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

Chapter 418: Battle of the Lion City Governor's Mansion (4) After the War

Going back in time, the Governor's House built by the Johns was naturally the power center of the Straits Settlements.

As an important colony that controlled the Strait of Malacca, a major shipping route, the Governor's Palace here was naturally decorated magnificently, fully demonstrating the style of the Johns' global colonial empire.

Many officers and soldiers in the Anmin Army were natives of Southeast Asia, who had been controlled and exploited by the colonists for generations. Now, as victors, they entered the Governor's Palace built by the United Kingdom - a grand palace built by the colonists by plundering the blood and sweat of the people of Southeast Asia. They must be very happy in their hearts.

Even if this Governor's Mansion was not taken from the colonists but from the Japanese, it would be enough for them to be proud.

As for those officers and soldiers who immigrated from China to Southeast Asia and then joined the Anmin Army, their mentality was similar. After all, whether it was the Japs or the foreigners, in the old Dragon Country, they were basically oppressors of the civilians. Now that everyone has taken down their old nests, they naturally feel very happy.

The tour continued, and with each room they passed, the officers and soldiers' discussions became more intense.

They whispered about the injustices they had suffered in the past, and expressed their gratitude for being able to step into this "sacred and inviolable" colonial temple as victors.

Some soldiers found a whole row of dusty crystal chandeliers and silver tableware in the banquet hall at the end of the corridor, but good discipline still allowed them to control their hands.

After all, "all captured items must be turned over to the public" is also one of the military disciplines of the Anmin Army. Once discovered stealing, the lightest punishment is solitary confinement, the worst is expulsion from the army, and in more serious cases, even execution. With the current high treatment of the Anmin Army, most officers and soldiers can still tell the difference between having enough food every day and having enough every meal.

A cook exclaimed, "I think this big table can seat thirty people for dinner. It's almost as big as the cafeteria in our garrison. Is this the Governor's Mansion or the Royal Palace?"

The soldiers watched the scene with great joy, and the officer in charge quickly reported the situation to the military police in charge, informing them that there were still a lot of valuable goods here.

A cultural instructor in the group picked up a tattered notebook and read in a low voice the Japanese script: "...Shonan is the core base for the Locust Nation to control Southeast Asia... All ethnic groups must unconditionally obey the rule of His Majesty the Heavenly Locust..."

After reading, he threw the notes into the cracked porcelain plate beside him and sneered, "Obedience is bullshit. Now it's their turn to listen to us."

"The place where the Western devils and the Japanese devils lived before now belongs to us." Another young soldier looked out the window. The sunlight poured in through the shattered glass windows, and seemed to illuminate the hearts of the local Chinese in Singapore who had been oppressed by the colonists for a hundred years.

-----

Outside the Governor's Mansion, little Chen Ming stood at the bottom of the high steps, looking at the building that had just experienced a bloody battle, feeling a little dazed.

The sounds of explosions and gunfire seemed to still echo in his ears, and he seemed to still be holding the handle of the submachine gun in his hand.

However, the reality is that the military flag that persevered to the end under the artillery fire is now flying high on the roof.

"Chen Ming, go up and sign one!" The officer from the Propaganda Department called out to him, holding an ink bottle and a brush in his hand.

"What to sign?" Chen Ming was stunned.

"On the wall!" The officer pointed to the bullet-riddled wall on the right side of the Governor's Mansion. There were several crooked lines on it, which looked like they were scratched directly with a piece of carbon as a pen.

"Wang Baogen of the first company and the first platoon", "Liu Tiezhu", "Fighting to the last moment - Lin Xiangrong".

The education levels of the soldiers in the Anmin Army varied, but thanks to the night school system, most soldiers could at least write their own names. Those with higher education could even add a few more characters.

The Governor's Palace was a tall building, and the wall that had not collapsed was also very wide, with plenty of places to write, so the gendarmes who were responsible for maintaining order just let it go.

Chen Ming walked to the wall and saw countless soldiers gathering in front of it. The scene was very lively.

"Commander-in-Chief Zhang is leaving a name for us!" a soldier nearby said with a smile, "If someone comes to visit again in the future, they'll see these names and know who fought here and shed blood!"

Chen Ming also laughed.

When the soldiers around saw that it was the great hero coming, they all started to make a fuss. They lifted him up, grasped the brush tightly, dipped it in ink, and wrote a few big words steadily next to a bullet hole high up.

"Signal Soldier Chen Ming—Fighting for the Flag."

Behind him, more and more soldiers came forward, vying to leave their names on the wall.

Some wrote neatly, some in extremely sloppy handwriting, and some couldn't wait for the charcoal pencils to be rotated, so they simply used bullet shells as pens to carve their names and unit numbers on the wall.

"Eighty thousand damn dollars! This is more glorious than writing your name on the martyrs' monument!" someone shouted, drawing laughter.

"Fuck off, give me some space after you finish writing!"

"Fuck that son of a bitch! How do you write the word 'yao' in 'guangzongyaozu' (bringing glory to one's ancestors)?"

Chen Ming quietly moved away from the crowd. He looked at the lively scene in front of him and estimated that once everyone signed, the other walls of the Governor's Mansion would no longer be able to be saved.

But who cares?

Just as Zhang Chi said on the radio, he wanted to ensure that the names of every officer and soldier of the Anmin Army were recorded in history and their achievements would be remembered forever.

The names of those who died were engraved on the Martyrs' Monument, while the names of those who survived were engraved on the trophy, the Singapore Governor's Office.

-----

Chen Ming did not stay any longer. As a hero portrayed by propaganda, he was given a long vacation. He then boarded a jeep, and the driver turned the car around and drove towards the field hospital in the rear.

The field hospital was located in a war-torn school in the northwest corner of the city. The former classroom building and playground had been temporarily converted into wards and an operating room. As the jeep drove through the gate, several stretcher-bearers were running in, carrying new wounded. A military doctor in white coats was shouting at them, and a nurse, her face exhausted but moving quickly, was standing by.

Soon, Chen Ming was taken to the ward.

The ward was very quiet. There were two beds on the left and the other on the right, with an old metal cabinet in the middle. Chen Ming could see that compared with the rows of beds in the classroom, the conditions here were already very good.

The old squad leader was lying on the bed by the window, his body wrapped in bandages, his chest rising and falling weakly, and his face was sallow.

"He's been badly injured and hasn't woken up yet," the accompanying nurse whispered. "But he's still breathing, which means he can still be saved."

Chen Ming nodded gently, walked to the bed, and called out softly: "Squad Leader..."

The person on the bed showed no response.

Chen Ming bit his lip, lowered his head and whispered, "The flag is raised, we won... I didn't run away and urinate or have diarrhea, I made you proud..."

Just as he finished speaking, a cough was heard from the bed on the other side.

Chen Ming turned around and saw Li Wenbin half lying on the bed, his forehead wrapped in thick gauze, the area above his right eye was wrapped like a cocoon, with only his left eye exposed.

"You're still fucking alive?" Li Wenbin grinned, his voice hoarse. "I thought you were fried into a roasted suckling pig?"