Trouble on the Eastern Seaboard

Excerpt from ‘Imperial History’: Chapter 4
By: Hata no Mikado, Imperial Historian

In the first thirty years of the nation’s existence, westernization had swept through all but the rural provinces like a typhoon. Grand railroads connected border towns and the big city, brick and mortar lined and raised what was once flat skylines, flat caps and dress shirts made their way into the wardrobe. Western mannerisms had even made their way into the ranks of the elite. If you were to attend a social gathering in the past, they would’ve been set in a traditional mansion; most likely in a city or the Imperial capital. Social gatherings now, however, are commonly held in grand mansions out in the rural countryside. On a matter of fashion for the upper class, tailcoats had become the acceptable form of attire for when attending ceremonies or when dining among peers. Though, many still wore the traditional combination of a kimono and haori. Women of the upper class, like many of their loved ones, retained their classic silk kimonos for every occasion.

Elsewhere, Fuso was slowly getting tangled up in a game of border tensions and inhospitable neighbors. Across the Western Border resided the Yang Dynasty and her vassals. For years the “Great Dragon of the West” had always been the dominant of the two nations that shared their small region of the eastern seaboard. But as the power of the once considered inferior Fuso grew, the Yang Court’s stance in the political stage was at risk.

Relations between the two nations only worsened after a series of border disputes in the 1870s. The fact that a growing, modernized military threat had suddenly popped up to the east of the Dynasty’s sacred lands didn’t help to remedy the situation either. Throughout the 1880s and 1890s, the Yang-Fumidate Line would see a sharp increase in military activity from both the Yang Dynasty and the Empire of Fuso. The border has become a powder keg, ready to blow with a single push.

Imperial Capital Shinsu, Spring of 1897
Eastern Government District

Trouble was brewing. Prime Minister Shimura Nobihiru could feel it in the air wherever he walked. Whether he was in his office, at the National Diet, or at home with his family; it surrounded him. There was a constant pressure on the man to approve of the further mobilization of Imperial troops to the Western Border. The pressure only grew after an incident that saw the death of four Fuso nationals to the hands of a group of Dynastic troops. Not only that but public dissent was also starting to grow. The papers were starting to howl about the incompetency and lack of action from Prime Minister Shimura Nobihiru; who wasn’t much of an incompetent leader at all. In his term as Prime Minister, he had furthered the well being of the nation’s economy and passed progressive reforms to bring Fuso up to modern standards. He was the one who cared for the country, he ensured it grew strong and had equally hard roots. How dare they call him incompetent and dismiss his achievements? However, as he saw his chances of being re-elected for another term and his pride as a nobleman slipping away, he knew he had to make a decision.

After countless hours of pacing back and forth in his office, Prime Minister Nobihiru would make his decision. Sitting down at his desk, the senior government official would grab a fountain pen and a sheet of parchment before getting to work.

A day later, a combined force of the 27th and 60th Infantry Regiments from the Imperial Army and the 8th Guards Regiment would receive the order to march to the border.

The Western Border (Ling-Fumidate Line), Spring of 1897
Imperial Field Encampment

It was a beautiful spring day near the western border that separated the fledgling Empire from the ancient Yang Dynasty. The time was approximately 4:30 PM and the sun was high in the sky above the field encampment of the 8th Guards Regiment. Oriental soldiers clad in black uniforms scurried about the camp, weaving through rows of white canvas tents and campfires. Among them were Army cooks, who ran to and fro from wagons to their kitchens. They were moving supplies to the various field kitchens around the encampment as it was nearly time for supper. Elsewhere, the troops of the 8th Guards were busy raising fortifications and partaking in a basic drill.

To the Imperial Guardsmen of the 8th Guards, this was just going to be another exercise. They were ordered along with two army regiments to mobilize to the border and now they were there. Except—of the five regiments being posted at the border—only the 8th Guards was being kept in reserve. The two regiments from the main army were taking the place of two outgoing regiments. Because of this, many of the guardsmen found their newfound situation to be boring. It became a common sentiment throughout the camp as some guardsmen lazed about. They were supposed to be an elite regiment and their role at the border was to serve as a deterrent against Yang troops. But in reality, they were there for a couple of politicians to save face.

High up on a hill overseeing the encampment, the regiment’s colonel sat solemnly underneath a great oak tree. He drank green tea and indulged in an assortment of snacks. Like many of his cadre, he was raised in the manner befitting those of the noble warrior caste. Despite this, he didn’t object to the concepts of the western world—especially to the concept of afternoon tea—as adamantly as others of his class. The aging officer had taken a liking to the idea and the luxurious teas of the west during his time overseas studying modern military tactics. However, green tea would always reign supreme for him. It was what he grew up with after all. With a sigh, the colonel set his cup down on a low table and then gazed out towards the other side of the border with slight contempt.

The Great Valley of the Dragon (Ling-Fumidate Line), Mid Spring of 1897
Yang Border City, Shenmen

At the mouth of a grand valley sat the Yang Border City of Shenmen. Surrounded on both sides by mountains, Shenmen served as a stronghold for the Grand Dragon of the West. It was a chokepoint. The only way an invader from the East could ever touch the divine lands of the Yang would be through Shenmen. In ancient scripts passed down from former Dynasties, Shenmen was also the host to a wise and powerful grand eastern dragon. The fortification of the city and its natural defenses were paraded as one of the Yang Dynasty’s greatest military feats. The troops that manned the stronghold, however, could not be more than underequipped for modern times. Clad in old lamellar armor and some in no armor at all, they manned the gates with swords, spears, and muskets. For the ‘young’ General Zhao Li, his only respite was that the men were at least trained and all strapping young men. Still, compared to the three-man Fuso reconnaissance team that laid hidden in the tree line about 150 meters away; they were severely underequipped.

It seemed ironic to General Zhao Li that his unit of the Army would receive so little when it came to equipment. His requisition order for modern weaponry had been submitted weeks ago, yet there was still no sign or notice of their arrival. This land was mandated by the heavens itself! It was the Emperor’s divine right to rule over them. Would it not make sense for his troops to have suitable equipment to defend it? It was as if his superiors had fooled themselves into thinking that the city was impenetrable through all that propaganda they had been spreading! Zhao Li grumbled as he muttered obscenities at the military leaders in their grand mansions at the capital. If he was able to get an audience with the Emperor then he would’ve definitely been able to secure modern equipment, Zhao Li thought. But he couldn’t do that. He was needed here at the border, his troops needed him here and this was his calling.

“What do you mean my request has been denied by the War Council?!” Zhao Li exclaimed as he slammed his fist against his desk in anger. The messenger standing across from him, frightened by the General’s reaction, immediately kowtowed.

“My utmost apologies, General! The Lords of the War Council have stated that they can not spare your excellency any support due to General Tsing’s campaign against the bandit warlords in the north!” The messenger belted out frantically.

Zhao Li let out a long sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. He should’ve known that it would’ve been the foolish Tsing taking all his supplies. Zhao Li wondered what the point in wasting all that equipment on a bunch of countryside bandits even was. What point was there to even make? Wary, Li would ask the messenger another question. “And what of Lord Xiao’s stores to the southwest? I’m sure he has some equipment leftover due to being so close to the capital.”

The messenger would briefly raise his head, shake it, and then lower it apologetically once more. “Forgive me, your excellency, but unfortunately no. Much of his equipment is being procured by his Majesty’s Imperial Guard and his province has run into some economic troubles concerning their ports and foreign trade.” With his statement said, the messenger lowered his head further. “I’m afraid there is nothing left for the border guards at Shenmen, your excellency.”

What he received from the General in reply was a grumble and a huff, which coming from the General, was a sign that it was fine for him to leave. With the General’s approval of his departure, the messenger stood up and bowed his head before quickly making his way out of the office.

Now alone in the confines of his office, Zhao Li wondered what else he could do. His options, however, were limited. If the government could not supply him with equipment would he have to pay for it with his own money? Private purchase seemed like a sound idea to him, he definitely had the money for it. But where would he even find a merchant who has the sorts of connections to source modern equipment out all the way in Shenmen? Zhao Li sighed as he weighed the few options available to him in the present. If he had foreseen this happening before he departed from the capital with his troops, he would’ve done something about it then. Alas, Zhao Li was not omniscient nor did he expect to be given the keys to the nation at the time.