Chapter 14: Logistics Department Staff Officer? No way!

  On June 20, 1981, Saddam Hussein's youngest son, Qusay, arrived at the headquarters of the Iraqi Southern Military District in Basra with two aides and was warmly welcomed by the district commander, Izzat Ibrahim al-Douri, and his chief of staff, Lt. Gen. Fadhil al-Barak.

  In the spacious conference hall, Izzat delivered a warm and enthusiastic welcome speech, praising Qusay for his cleverness and bravery in foiling the Jewish plot to destroy Iraq's great nuclear reactor, greatly boosting the morale of the troops. The Southern Military District must firmly unite around President Saddam, make its own contribution to the great Arab revival cause, and defeat the Persians.

  Zhang Feng waited for Izzat to finish speaking, and had no choice but to say that this time he was just lucky. However, he was willing to dedicate his youth to the future of the Republic of Iraq. Next, he asked the most crucial question: now that he had arrived here, how did Izzat plan to arrange for him?

  Saddam only agreed to let him come to the Southern Military Region, but what work he would do was not arranged. Zhang Feng did not have any illusions about commanding the entire Southern Military Region. His own experience and ability were not enough, although he was Saddam's son, Saddam would not rashly give such great power to himself.

  Zhang Feng chose to come to the Southern Military Region, just to block the Persian attack. He knew that according to historical development, Iran's large-scale counterattack was about to begin. Although he couldn't do as well as last time, as long as he defeated this Iranian counterattack, Iraq's future would be rewritten.

  Let him go to the troops, take command of a division, if not, then a brigade, a regiment, or even a battalion will do, can't let himself become a big soldier?

  When Kusay heard the words of war, Izzat smiled and said: "Kusay's arrival in the Southern Military Region this time, our military region's 1 million people are all honored, so please let Kusay stay at the command post and serve as a logistics officer."

  Logistics Department Staff Officer? Zhang Feng was very surprised, letting himself go to the Logistics Department, what could he do there? That should be an old man's job. Zhang Feng looked at the other generals around him, apparently, this had been discussed and agreed upon beforehand, not a single person showed any surprise.

  I am Saddam's son, why don't I seem to be welcome here? Although the atmosphere has always been harmonious, Zhang Feng knew that this was just a superficial phenomenon.

  "God willing, now the Iranians are aggressively preparing to attack our occupied lands, our soldiers are holding their positions, I, Kusay Abdullah, am willing to become a regular soldier and defend the front line of my homeland." Zhang Feng said calmly with his hand on his chest.

  Upon hearing Zhang Feng's reaction, Izat smiled wryly and told him to go to the logistics department. This was the president's order, otherwise, he would have let him lead a battalion in the second line. The logistics department was a good position, but it was clear that this president's son, his nephew, had become addicted to fighting and insisted on going to the front lines.

  Bullets have no eyes, and when the time comes, a stray bullet will kill Kusay, how can I explain to my brother? This is absolutely not allowed. Izat smiled and said: "Kusay, you just came out of school and haven't adapted to the rhythm of military life yet. First, stay in the logistics department for a while, adapt, and I'll arrange a few instructors to take charge of your training. After a while, I'll transfer you to a suitable department. Now it's just sending you to the front line, you can't shoot, you can't fight, that's also a waste!

  This reason is quite sufficient! Zhang Feng thought to himself, how did you know I wouldn't shoot? I'm a university graduate, I've never held a gun before. However, in my past life, I was proficient in using various weapons from different countries.

  It's also strange that Izzat was careless. If he had carefully studied Zhang Feng's battle report, he should have found that when intercepting Israeli aircraft, Zhang Feng would even use complex SA-7 shoulder-fired missiles, let alone ordinary guns.

  "So, Commander, what you're saying is that if I learn how to shoot, understand various combat methods and have enough tactical skills, I can go to the front line?" Zhang Feng asked back.

  Izzat: "Well, since I've already said it, although it was just a perfunctory remark... but since I did say it, I have to keep my word, especially in front of all these subordinates. It's not like I can deny it now: 'That's right, this is also for the protection of Lord Kusay. The battlefield is indeed cruel, and sending an untrained person into battle is almost like sending them to their death.'"

  "Alright, let's go." Zhang Feng said.

  Go? "Where to go?"

  "Is there a training ground here? Since the commander wants to test me, I'll let the commander see if my marksmanship is qualified." Zhang Feng said with a smile, but in his heart, he had a feeling of fooling people, wait and see my marksmanship later, and see what you have to say!

  All soldiers know that a godly shooter is absolutely fed with bullets. To practice the skill of hitting every shot, without several years of hard work and sweat, it's absolutely impossible. Rome wasn't built in a day, but was built up brick by brick over days and months.

  And this Kusay, as Uncle Izzat knew, had always grown up under the care of bodyguards, although he had seen guns, but wanted to let him shoot, accurate shooting, it was not yet time, he had been studying hard, whether he could operate the gun proficiently, still unknown.

  Nothing to be afraid of, let him give up his heart and stop bothering himself. Izat said: "There is a training ground in the backyard of the headquarters, today's welcome meeting, we will continue in the training ground behind, everyone's lowest military rank is also colonel, shooting skills, haven't forgotten yet?"

  "Of course not." The officers present said, they had already figured it out and wanted to take a look. President Saddam was proficient in all kinds of weapons, but his son, that's unknown, anyway, now there are commanders here carrying them, so they have nothing to be afraid of.

  Izzat looked at Qusay, who was following him, and suddenly had a bad premonition. If his nephew really met his requirements, he would have no way to retreat. If he really assigned him to the front-line troops, President Saddam would scold him severely. Although the president liked his eldest son, this second son was also his flesh and blood. As the president's brother, it was not suitable for him to offend Qusay too much. What if he really met the requirements and he couldn't disobey the president's secret order?

  Got it! Izzat suddenly thought of a way, he shouted to the deputy officer beside him: "Sajjad, go to Armory No. 3, get a rifle and thirty rounds of ammunition." Thirty rounds of ammunition was exactly the capacity of a magazine.

  "Yes sir," the deputy officer replied and quickly ran out.

  "No need to bother, just take a rifle from one of the guards," Zhang Feng said, pointing to the guard soldier beside him.

  "There were no bullets in their guns," Izzat said.

  No way? Zhang Feng can be considered to have opened his eyes, now is not a peaceful period, and Iran is at war, although this is currently the rear, but in modern warfare, the enemy's small teams will infiltrate at any time. If the Iranians have special forces like their own, then just one decapitation operation would be enough to take out all the bigwigs of the Iraqi Southern Military District.

  Izzat, however, did not feel uneasy here. This place gave him a feeling of safety, even if Iranian planes flew to bomb Baghdad, they would not attack this place because it was a city inhabited by Shiites with important historical value in the Muslim world and also the birthplace of the Basra school of linguistics. If this place were bombed, it would have a great impact on Khomeini's export of revolution, and for now, Khomeini did not intend to attack this place.

  Zhang Feng didn't know that Izzat had his deputy go get a gun, and there was another purpose.

  The training ground is not large, and the farthest target is only over 200 meters. At this distance, Zhang Feng has full confidence.

  "Kusai Gangxia, here is your gun." The deputy officer handed Zhang Feng a submachine gun with both hands.

  Zhang Feng skillfully took over the gun, weighing it in his hands. This rifle was a domestically produced standard light weapon of Iraq: the "Tabuk" 7.62mm assault rifle. It was a copy of the Soviet AKM 7.62mm assault rifle, but its front end and AKM were slightly different, with an added flip-up sight, and the shape of the buttstock was also different, and it was longer than other AK series rifles.

  This rifle uses 7.62×39mm ammunition, gas-operated, single and continuous firing, rotary bolt action, fed by a 30-round magazine, with a total weight of 3.75 kg, overall length of 900 mm, initial velocity of 700 m/s, and theoretical rate of fire of 600 rounds/min. Although Zhang Feng had never used this weapon in his previous life, as an elite special forces operative, he was well-versed in various weapons.

  The rifle in his hand was still brand new, the metal body gleaming with a metallic luster, and the wooden stock emitted a scent of clear lacquer. The commander had also given himself some face by letting him use a new gun to shoot targets.

  Zhang Feng loaded the bullets one by one into the magazine and pushed it into the rifle. Although he had never used this kind of gun before, it was derived from the Soviet Union's assault rifle and was similar to China's Type 56 and Type 81 rifles.

  The rifle was adjusted to 200 meters, and with a familiar bullet loaded, Zhang Feng aimed directly at the target 200 meters in front of him without hesitation.

  There is no wind now, and there is no need to consider the influence of crosswind. Zhang Feng stood upright with his rifle held flat, breathing steadily, and his index finger pulled the trigger.

  For a moment, time seemed to freeze, and Zhang Feng found the feeling he had at the beginning. He could even clearly hear the sound of the firing pin striking the primer, and the bullet flying out of the barrel towards the target.

  Zhang Feng was very confident, even if it wasn't a ten-ring shot, he could still hit the nine-ring, after all, this was a fixed target.

  But unexpectedly, there was no sound of applause. On the contrary, those high-ranking officials in the military region next to him all had that kind of expression?

  "The bullet missed the target." The soldier in charge of checking the target shouted.

  Missed the target? How is this possible?