Only a few months prior, Valle and his comrades were merely green recruits fresh from their studies in China. Now, that youthful naivety had vanished, replaced by a profound steadiness. When Valle spoke, the experience of crossing through fire had transformed external pressure into an internal focus.

"The British are currently employing the 'Iron Chain and Cage' tactic against Ireland," Valle explained. "They use railways and roads as the bars of the cage, and towns as the iron locks. They’ve constructed a vast number of blockhouses across the country to interdict the Revolutionary Army’s communications..."

In another timeline, this sounded remarkably like the Japanese tactics used in North China during the War of Resistance. In reality, these methods had been pioneered by the British during the Boer War in South Africa.

After describing the current situation, Valle fell silent, waiting for the paratrooper commander to speak. The commander was a company-level officer—specifically, a company political instructor within the Chinese National Defense Force. He sensed that the young man in his early twenties before him already possessed the essential quality of an officer: the ability to form opinions based on enemy intelligence rather than personal expectations.

"Comrade Valle, where do you believe the best direction for our next operation is?" the instructor asked.

Valle immediately produced a map. It was clearly captured from the British, bearing their military cartographic symbols. He pointed to two key points. "These are several large fortifications built using forced Irish labor. If we break this 'link' in the chain, the base areas here, here, and here can be unified into a single territory."

The instructor nodded but remained silent. He took another look at the young commander, noting the large scar on the right side of his forehead. Valle had been lucky; had the bullet strayed a fraction of an inch to the left, it wouldn't have just grazed him—it would have fractured his skull.

The other young revolutionaries around Valle were less mature, but they clearly looked to him as their leader. This meant Valle had already secured the leadership of the Irish youth revolutionary movement.

Shifting his focus to the map, the instructor studied it for a moment, finding Valle’s assessment reasonable. However, he tapped a spot closer to the coast. "Can we break through here?"

Valle nodded. "We could. But the Northern Irish units dispatched by the British have blockaded the ports. Rather than entangling ourselves with them, it is better to first liberate central Ireland and sever the roads. This will allow the people in various villages and towns to interact, reducing war casualties. The British blockade is currently causing heavy losses among our comrades."

Hearing this, the instructor felt Valle acted more like a political commissar. In the Chinese National Defense Force, commissars were expected to understand combat while prioritizing political factors like morale and public sentiment.

Agreement was reached quickly. Before dusk, the mixed force reached their objective. Seeing the blockhouses in the sunset, the paratroopers felt a sense of relief. By Chinese standards, a blockhouse was a reinforced military structure capable of withstanding heavy artillery. The British versions in Ireland were 5-to-7-meter-tall brick-and-stone constructions—by Chinese standards, they were quite perfunctory.

However, the Irish Republican Army possessed only light weapons, mostly obsolete rifles. The British blockhouses were perfectly capable of withstanding those.

Among the current units of the World People's Liberation Army (WPLA), paratroopers were classified as standard light infantry. Consequently, they mimicked the Chinese organizational structure, carrying as many weapons and as much ammunition as possible by hand. The paratroopers quickly assembled their standard 60mm mortars, setting the bipods into a flat-fire configuration.

In most cases, mortars are high-angle fire weapons. When used against vertical barriers, much of the kinetic energy from the propellant gas is wasted, making them ineffective at breaching. To counter this, China had developed a flat-fire mount to increase the mortars' destructive power against fortifications.

These designs proved their worth in Ireland. After just three rounds, several holes were blasted into the lowest level of the British blockhouse. The Northern Irish troops inside let out a chorus of cries and immediately switched on their searchlights, sweeping the ground with brilliant beams in an attempt to locate the attackers.

While the rate of fire dropped during flat-fire, the well-trained paratroopers could still manage five rounds per minute. Before the British could lock onto them, the paratroopers fired another six rounds, all hitting their mark.

The base of the blockhouse was now a ruin, unable to support the weight above. With a grinding roar, the upper structure tilted and snapped at the joint. It crashed to the ground with a thunderous boom.

Having lost their high-ground advantage, the British position was charged by the IRA led by Valle, following the plan they had discussed on the road.

In China, middle school students began drill training, and high schoolers underwent formal military training. At the university level, military training was closely integrated with physical education. For the foreign students in the Law Department of the Hangzhou University of Political Science and Law, where Valle and his peers studied, military training was a core requirement.

Valle and his comrades possessed the knowledge to command an infantry operation. Furthermore, their opponents were Northern Irish auxiliaries, not regular British troops. Due to the pressures of the war in the British mainland, the best officers and men had been withdrawn; the Northern Irish units assigned to suppression duties in Ireland were second-rate troops.

The paratrooper instructor organized his men to provide fire support while remaining ready to take over the assault. However, once Valle and his core group were armed with the familiar Chinese Type 81 assault rifles, they were able to exert their full combat potential, completely suppressing the Northern Irish automatic fire positions.

Yet, the other IRA soldiers fighting alongside Valle were of a different caliber; it was obvious they were not accustomed to formal, regular warfare. The instructor, a graduate of the Baoding Military Academy’s infantry program who had later transferred to the airborne, noted that if the Northern Irish troops had been even slightly more competent, Valle’s group would have suffered heavily.

Nevertheless, Valle was a graduate of a Chinese school, while his opponents were a unit that struggled even with machine-gun placement. In this clash of "rookies," the ones trained by China were clearly superior.

Seeing Valle’s group finally breach the defensive line and begin a decisive sweep, the instructor had a different thought. Perhaps the Northern Irish troops were even weaker than he’d imagined; having grown accustomed to a blockhouse-centric combat model over the last few months, they were completely exposed once the blockhouses were gone.

Of course, this was just a hypothesis. Once Valle’s group finished the cleanup, the instructor immediately led the combined force toward the next blockhouse.

The unit, guided by Valle, needed to pass through a village. By Chinese training standards, it was best to avoid villages during wartime. Valle, however, insisted on passing through.

As they entered, several figures emerged from the village entrance. Though it was dark, they rushed forward to greet Valle. "Brother Valle, you said you were coming, and you really did!"

Valle shook hands and hugged them warmly, speaking in an encouraging voice: "The blockhouse at Smith Village has been taken. Now we're going to take the one at Wood Village."

The instructor found the names interesting. Smith Village likely meant "Blacksmith's Village," and Wood Village spoke for itself. Based on the names, it seemed logical for the British to establish blockhouses there.

The villagers were excited. "Take us with you to Wood Village! The British dogs there killed several of our people. Brother Valle, you have to take us to get revenge!"

The villagers didn't just talk; they quickly brought out two old horses and hitched them to a cart. The paratroopers placed the cart in the middle of their formation, loading it with heavy gear like mortars and rocket launchers to conserve their strength.

The term "light" in light infantry referred to their ability to carry only light fire support. Heavy infantry required significant transport for their equipment. Before the advent of motor vehicles, heavy infantry relied on mules and horses to maintain their march and preserve the soldiers' stamina.

After two hours of marching, the Wood Village blockhouse came into view. Its searchlight was frantically sweeping the area, indicating they had likely received word of the previous attack.

The paratroopers performed exceptionally well against a fortification that could be handled by 60mm mortars. Their camouflage uniforms were specifically designed for Ireland's rainy and humid climate. Beyond being water-resistant, the pattern was highly synchronized with the environment, featuring enhanced black sections.

In a rainy, humid region like Ireland, grass grows lushly. The low temperatures mean that dead grass doesn't decompose quickly; instead, it gradually turns into peat while soaked in water. Many Irish rivers appear black, not because of high industrial pollution—the British would never allow Ireland to industrialize—but because the black peat soil particles are washed into the water.

Valle didn't quite understand the science, but he watched as the paratroopers crawled forward on their bellies, dragging their 60mm mortars. When the distance was fifty meters, Valle could still see them. Once it exceeded a hundred meters and the paratroopers stopped moving, Valle could hardly distinguish their silhouettes. Even when the searchlight swept over them, Valle found it difficult to tell the camouflage from the ground.

Twenty minutes passed before shells suddenly hammered the British blockhouse. It was destroyed in short order. Valle told the villagers to wait while he led the charge.

To Valle's surprise, the paratroopers didn't just watch this time. Immediately after destroying the blockhouse, they joined the assault. The paratroopers included Chinese, whites, and blacks, but Valle couldn't distinguish any difference in their combat effectiveness based on race.

The battle lasted only ten minutes. A position that Valle estimated would take at least half an hour to clear was resolved almost instantly.

Before Valle could even secure the area, the vengeful villagers rushed forward with wooden clubs. When the British had forced them to build the blockhouse, they had been beaten and kicked daily. Once completed, the British forbade them from passing nearby, killing and wounding several locals in the process. This was a centuries-old British tradition: the British military would not tolerate being offended.

The Irish were a fierce people with a tradition of "white blade in, red blade out." Since the British military hadn't allowed the villagers to live, the villagers saw no reason to let the British soldiers live now that they were defeated.

Valle hurried to intervene. He understood the Irish temperament, but he also understood Chinese military discipline. For the Chinese, the mistreatment or execution of prisoners was a serious crime.

Ultimately, the villagers didn't kill them. Besides their respect for regular military authority, they believed Valle’s promise. Valle repeatedly guaranteed that there would be public trials for the prisoners, and any British soldier involved in the killing of Irish villagers would certainly be executed to give the people justice.

Under the cover of night, Valle led the exhausted unit several kilometers to another village. Even in the dead of night, once the locals confirmed it was Valle, they welcomed them warmly.

When they learned that Valle’s group had already taken two blockhouses and brought British prisoners, the villagers became ecstatic, howling about "nailing the British to the trees!"

The instructor watched as Valle spent a long time earnestly persuading the villagers to abandon the idea. Once the villagers left to hitch up more livestock, the instructor asked, "What kind of tradition is 'nailing to the trees'?"

Valle whispered in Chinese: "It involves tying someone to a tree, slicing their belly open, pulling out their intestines to wrap around the tree, and then nailing the intestines to the wood. Apparently, it was a Viking tradition. When an old chief was ready to step down, he would do this to himself to prove he was brave enough, thereby securing his son's right to succeed him. In Ireland, it became a form of retributive punishment used against enemies with whom there is a blood feud."

The instructor, who had fought in Southeast Asia, the Indian subcontinent, and Africa, was well-traveled. Hearing of such a cruel method was an eye-opening experience.

By then, the livestock were ready: an old horse and a mule joined the two horses from the previous village to handle logistics. To conserve energy, Valle offered the carts to the paratroopers. The instructor felt his men could still march and insisted that Valle’s exhausted subordinates take the carts instead.

Valle didn't refuse. His unit consisted of IRA regulars and Irish citizens who had joined the revolution after being moved by its principles. Though they had received training, they couldn't compare to regular troops. After two battles within twelve hours, their physical and mental strength was at its limit. Allowing them to ride would help maintain the combined unit’s overall combat effectiveness.

At dawn, the third blockhouse was taken. Valle ordered the men to rest while he went to contact two more villages. He hadn't returned by daybreak.

The instructor used his radio to contact the base in Spain, requesting an aerial supply drop. While paratroopers were elite, they were still light infantry. No matter how strong their bodies were, they were human, and they could only carry so much ammunition and equipment.

In the telegram, the instructor highlighted that he now possessed four carts and requested two tons of equipment and ammunition.

A reply came quickly: the drop would arrive in fifty minutes.

This meant the supply plane was likely already in the air. Indeed, after spending forty-eight minutes setting up drop markers and three radio beacons spaced three kilometers apart, several J-9 advanced trainers arrived.

The J-9s flew low, at only about 500 meters. Three torpedo-shaped canisters were suspended under the wings and fuselage. They were released at 500 meters, their parachutes opening in the air. Even so, the outer shells were dented upon impact. Fortunately, the equipment inside was meticulously packed and undamaged.

Among the two tons of supplies were 600 mortar rounds. This was enough for the paratrooper company to handle significant combat. If their opponents remained these blockhouse garrisons, the instructor felt the coming battles would be relatively easy.

The resting paratroopers were jolted awake by gunfire. They scrambled up, only to see a large crowd gathered nearby, shots ringing out. By the time the instructor arrived, the last British prisoner had been executed. The surrounding Irish villagers were cheering, seemingly unbothered by witnessing the execution of over a hundred men.

The instructor found Valle and asked what had happened. Valle sighed helplessly. "The masses demanded a life for a life. There was nothing we could do." Lowering his voice, he added, "The comrades within the unit felt the same way."

Seeing the crowd in a state of cathartic relief, the instructor gained a deeper understanding of the legends surrounding Irish gangs. He also sensed the cultural gulf between China and European civilization.

Checking his watch, it was 10:00 AM. He looked at the sky; in a country like Ireland where it was clear only a fifth of the time, the sky was a dull gray, with occasional misty rain. The instructor pulled out a medicine bottle and asked Valle, "One pill per battle. Do you want one?"

"Pervitin?" Valle asked.

"Not exactly," the instructor shook his head, speaking solemnly. "I'm telling you, only one pill per battle, and at most twice a month. Any more and you'll definitely get addicted. If you don't take it, sleep on the cart. We have to keep attacking blockhouses all day today to prepare a safe zone for the next drop."

Valle rubbed his face. He felt like he could fall asleep instantly. Staying awake for twenty-four hours straight while marching and fighting was exhausting. Valle knew how severely China cracked down on drug trafficking, so the provision of battlefield stimulants—something usually forbidden—meant the upcoming combat would likely be even more intense.

The instructor didn't want to take them either. In Chinese education, using addictive stimulants was not only a crime but a moral failure. But this was the dilemma of light infantry’s limited sustained combat capability. Since the paratroopers were tasked with operating behind enemy lines, certain compromises had to be made.

Soon, their spirits bolstered by the drugs, the unit guarded their carts and continued their march through the Irish mud. There were many more locations to hit today.

As they left, the instructor looked back. The Irish villagers were digging pits to bury the bodies. Those not digging were tying crosses together with vines and sticks, preparing to mark the graves.

Looking at this display of respect for the dead, one would never imagine these were the same people who had just supported the execution of over a hundred men. But this was reality—just as the instructor had seen many things in the wider world that were diametrically opposed to life in China.

The instructor noted this in his heart, intending to include it in his memoirs after the war. Having traveled so far across the globe, he increasingly hoped to record these experiences, if only so his descendants would know what their ancestors had lived through.