Winters now awoke to the food, drink, and bodily needs of dozens of people.
He had taken in the people and horses from Guoquan.
He had also experienced the pain of Guoquan.
Before this, he had never worried about logistics.
Logistics were a concern of senior officers, and Winters was just a Centurion. Whatever was sent down to him, he would send on down the line.
Not enough, he would go to the logistics department to ask for more. If they couldn't give any, there was nothing he could do.
As long as he did not embezzle or line his own pockets, his soldiers would be extremely grateful.
But now things were different, he was an officer without a superior, leading a troop with no rear support—although there were only thirty-eight people at present—everything was up to him.
Without mincing words, if everyone had nothing to wipe their butts with, Captain Montaigne would be the first on their minds.
