Chương 295: Chapter 311. Youngwoo’s Efforts

An outsider's perspective does not always point to the right path. But sometimes, an outsider sees what those within cannot. And when that happens, it is better to accept the observation with humility. Wanyan Zonghan was one such case. A Goryeo military support contingent had arrived, and he thought it only proper to assign its commanders suitable roles and preserve their dignity. He had never expected much from them in the first place.

The first problem was persuading warriors such as Xiemao Ali, Tuohesu, Wuyan Puluhun, Chizhan Hui, Dagu, and Alibu. They were renowned champions and fierce commanders. They had ridden through battlefields since youth and earned their names through war. They were hardly men who would bow their heads and admit they had something to learn about warfare. From the moment word spread that a Goryeo military support contingent had arrived, unease was inevitable.

What Youngwoo proposed was hardly some profound military doctrine.

"Before anything else, shouldn't a man survive when arrows are pouring down and hundreds or thousands are clashing with swords and spears? You have to survive before you can fight another battle, earn merit, or kill another enemy." Youngwoo stated the obvious in the simplest possible terms. His next point followed naturally.

"I am suggesting that we change the armor. I have not brought some miraculous invention from afar. But after coming here, I saw a type of armor that covers almost the entire front of the body and can be made and repaired by the soldiers themselves." At that, Alibu murmured,"Tietuofu." Tietuofu (鐵浮屠): the Jin dynasty's heavily armored cavalry. Both rider and horse were protected by thick armor, allowing them to withstand arrows and spears while charging as shock cavalry to break enemy formations.

They immediately brought out a suit of armor. A penetration test was conducted on the spot. When arrows struck, several overlapping iron plates dispersed the impact. They tested swords and spears under conditions meant to simulate a cavalry charge, and the blades glanced away along the overlapping surfaces of the plates. Youngwoo examined the construction, materials, and underlying principle one by one, then pestered them until they agreed to gather what he needed.

The commanders complained that they had no time in the middle of a war to sit around making such things. Even so, they scraped together whatever materials they had and completed a single suit. Youngwoo never forgot the day they put it on a soldier and everyone gathered around in delight. None of them could close their mouths. Perhaps it was like a toy for grown men. Men who lived on battlefields stared with the bright eyes of children at something that might keep them alive. Youngwoo learned how it was made.

When he confirmed that ordinary soldiers could work on it themselves, he was delighted. They made enough for one man, then two, and increased the number little by little each day. Soldiers wearing the heavier armor were organized separately and trained together, then placed at the front of the assault formation. Youngwoo also had them make extremely light shields that still covered most of the front of the body and could be carried behind the saddle.

Youngwoo had once been an ordinary Goryeo soldier trying to survive beneath a rain of arrows. He therefore understood the weight of survival better than most. He made both commanders and soldiers understand that simple truth. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. The Jurchen style of warfare excelled at opening distance when arrows began to fall, circling the enemy while shooting, and waiting for the opposing formation to break apart.

Youngwoo preserved that strength but demanded one step more. They had to be capable of advancing even through a rain of arrows. They needed armor and shields that could endure that moment before they could break an enemy formation head-on. That was how the Tietuofu gradually moved to the center of their tactics. The cavalry was changing—from horsemen who rode swiftly, shot from afar, and waited for the enemy to collapse into cavalry that could endure incoming arrows and tear directly through the enemy front.

The breakthrough Youngwoo envisioned became possible because of that armor. It was thoroughly practical—seeking truth from facts. At first, the commanders moved only because circumstances forced them to. But once the question became the survival of their own soldiers, they began to follow willingly. They gathered whatever could be found. Iron plates were hammered out wherever smiths could be found. Orders went out for leather thongs.

Soon it became a familiar and strangely peaceful sight to see soldiers sitting throughout the camp, repairing and assembling armor. The next step was developing tactics suited to such troops. Though calling it "developing" was almost too grand. The method itself was ancient. It resembled tactics already known among the Jurchen. It also resembled the heavy cavalry of Goguryeo. The Gaemamusa—armored horsemen.

Gaemamusa (鎧馬武士): cavalrymen mounted on horses protected by armor, while the riders themselves wore heavy armor and helmets. Like the Gaemamusa of Goguryeo, both horse and rider were armored. The horse's chest and neck were protected, while the rider lowered a long lance and drove into the enemy formation. Up to the point of shooting arrows, disturbing the enemy's vision, and searching for weakness, they retained the strengths of traditional Jurchen cavalry.

But once a weakness appeared, the massed Tietuofu heavy cavalry struck immediately. Before the enemy could restore its formation, they pressed into the line with the weight of armored horse and rider, while lance points drove deep into the gaps between shields and bodies. They became, in a sense, a fearless army. Once they possessed armor capable of enduring arrows and horse armor that protected their mounts as well, the soldiers' eyes changed.

They were becoming cavalrymen who no longer circled away from incoming arrows, but rode through them until they reached the enemy line. Under the title of "Youngwoo's support," reform of the army began. At first, Wanyan Zonghan had regarded the Goryeo contingent mainly as something whose dignity needed to be preserved. But as results accumulated, he changed his mind. Veteran commanders such as Xiemao Ali, Tuohesu, Wuyan Puluhun, Chizhan Hui, Dagu, and Alibu began to listen when Youngwoo spoke.

These were men who had earned their names on battlefields. Empty theory did not move them. Tangible objects and visible results did. Behind Youngwoo stood technicians and learned men from Goryeo. There were armorers, men who understood the build of horses, craftsmen who examined bowstrings and arrowheads, clerks who calculated provisions and transport, and scholars who read military texts and translated them into practical battlefield applications. Whenever a problem arose, they gathered at once to examine it.

By the end of a meeting, they produced a solution that could be held in the hand. The thickness of iron plates. The knots in the leather cords. The placement of straps across a horse's chest. The width and length of shields. Even the signals used for coordinated volleys. Everything was adjusted for practical use in real battle. That practicality persuaded the commanders. The words were modest. The results were obvious. A soldier in improved armor endured more arrows.

A horse protected by barding survived the first impact. Archers trained in synchronized volleys could suppress an enemy formation in a single instant. The breakthrough Youngwoo had described was no abstraction. It took shape little by little each day in the dust of the training ground. Iron was precious in Liaodong. There was barely enough to make arrowheads, spearheads, and blades. Finding enough iron plate to cover both men and horses was therefore no easy task.

Youngwoo never demanded great numbers at the beginning. One man was enough. Ten would be even better. They would make as many as they could with what they had, then increase their strength using what they captured on the battlefield. And so the first Tietuofu were completed. They broke through the enemy line. At first, the battle unfolded as usual. Both sides exchanged volleys of arrows, while cavalry repeatedly charged, withdrew, and maneuvered.

But before the battle reached its middle stage, a thin point appeared in the enemy formation. At that instant, a silver line of cavalry cut through the dust. Iron plates flashed in the sunlight. Horse armor deflected incoming arrows. Shields covered the front. Long lances lowered. The Tietuofu drove straight toward the depth of the enemy formation. Their breakthrough changed the flow of the battle. The enemy's front rank buckled. Command banners behind it wavered.

Once the opening appeared, following cavalry poured through, and the broad enemy formation began to collapse from within. The Tietuofu were few in number. But they struck the deepest point at precisely the moment when they were needed most. Victory brought resources. From fallen camps came swords, spears, arrowheads, iron fittings from wagons, and fragments of armor. Usable iron was separated from the other spoils. Craftsmen melted and hammered it into new plates.

Once the plates were ready, soldiers assembled their own armor. They overlapped iron plates over cloth and leather, threaded leather cords through the holes, and tied them together one row at a time. Iron taken from the battlefield became protection for the next battle. At first, it was armor for one man. Then it became armor for ten. Before long, an entire unit shone silver. The Tietuofu grew by feeding on the spoils of victory.

Then came the order for every district to produce iron plates and send them to the front. At that point, armor production became a project of the entire tribal realm. They were told that a single iron plate could save the life of one of their soldiers. The plates were standardized. Their dimensions, shape, and even the size and placement of the holes were made uniform. Smithies throughout the country rang with the sound of hammers, and the plates they produced were sent toward the battlefield.

The plates were heated to drive out moisture, then treated with oil. Those for which there was time received a thin coating of lacquer. Those needed urgently were rubbed with oil and beeswax until they shone. Craftsmen wiped down every plate before threading them together. During camp, soldiers routinely loosened their armor and scrubbed away any trace of rust. Iron captured on the battlefield became armor. And that armor, maintained by the hands of the soldiers themselves, remained almost like a living thing.