ctnovel Chapter 188 Grain Requisition Team
Chapter 188 Grain Requisition Team
Chapter 189 Grain Requisition Team
How much food does a 7,000-strong army consume in a day?
The quantity is astonishing.
This staggering food consumption required the support of over 60,000 people from the villages large and small surrounding Kutenberg, which is equivalent to less than ten civilians supporting one soldier.
A ratio of 1:10 is also astonishing.
Take China as an example.
In the Qin Dynasty, where the entire population was mobilized for war, an average of 25 people supported one soldier who was not engaged in full-time service. The ratio was approximately 1:25.
During the reign of Emperor Wu of the Western Han Dynasty, the ratio of soldiers to civilians was approximately 1:50.
The military service system was adjusted in the Eastern Han Dynasty. Local powerful families had many soldiers in their manors, the size of the national army was reduced, and the ratio of soldiers to civilians dropped to about 1:200.
During the Three Kingdoms period, frequent wars resulted in a ratio of soldiers to civilians of approximately 1:15 to 1:30, placing an extremely heavy burden on the people.
When the Sui Dynasty attacked Goguryeo, the ratio of soldiers to civilians was as high as 1:20. Excessive conscription led to widespread suffering and ultimately triggered a peasant uprising.
In the early Tang Dynasty, under the Fubing system, the ratio of soldiers to civilians was approximately 1:25; after the prosperous Tang Dynasty, with population growth and the development of the conscription system, the ratio dropped to 1:75.
The Song Dynasty had a large army, but its population exceeded 100 million, resulting in a ratio of soldiers to civilians of approximately 1:100.
The Ming Dynasty implemented the garrison system, which resulted in a small number of soldiers not engaged in full-time service, with a ratio of soldiers to civilians of approximately 1:100.
This shows that a soldier-to-civilian ratio below 1:25 places a heavy burden on the people. A military strength of 25-50 allows for a relatively heavy burden; 50-
A value of 75 represents a reasonable and robust state. A value exceeding 100 indicates lax military preparedness and instability in central power.
The same was true in medieval Europe. To directly support a knight and his family, it would take the output of about 35 peasant households. Assuming 4 people per household, it would take 140 people to support one knight.
The cost of supporting an ordinary full-time infantryman is lower, but it still requires the support of 7 farming households, which means that about 28 people support one full-time soldier.
The Troski region now has a population of over 4000 and a Griffin Guard of 120 men. It is roughly 33 men supporting one full-time soldier, which is a heavy burden. However, after the implementation of collective taxation, the civilians have not complained much.
However, in Kutenberg, the situation was that less than 10 people supported one Hungarian invader, and the severity of this exploitation was unimaginable.
But foreign troops never consider the local civilians when they are stationed. They are only angry that the local civilians do not pay taxes honestly, do not pay grain honestly, and do not hand over their last grain of food. They even think about hiding it or mixing sand into the wheat to deceive them!
These damned bastards!
Early this morning, the gates of the Hungarian military camp were wide open, and six grain requisition teams set out in horse-drawn wagons to plunder for food. They had no choice but to go out and plunder; that bastard Sigismund was not paying the soldiers or providing food supplies. They had no other option but to rob civilians and extort nobles, otherwise they would go hungry that night.
That damned king!
Captain Ptah was the commander of this grain requisition team. He led sixty Hungarian armed warriors and six Kuman scouts. The Kumans looked more ferocious and were good helpers during the grain requisition.
They left the military camp and headed north in six large carts, passing through several villages before arriving at their destination, Bohuno village.
The reason he spared the villages along the way was not because he was kind-hearted, but because they had already been harvested once or were task areas for other grain requisition teams.
"Speed up!" Ptah whipped the air with his horsewhip. "Get to Bohuno before noon. I don't want to spend the night in the wilderness."
Hubono Village, an affiliated village of Lord Hubono, has a population of over three hundred. This was the first time—no, the first time this month—they plundered it, and they still managed to get some loot.
A soldier muttered a complaint: "Boss, why don't we just extort those nobles? How much can we squeeze out of these poor villages?" Puta sneered, his whip whistling sharply through the air: "Nobles? Their castle gates are locked, their guards more numerous than the quills of a hedgehog. They're prey for other warlords, not for us. As for these villagers... they're like overripe fruit, they'll fall at the slightest shake."
The fields on both sides of the road were desolate, and the doors and windows of the nearly abandoned farmhouses were wide open. Occasionally, stray dogs would dart out from the ruins, bark at the group a few times, and then run away with their tails between their legs. A thin, bony child hid behind a tree, staring at the armed group with empty eyes.
"What are you looking at, you little bastard!"
A Cuman cavalryman drew his bow and arrow, and the child vanished into the bushes like a startled rabbit.
Puta wiped his face nonchalantly; he'd seen these kinds of things many times before.
Bohuno village gradually came into view. This village, nestled in the valley, looked wealthier than those we had passed along the way; at least the thatched roofs were still intact and the fences were not badly damaged.
The mill at the village entrance was quiet; the waterwheel, which should have been turning, was motionless, just as the village held its breath.
"Hajtsátokki oket! Mindenkit (Drag them all out! Don't let a single one escape!)!"
Upon arriving at the village, Captain Puta immediately ordered his men to move in, storm into the village, and drive all the residents out of their houses so they could loot them.
"Kifelé! Mozogj te nyomorult (Get out of here, you damned commoner!)!"
Hungarian soldiers stormed into the village like wolves, their heavy boots pounding through the puddles in front of the farmers' doors. Speaking with foreign accents, they searched house by house.
The fierce Cumans rode on horseback to intimidate the civilians who had been driven from their homes, galloping back and forth through the village. The mud splattered by their horses' hooves landed on the panicked villagers, warning them to behave or they would be whipped!
The villagers were roughly driven to the square in the center of the village.
The men clenched their fists, and the women held their children tightly in their arms.
Several old men tried to say something, but faced with the soldiers' gleaming swords, they could only swallow their words.
The gates of the neighboring lord's castle were tightly shut, and the castle guards who had sworn to protect them were nowhere to be seen.
The villagers lowered their heads, hiding their anger.
"Hurry up, don't waste time with those country bumpkins. Kill anyone who tries to stop us!"
Captain Puta roared sternly at his soldiers.
"Quiet down, shut your mouths!"
"Damn country bumpkins, this grain requisition mission is fucking exhausting! I should be in my tent drinking and playing dice with everyone, but instead I'm stuck playing hide-and-seek with you bunch of country bumpkins, damn it!"
The soldiers scavenged supplies while complaining incessantly.
The village chief, Benek, staggered out of the crowd, his linen shirt collar askew and his face still showing signs of sleepiness.
But when his gaze swept over the six fully loaded trucks, he felt as if he had been plunged into ice water and sobered up.
"Alright, old man! Have you prepared the supplies the king needs as agreed? And where are the men I sent beforehand? I hope they're sound asleep right now, sobering up a bit. Your hospitality certainly delighted them!"
The village chief, Bainek, replied hastily, "Uh—you sent someone? No one has come before."
Captain Puta spat angrily on the ground. "Damn it! I'll never trust those vanguard patrolmen again! They're probably off somewhere having a good time! If I catch them, they'll be hanged! Kurva (Damn it)!"
Clearly, this wasn't the first time such a thing had happened. In this poorly disciplined military camp, the soldiers had long since stopped taking orders seriously. As for whether the village chief would lie to him? How dare these lowly commoners?
After venting his anger, Captain Puta asked, "Where's our food? Meat, flour, cabbage, cheese, and eggs—just like last time!"
The village chief breathed a sigh of relief, but his heart immediately tightened again. With a sorrowful expression, he said, "We have everything, we have everything, just not as much as last time. We've brought out everything we could, but now we're struggling to even feed ourselves. Please don't let the soldiers ransack the houses anymore. The houses we gave you are all piled up together, waiting for you to come and collect them."
"Then you'd better pray there's enough for us to eat! Men, stop searching the houses, go and count the supplies, then load them onto the trucks. Got it?"
"Yes, boss."
Everyone arrived at the supply depot, but after a flurry of activity, they had only filled three trucks. Captain Puta was furious, shouting, "Old man, are you lying to me? This isn't even half of what we had last time!"
The village chief pleaded, "Sir, this is all we can offer. Our entire village is starving..."
"You lowly commoners are used to hunger, but the soldiers can't stand it. You'd better give it to me now, or you'll not only be whipped, but also bleed!"
"Sir, we really didn't...."
'
"Snapped!"
Captain Puta lashed out with his whip, sending the village chief staggering. "Since you're unwilling to cooperate, then I'll have to send my soldiers."
Then he said to his soldiers, "Search! Take everything edible and load it onto the carts, but leave Groshin to me alone."
The task of requisitioning grain might be a tough job for ordinary soldiers, but for a captain like him, there was still some lucrative opportunity.
His gaze swept across the villagers' faces as if he were inspecting the teeth of livestock.
"Sir, you can't..."
"
"Slap! Slap!"
Puta lashed the village chief twice more, sending him flying, then yelled, "Shut up! I already told you to send my men to search! Tell your men to stand still and not move an inch under my nose. Do you want to see anyone get hurt or suffer, huh?"
The soldiers began a second round of looting.
This time they were even more violent, and the sound of rummaging through drawers and cabinets was incessant.
A peasant woman screamed and lunged at the soldier who was about to take away her last iron pot, but was pushed to the ground in the mud.
The villagers wept silently, powerless to do anything about the blatant threat of swords and knives from the Hungarians and the drawn bows and arrows from the Cumans.
As a result, very little food was found in the villagers' homes; not even half a cartload.
The experienced Puta suspected that the villagers were still hiding, so he ordered his soldiers to expand the search area. Just then, the cowshed of the landowner Fore caught their attention.
Fresh cow dung exposed the hidden oxen. Like hunting dogs spotting their prey, the soldiers immediately seized the opportunity and followed the dung to find the oxen.
Puta used oxen as bait to get him to reveal where the villagers hid their food.
"Tell me about other grain storage locations, and I might return the ox to you." Ptah's promise was as light as a feather fluttering in the air.
The timid and stingy Foul's gaze shifted between the villagers and the soldiers, finally settling on the trembling ox.
"The Smiler's cellar... the village chief's manure pile... the Wenger's attic..."
Each time he mentioned a location, a suppressed gasp rose from the villagers.
When the soldiers found two more carts of grain following Fowler's directions, an atmosphere of despair enveloped the entire square.
An old woman knelt on the ground, her hands outstretched to the sky, weeping silently. Without food, they would starve to death before autumn.
But half the cart was still not full, so Captain Puta ordered that Old Fow's oxen be slaughtered to make up the difference. Old Fow pleaded and said that he knew a secret in exchange for his oxen.
"Tell me about it!" Captain Puta said, intrigued.
Amid the angry accusations of the villagers, old Foul revealed the secret of the missing patrol—they hadn't failed to come to the village; rather, when the village chief entertained them, these drunken men saw the chief's daughter, Gisovka, and tried to rape the young and beautiful girl. The girl fought back and escaped to her childhood sweetheart.
Wenger's son, Wittek, and the village chief's daughter, Sovka, grew up together and developed feelings for each other. For Sovka's sake, Wittek lured a patrol to the cowshed and then killed them. He himself was also stabbed several times and was on the verge of death.
The surrounding villagers angrily cursed Fu'er.
Puta was furious upon hearing this and ordered his men to search Wenger's house. Soldiers dragged a young man covered in blood out of Wenger's house.
"I will kill all of you lowly people!"
Ptah's face flushed crimson, like a ripe plum. He drew his longsword, its tip gleaming coldly.
At that very moment, a cloud of dust suddenly rose from the horizon. At first, it was just a slight tremor, but soon even the ground beneath our feet began to shake.
"No taxes, no grain, welcome the King of Brunswick!"
66
"For the Silver Dawn!"
'
The shouts, like thunder, rolled across the heavy sky. A cavalry unit, like a silver torrent, instantly reached the village entrance.