“Three—two—one—”
With Keith’s countdown, another sandbag slipped from his grasp and disappeared into the air.
“Thud—” A cloud of dust rose from the southeastern corner of the marked target area.
“Hit,” came Du Preez’s voice over the noise-canceling headphones. His tone was as cold and indifferent as ever, detached from any sense of excitement.
“Yes!” Keith clenched his fist triumphantly and exaggeratedly waved his right hand. The large motion caused his body to sway at the helicopter door, making it seem as though he might lose his grip and fall out, a sight that was nerve-wracking to watch.
This was the final test of the 2,000-foot drop experiment.
Back at Wonderboom Airport, Keith ordered the helicopter’s tail door to be removed. Without the double doors, the rear section of the Mi-17 looked as though a large chunk had been carved out, giving it an unsightly appearance. However, the change in the drop position yielded immediate results. The accuracy of the sandbags thrown from the tail improved significantly. Although there was still a gap between the drop points and the aiming point, every sandbag now reliably landed within the target zone.
The successful test confirmed the feasibility of Deng Shiyang’s “mortar bombing” plan and allowed Keith to breathe a sigh of relief. He instructed Sien to land the helicopter and told Du Preez to pack up. He needed to return to Durban quickly to discuss building the launcher with Mark. Additionally, with the drop position moved to the rear of the cabin, he realized it was necessary to revise the design of the launcher and the movable support frame.
It took two more days to finalize the design of the launcher. Today was supposed to be the first day of the “human pop-up target” training, but Deng Shiyang was busy writing a report about an incident that had occurred the previous day.
“Overhead live-fire” training is a traditional exercise used by the U.S. military, featured in many movies and TV shows and widely recognized around the world. The name accurately describes the training, which aims to expose soldiers to the shock of bullets flying over their heads, helping them acclimate to battlefield conditions more quickly.
The facility for this training was designed by Deng Shiyang. The main structure was a 150-foot-long, 15-foot-wide shallow trench. The trench floor was compacted with a rammer and filled with water to create a muddy surface. Two rows of 2-foot-high wooden stakes lined the trench, connected by barbed wire to form a low, covered passage. Two machine guns were mounted on 2.5-foot-high tripods, aimed at a dirt wall beside the trench, with the bullet trajectories passing just six inches above the wire.
During training, the soldiers had to submerge themselves in the cold, muddy water and crawl beneath the wire. Along with the sound of gunfire from the machine guns, they could clearly hear the whistling of bullets flying overhead and the “thunk” as they hit the dirt.
Crawling under fire was undoubtedly a challenge. Even those who had performed well in previous training or claimed combat experience often froze in fear before the barbed wire. In such cases, Semler would have those too scared to continue step aside and wait for everyone else to finish before giving them another chance. If they failed a second time, they would be disqualified from the exercise.
The first day of training proceeded smoothly enough. The noise exposure from the previous two days had given some of the soldiers a level of psychological tolerance. Although the initial “whiz” of bullets passing overhead made them flinch, most would follow the lead of the first brave soldier and crawl to the end.
To make the training atmosphere as realistic as possible, Deng Shiyang instructed Harris to install noise-making explosive devices near the trench and sent people to a nearby town to collect bones, meat scraps, and organs from a butcher shop to hang on the barbed wire.
This made life miserable for the black soldiers. After three weeks in the training camp, they had become accustomed to “civilized” living—daily showers, clean clothes, and sleeping on beds with fresh sheets. Now they had to crawl through cold, filthy water, surrounded by the stench of rotting meat and pig entrails. Their hands often turned up submerged pig bones or swollen, waterlogged pieces of pig stomach.
Some couldn’t help but vomit, at which point Semler would pick up the loudspeaker and shout, “On the battlefield, you’ll see things a thousand times worse than this. If it’s not your enemy, it will be you!”
This speech had some motivational effect, and most of the soldiers gritted their teeth and pushed through the training. However, an accident still occurred.
The casualty was a tall, lanky young man whom Deng Shiyang later learned was not yet 30. The details of the accident were unclear, but by the time Deng Shiyang arrived, the scene was chaotic. A group of black soldiers, covered in mud like they had been pulled from a swamp, gathered around the center of the training field. Some were waving their arms in agitation, shouting in an incomprehensible local dialect, and their stench was enough to make one cover their nose from a distance.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.
Harris struggled to part the crowd to let Deng Shiyang through. Several medics in white uniforms were crouched by the trench, frantically tending to a soldier lying on the ground. Their clothes were stained with dark patches, indistinguishable between dirty water and blood.
The soldier on the ground was also covered in mud, but his face and neck had been wiped clean. Deng Shiyang could clearly see his contorted face, clenched teeth, and spasming features. Blood-soaked gauze was pressed against his neck by blood-streaked hands.
Deng Shiyang shot a questioning glance at Semler but held back the obvious questions—“What happened?” or “Why did this happen?” Instead, he pulled Harris aside and whispered, “Assemble your men immediately.” He paused, then added resolutely, “And bring the weapon.”
Harris nodded gravely, parting the crowd and ran toward the office building.
Deng Shiyang turned to Semler, grabbing his shoulder and shaking him hard. The German’s mouth opened and closed mechanically, but whatever he said was inaudible.
“Clean up first. We’ll deal with the rest later,” Deng Shiyang said. “Get these men back to the barracks with any excuse you can think of.” He paused and added, “Training is over for today. Make sure they relax tonight. If you need anything, go to Harris.”
Semler nodded blankly.
Deng Shiyang felt a surge of irritation and leaned toward the medics performing first aid. “How is he? Can he be saved?” he asked, lowering his voice despite knowing the black soldiers wouldn’t understand English.
One of the medics turned to look at him, then gave a subtle shake of his head.
“Damn it!” Deng Shiyang cursed inwardly, then whispered, “Keep trying until my men take him away.” He paused and added, “No matter what, don’t stop.”
The medic seemed puzzled by the order but nodded nonetheless.
“Come with me,” Deng Shiyang said, grabbing the still-Distracted Semler and pulling him to the M-Gator parked by the trench. He climbed into the cargo bed and waved his arms, shouting, “Listen up, everyone, I have an announcement!” He glanced at Semler, who immediately translated his words into Portuguese.
With everyone’s attention now on him, Deng Shiyang continued, “An unfortunate incident has just occurred here.” Once Semler finished translating, he tried to look as solemn as possible and added, “But on behalf of the training camp’s management, I assure you we will do everything we can to save him. He will receive the best possible medical care.”
Despite the attempt to reassure them, the statement failed to quell the dissatisfaction among the black soldiers. Once Semler finished translating, the crowd erupted into noise again.
“Quiet! Everyone, quiet down and listen to me,” Deng Shiyang shouted, raising his hand. He hoped to regain control, but it had no effect.
As the commotion continued, Deng Shiyang frowned and leaned toward Semler. “What are they arguing about?” he asked.
“Well...” Semler focused, listening for a moment before replying, “Most of them are complaining that the training is too dangerous and are afraid of another accident. Others want to know who will take responsibility for this incident and how much compensation they would get if injured during training.”
“I see...” Deng Shiyang muttered to himself. He glanced at the agitated crowd of black soldiers and asked, “What exactly happened in this incident?”
“I’m not entirely sure,” Semler admitted, scratching his head. “One of the machine gun the bullet chain is jammed, so I went over to fix it. Just as I turned around, I heard someone shout. When I looked back, I saw that poor guy’s neck had been shot, and he was hanging against the barbed wire.”
“I think what happened is...” Semler glanced at Deng Shiyang’s disapproving face and pointed to a spot in the trench. “He must have panicked and couldn’t keep going. He stood up to try and climb through a gap in the barbed wire and got shot.”
Looking in the direction Semler indicated, Deng Shiyang noticed a small gap in the barbed wire covering the trench—just large enough for a person to stand in. The original plan was to use welded wire mesh with openings only big enough for a hand to fit through, but since the overhead live-fire training facility had been hastily constructed, they used barbed wire looped around wooden stakes, creating wider gaps.
“I’m truly sorry...” Semler said with a guilty expression. “If I had been watching more closely and stopped them firing as he stand up...”
“The accident has already happened; talking about it now is pointless,” Deng Shiyang interrupted coldly. “Get them back to the barracks with any excuse. He’s not going to make it, and I don’t want him to die in front of them.”
Semler’s face tensed.
“If you can’t convince them,” Deng Shiyang glanced at the black soldiers, “then stall for time until Harris gets back.”
“Understood,” Semler agreed and walked over to negotiate with the soldiers.
Deng Shiyang felt uneasy. Although he had instructed Harris to gather the armed guards, it was a last-resort measure. This incident was undeniable, and if the soldiers intended to use it as an excuse for passive resistance, future training and the upcoming combat operations would become extremely difficult—the last thing he wanted.
As Semler gestured and spoke to the black soldiers in a language Deng Shiyang couldn’t understand, he began to consider his options. During his time at the training camp, he had learned about the behaviors of African soldiers through various means. One remark from Du Preez stood out: “The two most notable characteristics of African workers are laziness and a talent for organizing strikes.”
The first point had been confirmed through Semler’s observations. While Europeans were not known for exceptional industriousness, by their standards, African laziness was almost “alarming.” In economically developed South Africa, despite laws requiring companies to prioritize hiring black employees, many preferred idleness and lived off meager unemployment benefits. In less developed countries, people often foraged for bananas and cassava rather than invest time in farming or livestock, even as those countries spent substantial foreign currency importing agricultural products.
The second point stemmed from a history of white rule, which instilled Westernized values and labor consciousness in Africans. When black-led governments took power and lifted restrictions on unions, the social status of black workers improved, and strikes became a common tool for demanding concessions from employers. The reasons for strikes ranged from wages, rights, and safety to working conditions and discrimination. It was said that a Chinese construction company in West Africa once faced a strike after employees ate a dog, sparking collective protests.