Chapter 3: German West Africa (4)

  Germany entered West Africa relatively late, in 1868 the Woermann trading house of Hamburg began to establish a presence at the mouth of the Wouri River, and more Germans came to Cameroon, on July 14, 1884, German Consul Gustav Nachtigal signed a treaty with King Douala and other local chiefs, declaring Cameroon a German protectorate, in effect making it a German overseas colony.

  Due to the conservatism of the old prime minister, the empire took a relatively loose control over German Southwest Africa. Even after Wilhelm II came to power and increased investment in German Southwest Africa, less than three years was not enough time to change the desolate face of German Southwest Africa.

  As the capital of German West Africa, Douala was only slightly larger than a town in Germany itself. The whole city was built along the bay and the Wouri River, with not many tall buildings, but more local indigenous people's shanty houses, occasionally with a few Gothic churches interspersed among them. Along the highway to Douala, what enters the eye is desolate and dilapidated scenery, only by entering the city center can one barely feel the breath of modern industrial civilization.

  It was a German colony, and the bars in Kamerunstadt were numerous and mostly bursting at the seams. Countless speculators, adventurers, large plantation owners, colonial soldiers and sailors who had stopped over in Kamerun harbour jostled in the dimly lit bars, leaving hardly any space for Heidie and R?dell to set foot.

  Russians are generous, fond of vodka and cannot celebrate without it. The French are romantic, so they prefer to indulge in red wine at a countryside vineyard, while Germans have a special affection for beer. Even the most calm and rational Germans will instantly transform into top-notch drunkards once they catch a whiff of hops, and only stop when they're completely intoxicated.

  "Boss, do you have any Tsingtao beer?" Reddell squeezed up to the bar and asked.

  In 1516, Duke Wilhelm IV of Bavaria issued the "German Beer Purity Law", which stipulated that only three ingredients could be used in the production of German beer: barley malt, hops and water. As a result, for nearly four hundred years, German beer has become synonymous with pure beer. German beers are broadly categorized into Weissbier (wheat beer), Lagerbier (lager) and Schwarzbier (black beer). Lagerbier is mainly popular in the northern regions of Germany, due to its use of double decoction method, resulting in a clear and crisp taste, with a transparent light yellow color, which is also the bitterest type of German beer.

  Wang Haitie and Lederle were both Northerners, grew up drinking Qingdao beer, with a genetic predisposition to loving alcohol, so as soon as their butts touched the seats they ordered two mugs of Qingdao beer in one breath.

  "Of course we have it, and it's local stuff!" The oily-faced tavern owner said with a pat on his chest.

  Rader was a connoisseur, and one sip told him that the so-called German native product guaranteed by the tavern owner was just a local Cameroonian product. Rader thundered with anger, slamming his fist on the table, ready to have a good argument with the tavern owner. At this time, a missionary rushed in, panting:

  "The Highland tribes have rebelled again, they cruelly killed our officials stationed locally and Father Hilario Mendoza, wantonly destroying our property!"

  The missionary said these words as the holy cross swayed back and forth on his chest.

  "Oh God, the Fulani people should be hanged!"

  "These damned heathens, we should punish them and make them pay in blood!"

  News of the Fulani tribe's rebellion in northern Cameroon spread like wildfire, as if a stone had been thrown into stagnant water, stirring up excitement in dark taverns. Drunks raised their arms and shouted for revenge and slaughter. Speculators and adventurers rubbed their hands together with gleaming eyes, as if they already saw countless gold and treasures. Defense military officers grabbed their hats and hastily left with gloomy faces. The priest sat stupidly in the corner, constantly making the sign of the cross.

  "Westphal, don't worry about it, just a small tribal uprising, this kind of thing happens seven or eight times in chaotic Africa. Riedel put down his wine glass and rolled up his sleeves, angrily walking towards the tavern owner: "Let the colonial defense army and police handle it, that's what the Governor-General of West Africa is for, we just need to drink to our heart's content. However, before we indulge, I must get an apology from the tavern owner, cheating others is not something a German should do..."

  "Rader, I think we should get back to the dock as soon as possible." Wang Haitian was afraid of death, and precisely because he was afraid of death, he had a keen sense of smell for war and potential danger. The otaku pulled Rader back, dropped a stack of Imperial Marks, and left. "There are officials from the Colonial Affairs Department and church fathers who died in the rebellion. This matter cannot be settled with simple punishment. The Empire's power in West Africa is too weak. Watch out, the Governor-General of West Africa will definitely ask for help from the Navy, and we are about to encounter our first war in our military career!"

  ****

  Wang Haitie guessed correctly. When they rushed back to the dock, many experienced old sailors had returned to their combat posts on the Friedrich Karl. The captain of the training ship and the chief instructor of the naval training, Commander Feng Didai, was directing the sailors to take out the firearms locked in the safe for maintenance, and many technicians were busy dismantling the small-caliber secondary guns on the training ship and installing them one by one on the steamboats that the Governor of West Africa had just transferred.

  "You are the first batch of students to return...” Commander Dida patted Wang Haitian and Leder's shoulders, his eyes full of bloodshot admiration: "The Governor asked for our help, and maintaining the interests of the Empire is an unshakeable responsibility for us German Navy, so I agree to send a team of about 100 naval infantry. Go, kids, go get your rifles and wait for the assembly order."

  Wang Haitie and Raddel each took a famous 1888-pattern committee rifle, sat back to back in the shade under the lifeboat, and silently began to maintain their firearms. Before long, Oden also returned, seemingly having drunk quite a bit of wine, his footsteps slightly unsteady, leaning against the side of the cabin with his committee rifle slung over his shoulder at an angle.

  Wiping the gun, cleaning the barrel, checking parts, Wang Haitian's movements were clumsy and awkward. A strange emotion was brewing in his heart, and he couldn't help but think of Instructor Alfred's teachings.

  Lieutenant Alfred, who was in charge of firearms maintenance training, had said more than once that guns were a soldier's life. Unfortunately, at that time, Wang Haitian only complained about the heavy training and hoped to meet a noble person to save him from the water and fire. He racked his brains thinking of how to get through the training assessment, but it wasn't until things came to a head that he realized life was full of unexpected events. Being clever couldn't truly make him feel at ease; only actual ability could guarantee survival.

  "Auden, are you afraid?" Despite countless fantasies of gold armor and iron horses, the otaku was now timid at the moment of the great war. He covered his panicked heart, hesitated for a moment, and glanced sideways to find confidence from Bernhard von Auden.

  "Three parts tension, three parts stealth, four parts bewilderment......" Auden pulled the bolt back, loading the yellowish bullets into the ammunition belt, he said sincerely.

  "Rader, how about you?"

  "What's there to be afraid of?" Erich Redel grumbled, giving the same answer as dockworker Brant: "Someone has to go..."

  Wang Haitie wanted to ask something else, but Dida's low and hoarse voice interrupted her.

  "Assembly! Gunners, torpedo men and naval cadets assemble at the dock, others stand by in place!"

  Auden sprang up, his drunken swagger vanished, and charged down the gangway with renewed energy. Riddell, on the other hand, calmly adjusted his sailor suit, shouldered the committee rifle, and sauntered off the ship. Wang Haitie walked last, her hands on her hips, her mood complex:

  "Is brother's first win coming?"

  ****

  Germany's power in German South West Africa was relatively weak, with only a governor's guard of less than fifty men and a newly formed defense force, led by German officers and non-commissioned officers, totaling no more than six hundred men, leaving only the poorly trained police forces composed of local people.

  It is no doubt a fantasy that just a handful of people want to control the vast German Southwest Africa, so the Germans focus on the rich Bonny Bay coast and the Wouri River area, and mainly adopt tactics such as winning over and dividing the northern fierce Highland tribes Funi and the eastern unruly nomadic tribes Baja and Mbum.

  The rebellion of the Fulani people has a long history, and the character of the highland tribes is like the rugged and uneven plateau terrain in northern German West Africa, desolate and heroic. They have never been willing to submit to one nation for a long time. The newly appointed Governor of West Africa was indeed tired of the repeated rebellions of the Fulani people, and this rebellion resulted in casualties among officials from the Colonial Office and church fathers, so the Governor of West Africa wanted to use thunderous means to eliminate the problem once and for all.

  The West African Governor-General didn't have many cards in his hand, fortunately with the help of the Navy. Before the regular naval infantry appeared, sailors on board had always been multi-talented, proficiently operating warships was a basic quality, and being able to disembark as a landing party, skillfully handling rifles and cannons was also indispensable.

  A contingent of 300 men from the German colonial army, led by German Army officers, and a detachment of 60 marines from the German Navy, as well as a group of 42 naval cadets, assembled on the docks at Douala.

  A fifty-year-old governor of West Africa mounted a high platform on the dock and delivered an impassioned speech. He elevated the value of this low-intensity punitive war to the height of upholding the authority of the German Empire, defending the honor of imperial soldiers, and bringing benefits to the descendants of Germany. Finally, he offered a reward that would drive even Jews crazy. After the speech, a group of young people were so excited that they wished they could immediately appear on the battlefield.

  After the pre-war mobilization meeting, this motley crew of army and navy personnel, students and locals, armed with both new Mauser rifles and old commission guns, set off in a hurry. They would be led by Captain von Mueller of the German West African Army, traveling up the Wuri River on four steamboats, landing at the Yola Gorge mouth, joining forces with several tribes loyal to Germany in the north, marching over 20 kilometers along the mountain foothills, deep into the mountains to find and deliver a crushing blow to the main rebel force.

  "Commander Müller, they are the future of the Navy. I'm entrusting these young people, whose average age is not yet eighteen, to you. You must bring every single one of them back." Commander Dida stood on the bridge of the training vessel, pointing anxiously at the naval cadets' formation on the dock.

  Müller's azure eyes flashed with a hint of pride, and he said in a low voice: "Don't worry, Captain. I will bring back all 42 naval cadets, the Governor-General's promised reward, and Germany's honor... not one less."