Steel, Guns, and the Industrial Party in Another World

Chapter 98: Militia Training

Idiots! I said turn left! I told you to turn left!

Makarov roared as he pulled someone out of the ranks.

This was in a place called Kass Village, located on the southern border of Alda. The village, with about 200 households and nearly 1,000 inhabitants, was considered a very large one in Alda.

During the period of pirate invasions, the villagers organized a militia force of over 50 people for self-defense.

After the pirates were driven away, an official from the lords office established a farmers association in the village and recruited dozens more into the militia, bringing the total number of troops to nearly a hundred.

As for why Makarov, a member of the regular army, was here, the story began a few days earlier.

A few days ago, the military suddenly intensified its training. Many speculated that Alda might be preparing for war with a nearby region.

Many were excited, as, for these regular soldiers, war meant military achievements and rewards.

The soldiers, energized, focused on their training. The victories over pirates and the Baylding rebels made them realize the special advantages of their unit, which they had previously thought were useless exercises.

For instance, formation training allowed them to quickly form advantageous battle formations in the rapidly changing battlefield. The organization into squads, platoons, and companies was convenient for forming and combining formations and also made it easier for commanders to issue deployment orders.

Long-distance marching drills, for example, enabled them to seize advantageous terrain or appear unexpectedly before the enemy.

More sweat in peace, less blood in war.

Now, everyone in the army firmly believed in this.

As everyone trained with great enthusiasm, the staff department suddenly selected a group of experienced veterans and dispatched them to various villages and towns to guide the training of the local militias.

According to the militia training outline previously drafted by the staff department, aside from the busy farming season, local militias were required to undergo at least one day of concentrated training each month. The training included emergency assembly, long-distance marching, formation drills, and bayonet fighting.

Such training, compared to the regular army, was almost negligible, as the militias nutrition couldnt keep up with high-intensity training.

Previously, militia training mainly relied on soldiers who had retired due to injuries. However, due to the insufficient number of these veterans, many areas lacked professional guidance, leading to the ineffectiveness of militia training in most regions.

The threat of war from the Kent family once again brought the staff departments attention to the militia. Additionally, since the busy farming season was over, standardizing and strengthening the militias training was put on the agenda.

Makarov was one of these selected veterans.

Due to his previous military achievements, Makarov had been promoted to the rank of second-class soldier. Upon his arrival in Kass Village, he brought the number of militia up to a company and organized them into platoons and squads according to the armys structure.

He immediately began training them and even asked the village craftsmen to make equipment like horizontal and parallel bars.

There were many difficulties at first. The men couldnt even stand in a proper formation. Every time he organized them and then reassembled them, many couldnt find their proper places, and the formation became a mess.

Drawing on his experience from basic training, Makarov resorted to the whip. With the help of physical punishment, the militia finally started to remember their places, and their assembly formation began to look decent.

Then, when it came to moving the troops, it was a disaster again

He didnt expect them to march in step, but at least they should keep the same pace, right? If they scattered while marching, how could they fight effectively?

Makarov instructed them to start marching with their left foot first, but there were always some who forgot. It wasnt that these militiamen didnt know their left from their right in daily life, but it was possible to get confused under stress, and Makarovs booming voice only increased their nervousness.

This problem became even more pronounced during left and right turns.

For instance, the young man he just singled out was named Josh, a recent addition to the militia. Almost every time Makarov commanded them to march in step or turn left or right, Josh got the direction wrong 7 out of 10 times, making him a prime target of Makarovs special attention.

Josh, now in front of everyone and dwarfed by the burly instructor, looked like a small chick held by a bear.

All the militiamen held their breath, not daring to make a sound. They looked at Josh with sympathy, silently praying for the unfortunate man.

Makarov, touching his forehead in resignation, realized that despite scolding and punishing Josh, he kept making mistakes.

Determined, he loudly said to Josh, This is your doing, Josh.

Joshs face quickly turned to one of terror, fearing what the instructor might do next.

Makarov turned to face the entire group and announced, Militiaman Josh, for repeatedly failing to learn, must be punished.

As for the method of punishment, as Ive told you before, if anyone makes such a basic mistake again, I will make them do this in front of everyone.

Strangely, the faces in the ranks changed from sympathy to anticipation, even schadenfreude.

Joshs face, however, was filled with despair. He pleaded, Please have mercy, Makarov. How will I live in this village after this?

Makarov, stern-faced, suddenly raised his voice and called out, Militiaman Josh!

Yes, sir! For once, Josh responded correctly.

Makarov commanded in an undeniable tone, Carry out the punishment I mentioned before! Now! Immediately! At once!

Yes, sir! Joshs face twitched as he loudly responded to Makarovs command.

With no escape, under everyones watchful eyes, Josh stood at attention, his right hand gripping a wooden rifle on the ground, and his left hand grabbing his crotch.

Then, with a face full of sorrow and anger, Josh loudly proclaimed:

This is my left hand! He moved his left hand as he spoke.

This is my right hand! He moved his right hand.

Left hand is for He hesitated.

Keep going!!! Makarovs roar echoed in his ears, spittle spraying his face.

Josh, with a mix of sadness and anger, continued:

The left hand is for jerking off!

The right hand is for holding a gun!

This is my left hand! This is my right hand! Left hand for jerking off! Right hand for holding a gun!

He repeated this three times.

After a brief silence, the militiamen opposite Josh suddenly burst into roaring laughter: Hahaha!!!

Makarov stepped forward and shouted, Anyone who dares make a sound will do 100 times in front of the whole village.

Everyone immediately tried to stifle their laughter, knowing the embarrassment if it were them.

Josh, on the brink of tears, would never confuse left and right again in his life, but his reputation was ruined.

Militiaman Josh, return to training, the instructor finally allowed him to rejoin.

After this training, the name Left-Hand Josh spread throughout the village.