Republic Reborn: Against the Stars and Stripes-Chapter 85: All Out

We soon received word that the second battle of the war had been fought—and that the Republic had suffered another defeat. More than two weeks after the Battle of Manila, Heneral Luna launched a counterattack aimed at recapturing the city. It failed, with Filipino KIAs reaching up to five hundred.

Of course, I did not inform the people of Marinduque about this.

Nor was I discouraged.

The political war in the province—or at least in the three major towns—had been won. I had achieved political supremacy. I could now shift my focus from merely trying to look intimidating to becoming genuinely intimidating—and being ready to join the war as soon as possible.

It had become increasingly clear to me that I could not train the recruits to the level I wanted to. I was, after all, only one man, with no instructional resources aside from what I had in my mind—and we did not have the luxury of time.

So I decided to redraft my eight-week training regimen and trimmed it down by half.

The first two weeks would remain unchanged. Discipline was paramount, and decent marksmanship was non-negotiable. These could not be rushed. I tasked the trained platoons stationed in Mogpog and Santa Cruz to act as model units for the recruits in those areas.

I had initially set aside the third week to focus solely on small-unit cohesion, but I realized I could insert trench construction and trench tactics into the mix. Small-unit movement and fire-and-maneuver tactics would work best when grounded in a realistic battlefield environment—one that included trench warfare. Training squads to move and fight effectively while also understanding how to build, occupy, and defend trenches would tie those skills together naturally.

The fourth week would be the culmination of everything they had learned. There would be full-day combat exercises simulating ambushes, flanking maneuvers, trench defense, and trench assaults. They would also be trained to handle stress and confusion through the use of noise, smoke, shouting, and disorder. This was where cadets and NCOs would be tested—forced to lead under pressure.

Accordingly, the training regimen for the officers and cadets would also be modified in parallel with that of the recruits. Physical training would be shared between officers and recruits to build camaraderie and mutual respect. Leadership simulations would be integrated into the field drills, with cadets taking turns commanding squads. There would be less theoretical instruction and more emphasis on combat leadership and decision-making.

Naturally, I would personally supervise the final two weeks. And since I could not be in three towns at once, I intended to proceed with my plan of building training fields and barracks in the plains of Santa Cruz. After their first two weeks of training, all recruits from Boac and Mogpog would be funneled into that town.

I would speak to Don Suarez about securing large tracts of flat land on which to build training facilities. The first batch I had trained—the four platoons now busy either training the second batch or enforcing martial law—would undergo advanced training next. They would become my cadre: instructors and demonstration troops who would help me train the rest.

It was an ambitious task. But if I could manage it, I would be able to establish a training system that no longer required my direct oversight—which would be vital, especially since I hadn’t even begun recruiting from Mindoro and Romblon.

That said, my stockpile of soldier kits had run thin. While food and other resources continued to pour in from the cabezas of the three towns—so much that the storehouses were overflowing—I had no local source for uniforms, rifles, boots, and other equipment.

Our defeat of the pirates had become the talk of the province, and new recruits poured in faster than we could handle. In Boac alone, the number had swelled to two hundred. Capitan Roque reported 120 recruits in Mogpog, and Pedro reported 150 in Santa Cruz. The uniforms I received from Heneral Luna were only good for 500 men, and the rifles we had totaled only about 300.

So it was to my great relief when Francisco finally returned to Marinduque on the last Monday of the month.

A lot had happened since he last visited. When he left, there was no martial law, no pirate attack, no Contreras-Alcantara controversy, and no gunboat or Garay ship docked in the port.

He had heard of some of the events on the way, and the first hour or two of our meeting consisted of him bombarding me with questions. It was amusing to watch how often he paused and stared at me in disbelief.

Francisco massaged the bridge of his nose while leaning his elbow on the table. The meal prepared for him was largely untouched. He smiled and chuckled silently.

"So... you managed all that, and now there are storehouses full of products you want me to sell?" he asked.

I gave a tight-lipped smile, knowing full well I wasn’t asking him for a small favor."Yeah... there’s abaca, copra, rice, timber, honey... even copper."

"So... you really did go all out, huh," he said, eyeing the Kampilan sword mounted on the wall in the sala.

I nodded silently. In truth, I was nervous. If he refused, I’d have to find someone else... and I didn’t think I could find anyone as trustworthy or skilled as he was.

"I’m sorry, Don Lardizabal..." he began. My heart skipped.

"... I wasn’t able to bring you the number of rifles I promised. Someone else has been buying up the guns—maybe a nearby general," he continued. "I don’t think there’ll be any more rifles to scavenge around the nearby islands."

He had brought 201 Remington rolling blocks and 50 Mausers. I was, frankly, superbly impressed. But maybe to him, it felt like a failure. He had promised me 500 firearms, including at least 100 Mausers.

"So...?" I muttered. I almost didn’t want to ask the question. If there were no more rifles, what was the point of having all those trade goods? The requisitioned resources—everything that wasn’t food—would just rot in the storehouses.

"I think it’s time for me to go all out," he said, almost in a whisper, locking eyes with me.

I tilted my head. "What do you mean?"

"I have friends in Hong Kong. Maybe I can find rifles there for you. I think we’ll have enough to arrange a high-level deal," he said.

I didn’t smile immediately. I raised my eyebrows. "Wouldn’t that be dangerous?"

"It will be. There are a ton of ways this could go wrong," he said, "which is why you should only agree to this if you trust me enough."