The expeditionary force began to dominate Southeast Asia by recruiting defeated soldiers

Chapter 585: The Guards hit a wall, Zhang Chi's war of public opinion and image

The support of the masses is the most solid foundation of power.

Especially in this new country, where the sources of immigrants are complex and local forces are intertwined, his prestige as a leader needs constant nurturing and exposure to maintain.

Therefore, Zhang Chi, who had just returned triumphantly from the Yalta Conference that determined the fate of the world, did not even have time to rest properly. After intensively dealing with the backlog of urgent government affairs for several consecutive days, he immediately plunged into another crucial "battle" - the war of public opinion and the war of image.

In Yalta, the photos of him with the Big Three and the reports of him speaking confidently in front of international journalists had already been widely disseminated through all newspapers and radio stations in Southeast Asia.

Praising headlines filled the newspapers, greatly boosting national morale and strengthening his status as a national symbol.

But this isn't enough. The international stage's halo needs to be grounded, translated into a more intuitive sense of identity among the Chinese people. He needs scenes that are more down-to-earth and more empathetic.

So, at this moment, in the old port that had just been liberated by the Nanyang Defense Force, in front of the site of a former prisoner-of-war camp where the eerie atmosphere had not yet completely dissipated, a carefully planned "political show" kicked off.

In the center of the flashing spotlight was Zhang Chi, who was dressed in a Tang suit and had an extraordinary demeanor.

Surrounding him were a group of people who formed a strong visual impact on him - hundreds of white Allied prisoners of war who had just been rescued and were pale and skinny.

Since the Japanese adopted the southward strategy, they captured at least 10 white prisoners of war in Southeast Asia, including civilians and colonial troops.

The prisoners of war and civilians around Zhang Chi, who came from John, White Eagle, the Netherlands, Kangaroo Country and other places, also experienced inhuman torture in the Japanese prisoner-of-war camp on Sumatra Island.

At this moment, having regained their freedom, their faces were filled with confusion, deep pain, and heartfelt gratitude to the man who saved them from hell.

A simple platform was temporarily built on the open space cleared in the center of the camp.

A giant flag of the United States of Southeast Asia and a military flag hung in the background of the platform. Dozens of domestic and foreign reporters set up cameras and recording equipment, their flashbulbs flashing intermittently, emitting a dazzling glare and a soft "puff" sound.

Most of the prisoners of war were wearing tattered prison uniforms whose original colors were unrecognizable, and some could only wrap themselves in rough blankets temporarily distributed by the Nanyang side.

Long-term malnutrition and cruel torture left deep marks on them: they were pale and thin, with high cheekbones, sunken eye sockets, and their exposed skin was covered with whip marks, burns and unhealed ulcers.

Many people were hunched over with dull eyes, as if they had not yet fully woken up from a nightmare.

"General Zhang Chi!" A sergeant of the White Eagle Army, trembling with excitement, spoke in a hoarse voice. Regardless of his weak body, he rushed out of the crowd, opened his arms, and hugged Zhang Chi tightly, almost stumbling.

The spotlights flashed wildly and the shutter sounds became continuous.

Reporters keenly captured this highly symbolic scene - a powerful and young Nanyang leader embracing the weak victim he rescued.

This photo is destined to be the front page headline of major newspapers around the world tomorrow.

Zhang Chi showed no discomfort or arrogance. He hugged the excited soldier back forcefully, patted him on the back gently, and said in a gentle voice in fluent Ansa language:

"Welcome home, soldiers. You have suffered, but now, you are free."

His voice was clearly transmitted throughout the venue through the makeshift loudspeaker and also reached every reporter's recording device.

These words were like opening the floodgates of emotion.

"Thank you, Mr. Zhang Chi, God bless Nanyang." A former Dutch colonial official with gray hair and broken gold-rimmed glasses burst into tears. He tried to straighten his hunched back, bowed deeply to Zhang Chi, his voice choked with sobs.

"Freedom, we are finally free. Thank you Nanyang, thank you Nanyang Defense Force." Several young Kangaroo Country soldiers supported each other, waving their fists excitedly, with tears of rebirth on their faces.

A Dutch woman, so thin that she was just a bag of bones, hugged an equally thin child tightly, knelt on the ground, kissed the land under her feet that was no longer a cage, and murmured "thank you" repeatedly in Dutch.

The scene was a little out of control at one point, filled with excitement, crying and shouts of gratitude.

The reporters' cameras greedily recorded everything: the prisoners shook hands, hugged, and talked to Zhang Chi, while Zhang Chi listened patiently, nodded from time to time, his expression solemn and full of sympathy.

After the crowd calmed down a little, Zhang Chi, under the guidance of his adjutant, slowly walked to the microphone in the center of the platform.

He looked around at the flashing cameras below. Wasn't this a good opportunity to build momentum?

So he took a deep breath and deliberately made his voice suddenly become high-pitched and powerful:

"Ladies and gentlemen, friends from the Allied nations, compatriots from the United States of Southeast Asia."

His opening remarks immediately attracted everyone's attention.

"Standing here today, my heart is filled with immense heaviness and indignation," he said, pointing to the eerie building behind him. "In this hell on earth built by the fascist demons, tens of thousands of our compatriots from allied countries—brave soldiers, innocent civilians, kind doctors and teachers—have suffered unimaginable and inhumane torture. Hunger, disease, torture, endless hard labor... Their dignity has been trampled upon, and their lives have been treated like worthless grass."

The prisoners of war in the audience recalled those dark days, their bodies trembled involuntarily, tears filled their eyes again, and some could not help but let out suppressed sobs.

The reporters recorded it with bated breath. This was the most powerful accusation against the Japanese atrocities.