and continued to fry;
When they were ready, they were all put into the public grain. This time the scale beam was raised high, almost to the sky.
Only then did Vanilla Girl tie up the grain bag containing the fried noodles, and happily went to the village committee to hand in the task.
When she rushed to the village committee, there were already many people queuing up to hand over food, including fried noodles and pancakes. Vanilla Nanizi and several female militiamen went door to door to register them.
"Aunt Qi, no, why are you making more fried noodles? When fried, the moisture will only become lighter. You still have an extra pound."
Aunt Qi said nonchalantly, just have more, the Eighth Route Army will eat more and kill more Japanese during the war.
Aunt Qi's words were unanimously echoed by others. This was not the first time. Vanilla had withdrawn several times before, but the fellow villagers were unhappy and said that they only received so much food and could not miss the Eighth Route Army's rations.
There is nothing we can do about the vanilla. We can only collect as much as we have, and then add it to the actual scale.
Finally it was Vanilla Girl’s turn, and Vanilla Girl said directly:
"It's not less, so don't use the scale."
Vanilla won't listen to her mother. It doesn't matter if it's too much, but it doesn't matter if it's too little. Their family can't lack food for the Eighth Route Army.
Vanilla girl couldn't squeeze Vanilla, so she had to get on the scale, and Vanilla said again:
"No, you're over three kilograms heavier!"
Vanilla Girl quickly stopped and said:
"Speak less, Aunt Qi said, just have more, the Eighth Route Army is at war, eat more!"
At this time, Wang Zimo came over with a cart of pork. They were all high-quality white strips of meat, and they were still steaming. It looked like they had just been killed.
"Director Wang, the Eighth Route Army is about to attack the Japanese. This is a little thought from our Wang family. Please accept it."
Wang Xiangxiang was not polite to him and said to Zimo:
"Brother Zimo, just call her Vanilla. On behalf of the Eighth Route Army, I would like to thank the Wang family for their support."
After Wang Xiangxiang finished speaking, she asked someone to come over and weigh her, register, and read aloud:
"Wang Zimo supports 1,085 pounds of fat pork!"
After handing over the pork, Wang Zimo greeted the other fellow villagers with a smile, and then left happily. Wang Zimo's reputation in Wangcun was still very good, and others were happy to talk to him and did not deliberately exclude him. he.
Just for this big cart of pork, others will say that Mr. Wang is benevolent and righteous.
This is also the image of the Wang family that Wang Bodao has been working hard to create in the past two years. In his opinion, reputation is more important than anything else, and money can still be earned.
In the afternoon after harvesting the grain, Wangjia Village organized dozens of young people, each pulling a cart to deliver the grain to the town.
Vanilla Lady gave Wang Langtou a backpack with a few pancakes inside, and then whispered:
"Dad, don't waste time on the road. Only when you are full can you have strength."
Wang Langtou carefully put the cloth bag into his arms, which was warm and warm.
"Let's go, let's go deliver food to the Eighth Route Army!"
