Chapter 71: Quarrel
Facing Iinuma Mamoru’s opposition, Tani Hisao was unconcerned, only sneering.
“The British are already a thing of the past. Now Asia should be Japan’s Asia. The Great Japanese Empire is fighting on its own territory. What right does he have to criticize?
Moreover, I can bluntly say that the current Britain is like an aging lion, without the courage or ability to meddle in Asian affairs anymore.”
“Tani Hisao… don’t forget, the British have tens of thousands of troops in Hong Kong and Singapore, and even America has tens of thousands of army troops in the Philippines. Are you so sure they will watch the Great Japanese Empire annex China with their own eyes?”
“What if they don’t agree?”
Tani Hisao’s eyes widened. “For His Majesty the Emperor, for the Greater East Asia Holy War, we should crush without hesitation any forces daring to stand in our way!
What’s wrong with you all? You don’t even dare to use special bombs anymore? Where is your Yamato spirit and bushido mentality?
Is the 9th Division fighting timidly, and you’ve all become afraid too?”
Seeing Tani Hisao speaking righteously, with several generals around showing appreciative expressions, Iinuma Mamoru helplessly shook his head.
Yoshizu Ryosuke, however, had a face full of anger. Tani Hisao, I can understand you wanting to show off in front of the prince, but you don’t need to belittle the 9th Division to elevate yourself, do you?
The continuous unsuccessful battles over several days, along with sarcasm from colleagues, finally made Yoshizu Ryosuke’s pent-up anger explode.
“Enough!”
Yoshizu Ryosuke stared coldly at Tani Hisao: “The 9th Division’s combat effectiveness is not for Tani Hisao to judge.
If you think the 9th Division is fighting poorly, you can send the 6th Division to replace us. I wouldn’t mind cheering and applauding for Tani Hisao from the sidelines!”
“Bang!”
Tani Hisao’s sheathed military saber slammed heavily onto the sand table, shaking the teacups on the table to roll onto the floor. He pointed at the map on the table and sneered:
“The British gunboats are trembling at the Yangtze River estuary. Yoshizu, why worry about them? If the commander agrees, the 6th Division is willing to take over from the 9th Division to launch an attack on St. Paul’s Cathedral.”
“Idiot… are you insulting the 9th Division?” Yoshizu Ryosuke’s eyes turned red upon hearing this.
“Didn’t you say it yourself?” Tani Hisao sneered back.
“You…”
“Please allow me to show something.”
Yoshizu Ryosuke suddenly tore open his military uniform collar, revealing a ferocious shrapnel scar below his collarbone.
He pulled out three items from his briefcase: a broken Type 38 rifle barrel, a deformed Type 92 heavy machine gun cooling fin, and half a charred 7.62x63mm bullet casing, and said loudly.
“The defending troops opposite are not ordinary Chinese forces. Their soldiers are equipped not with Mauser rifles, nor British or French gear, but America’s active-duty Garand semi-automatic rifles.
This rifle’s rate of fire is forty to fifty rounds per minute, while our rifles… only a pitiful ten rounds.”
“These are trophies my soldiers risked their lives to recover from the battlefield.”
As he held up the bullet casing, the burn marks on the metal surface glowed with an eerie blue light under the lamp. “My 7th Regiment dueled Garands with Type 38 rifles. Before we fired five rounds, the enemy had already emptied eight rounds from their chamber, even snapping our rifles in two.”
Hearing this, Tani Hisao scoffed and tore open his collar insignia, revealing the gold-embroidered Rising Sun badge: “Yoshizu, you’ve probably forgotten that back in the Fengtian city walls, our Type 38 rifles beat Zhang Xueliang’s Hanyang Arsenal rifles so badly they couldn’t lift their heads!”
He casually grabbed a copper candlestick from the table and scraped a glaring fire mark across the operations map. “The Chinese troops are just a rabble playing with foreign toys!”
“Rabble?” Yoshizu Ryosuke was so angered by Tani Hisao that he laughed. He pulled a photo from his pocket and slapped it on the table, showing over a dozen Japanese corpses arranged radially, each chest riddled with bullet wounds of various sizes.
He then pulled out a handful of bullet casings and scattered them on the table: “These I personally picked up one by one on the battlefield. Garand bullets can penetrate our steel helmets from three hundred meters away!”
The air suddenly froze, and a voice rang out somewhat abruptly.
“What about our tank troops? Why haven’t they joined the battle?”
“Tank troops?”
Yoshizu Ryosuke suddenly choked up, his fingers digging deeply into the velvet cloth on the desk. “Do you think the Chinese only have these rifles? They are also equipped with a large-caliber anti-tank rifle.
Our Type 89 tanks get torn to pieces the moment they show their heads by their anti-tank rifles.”
Tani Hisao showed a skeptical expression. “The Chinese have such weapons?
With such high ammunition consumption by the Chinese, why haven’t our reconnaissance planes spotted their transport convoys?”
“That’s the intelligence agency’s business. Are you asking me?” Yoshizu Ryosuke suddenly roared.
“Enough!”
Seeing Yoshizu Ryosuke on the verge of losing control, Prince Asaka Kuniaki’s low voice rang out. He glared displeased at Tani Hisao.
“Tani Hisao, the 9th Division and 6th Division are both the empire’s elites and pillars. They shouldn’t be objects for you to mock.
I understand your eagerness for merit, but this is a military conference, not a Tokyo street market, and you’re not a housewife out shopping. I hope you can conduct yourself properly. Understood?”
Tani Hisao’s heart tightened, knowing this was the commander warning him. He quickly bowed deeply. “Hai… thank you for the commander’s instruction.”
“Hm!”
Prince Asaka Kuniaki turned to look at the assembled generals again.
“Gentlemen.”
The prince’s pale fingertips slid over the gold-inlaid pocket watch, the chrysanthemum pendant on the chain gleaming coldly under the light. “Every toll of the bell tower at St. Paul’s Cathedral amplifies the mockery from Britain, America, and others toward the Great Japanese Empire.”
He suddenly turned to Yoshizu Ryosuke, the gold-rimmed glasses flashing coldly. “At noon tomorrow, I want to hear the sound of that Blue Sky White Sun flag falling from the church spire.”
He slowly extended the index finger of his right hand. “Yoshizu, I’ll give you one more day. If you can’t capture that damned church by noon tomorrow, I’ll dispatch the 6th Artillery Regiment to assist you. Understood?”
“Hai.”
Yoshizu Ryosuke’s heart tightened, knowing this was Prince Asaka Kuniaki’s final deadline for him. If he still couldn’t take St. Paul’s Cathedral, headquarters would resort to special bombs. For him, who had confidently promised to capture it in one go, this was undoubtedly a humiliation.
“Commander, if there’s nothing else, this subordinate will take his leave!”
“Go!” Prince Asaka Kuniaki nodded.
“Hai!”
Yoshizu Ryosuke’s Adam’s apple bobbed with difficulty, deep wrinkles forming in the collar of his uniform from his grip.
As he turned and stormed out, slamming the door, the corridor echoed with the crisp sound of military boots crushing glass—that was the shattered celadon teacup by the staff table, mixed with fragments of uncleared operations maps.
Recommend a book by an old author: 《Back to 1978, I Got into Northwestern Polytechnical University》
