Rallying Again

Villefort and the others rowed their small boat, towing a string of crates, and crept stealthily toward the shore. In the firelight below the cliff, he saw several people approaching.

"Cut off a head," the man on the other end said.

"Grow two heads," Villefort replied.

The code was matched, so both sides quickened their pace and rushed forward, their hands clasped tightly together.

"Comrades, we've been waiting for you!"

"Comrades, we're late, and we've made you suffer!"

"It's not too late, it's not too late, it's good that you're here, it's good that you"

After exchanging a few words, they together dragged the pontoons that were towed behind the boat ashore.

"How's the situation now? How's the morale of the troops?" Villefort asked as he and a thin resistance fighter dragged a heavy crate ashore.

"Morale isn't the problem; we're all thinking about revenge, so much so that we can't sleep at night. It's just that most of our experienced comrades have been killed in previous battles, and now many of us don't even know how to fire a gun."

The resistance fighter's voice was clear and crisp; he seemed to be a child.

Villefort then asked, "Can you drag it? It's very heavy." At the same time, he added more force to his pull.

The short man seemed to feel doubted and looked down upon, so he put in more effort. The two of them dragged the box to the fire. By the firelight, Villefort could see the "comrade" who had been dragging the box with him—thin and small, with only a few wisps of downy hair around his lips, looking no more than twelve or thirteen years old.

Just then, another large man dragged an even larger box to the fire. By the firelight, Villefort recognized him as an Ireland friend he had known back in Toulon.

"Kevin!" Villefort called out.

"Arnodia! I can't believe it really is you! When I was dragging my suitcase over just now, I saw your back and it looked just like you. Haha, it's great to be able to work with you again!" Kevin gave Villefort a big bear hug, almost making him breathless.

"Okay, Kevin, let go of me! I'm not a little girl anymore!"

Kevin released Villefort.

"How are Glen and Jeff doing?" Villefort asked again.

Kevin fell silent, and a bad feeling suddenly arose in Villefort's heart.

"They were all killed, just recently," Kevin said in a low voice.

Just then, the child saw them talking and then saw two other people dragging suitcases over, so he went over to help. Villefort then asked Kevin, "Why are you letting such a small child into the line?"

"Sigh..." Kevin sighed.

The child, with sharp ears, overheard these words and turned around, saying, "What's wrong with a child? Can't a child seek revenge on the Britain? Didn't the Britain kill children when they killed the Ireland?"

"This is Glen's brother; he's the only one left in his family," Kevin said.

Villefort gazed at the child's innocent face, and indeed, one could see a resemblance to Glen in that face.

"Although Theo young, he is very clever and capable; he's a qualified little soldier," Kevin added.

"I'd be so happy if you could drop the 'small'," the child muttered, then turned to help someone else drag their suitcase.

"It's almost dawn, we need to hurry," Villefort said to Kevin, glancing at the sky.

Before dawn, they dragged all the boxes ashore, loaded them onto an oxcart, and left the coast.

In a village near a large swamp, Villefort and the fighters of the rebuilt Kilkenny County Guerrilla Brigade were distributing weapons. The brigade, rebuilt after the last major sweep, now numbered about eighty men, no less than before in terms of sheer numbers. According to Kevin, if they only focused on expanding the force, they could easily recruit even more men now.

"However, we don't have many veteran members left. Most of them either sacrificed themselves while holding off the Britain and covering the evacuation of the civilians, or they died while leading the way to hide in the swamp. Now, including myself, Elliot, and West, there are only three veteran members left. The rest of them know almost nothing. Their training really depends on you. Alright, most of the people have arrived. I have some things to do, so I'll leave this to you." Kevin stood up and said.

By this time, everyone had gathered. Villefort stood up and began to introduce the various weapons he had brought to the new soldiers. Kevin, on the other hand, went out, took a few villagers, carried some wooden stakes, and headed towards the swamp.

Villefort was an experienced instructor, but this time, the trainees' behavior was still giving him a headache. What made it even more difficult was that most of them didn't speak French or English, only Ireland. Although Villefort had crammed some Ireland and Kevin had left West to help him, it was still very inconvenient.

For example, when an idiot put the fuse on a landmine backwards, Villefort was so angry he jumped up, wanting to give the guy a good scolding. However, when he opened his mouth, he realized a serious problem—he didn't know how to curse in Ireland. So he cursed the guy in French instead, and then looked at West beside him.

West shrugged at Villefort: "Sorry, Arnoudier, you spoke too fast, there were parts I didn't quite catch, and—there were some things I didn't know how to translate. Um... anyway..."

West turned to the guy. "Instructor Villefort thinks you're a fool!"

So West translated Villefort's full barrage of sarcastic remarks and curses, which lasted for more than a minute, in just one concise sentence.

However, these fools were very serious about learning. Villefort taught them skills, and while their grasp of the material was often poor on the first day, Villefort could generally see a significant improvement the next day. This was because they would use every spare moment to practice. Soon after, Villefort discovered another problem: not only was his vocabulary for swearing severely lacking, but his vocabulary for praising people was also seriously inadequate.

During this time, these new recruits learned pistol and rifle shooting, laying landmines, setting up various booby traps, and various earthwork operations and demolition techniques at Villefort.

Another month passed, and the county brigade's intensive training came to an end. Now it was time to put what they had learned into practice.

During this month, the Britain were also busy. Britain basically completed the popularization of "good citizen certificates" in the cities, organized a relatively strict baojia system (a system of mutual responsibility among local officials), and established military stations and strongholds in some areas near the cities.

In an era before radio and machine guns, it was unlikely that a single pillbox and a squad of soldiers could control a large area. Therefore, each outpost needed to have at least a company of Britain troops stationed there. However, stationing so many men at each outpost would be too costly. So the Britain adopted a combination of regular British Army Irish Security Force to solve the problem.

The Britain established Irish Security Force posts in villages near each outpost and organized security and order committees. These Irish Security Force police were responsible for relaying Britain orders and collecting various fees.

The Britain were well aware that placing the power to collect money in the hands of those "Ireland policemen" would inevitably lead to them exploiting the people and enriching themselves, potentially causing widespread discontent. However, the Duke of Norfolk, the Lieutenant-General of Ireland, asked this question, "If these 'Ireland policemen' don't do this, are they still reliable?"

The Duke's meaning was very clear: why would an Ireland risk his life for the Britain if he couldn't get some unreasonable benefits from Britain? He was either a fool or had ulterior motives. Fools were obviously unacceptable; they would only mess things up and were completely useless. As for those with ulterior motives, or to put it more bluntly, guerrilla spies, shouldn't they be hanged as soon as possible?

Therefore, if any Ireland police officer doesn't prey on the people or engage in corruption and bribery, the best course of action is to arrest and hang him. At most, this would only result in the accidental killing of a few mentally challenged individuals, but what's the big deal about accidentally killing a few Ireland mentally challenged people? The biggest side effect would only be a slight increase in the average IQ of the Ireland population.

Conversely, what if those Ireland police officers were also oppressive and corrupt? That would mean they had become enemies of most Ireland people, and that they would have to rely on the Britain for everything. Therefore, such people are the ones who are truly trustworthy.

Given this assessment, it's easy to imagine what kind of people the "police" in the newly formed "Irish Security Force" are. Meanwhile, the Federation believes that to break the Britain strategy of sweeping operations and consolidating control, it's necessary to crack down on these Ireland scoundrels.

Moreover, these "Irish Security Force" were relatively poorly equipped and trained, and their fighting spirit could not compare with that of the genuine British Army. Taking action against them first would not only disrupt the Britain plans, dampen their arrogance, and deter those scoundrels, but also be more conducive to training the troops.

Thus, an outpost of the "Irish Security Force" became the first target of the new Kilkenny County Brigade.