Chapter 154: Railway Eagle
Year 27 of the Republic, September 5th, early morning.
Qinglong Gorge…
Rainwater dripped from the edge of He Hansheng’s conical hat, forming a small puddle at his feet. Faint thunder rumbled from the distance, mingling with the muffled artillery fire from the other side of the mountainous area.
“Captain, Lao Qiang has arrived.” Signalman Xiao Chen crouched low and pushed through the bushes, his raincoat covered in mountain leeches.
He Hansheng wiped the rainwater from his face and saw that familiar figure walking through the mist.
Lao Qiang was wearing railway worker’s overalls, and his left leg was noticeably limping as he walked—this was the aftereffect of being bitten by a Japanese Military Police wolfhound at Huzhou Station last month.
“What is it? A change of plans?” He Hansheng asked directly.
According to the original plan, Lao Qiang should be undercover at Huzhou Station monitoring Japanese Army movements at this moment.
Lao Qiang pulled an oiled paper packet from his pocket, containing half a station dispatch order soaked in tea. “Intelligence sent by the comrade responsible for surveillance in Qingpu: the 106 Division supply train is two hours ahead of the original schedule.”
He pointed to the blurry numbers on it. “The materials haven’t changed—still 120 gasoline barrels and 2000 75mm mountain gun artillery shells, passing through Huzhou on the Shanghai-Hangzhou Railway.”
He Hansheng’s pupils contracted slightly. As a veteran who had fought in the Battle of Shanghai, he knew all too well what this batch of materials meant to the 106 Division trapped in the mountainous area.
Gasoline would allow their armored troops to continue advancing, and the artillery shells were enough to sustain division-level firepower for more than three days.
“The Jiangbei battlefield is in dire crisis now; we can’t afford to lose it easily.” Lao Qiang coughed twice and spat out a mouthful of phlegm tinged with blood. “Superior orders: we must destroy this batch of materials, or the consequences will be unimaginable.”
The mountain wind suddenly grew fierce, making the conical hat flap loudly.
He Hansheng pulled out his pocket watch; the face was fogged with moisture—6:17.
At a steady speed of sixty kilometers per hour, the train would pass through their Huzhou Section in at most two hours.
“Nishiyama Ken?”
“Personally escorting it.” Lao Qiang unbuttoned his overalls collar, revealing a fresh burn scar on his collarbone. “This beast is very familiar with our combat methods. I’m sure he came specifically to deal with the Railway Guerrilla Squad.”
He Hansheng clenched the dispatch order. He had heard of this Major Nishiyama Ken’s “reputation”—the man had once organized a “hunting game” at the foot of Purple Mountain.
Now transferred to handle railway security, he must have a special mission.
“You weren’t exposed, were you?”
“Not yet.” Lao Qiang buttoned up and retrieved intelligence from his shoe sole.
“Got this from the special operations comrades—a map of sentry posts along the line.”
“And there’s bad news: the comrade on alert duty spotted Nishiyama Ken carrying a signalman and a portable radio with him.”
“Which means if any section of railway track is sabotaged, an armored patrol vehicle can be dispatched within thirty minutes.”
A deafening thunderclap boomed, and the rain grew heavier, pattering on the oiled paper like countless tiny drumbeats.
He Hansheng quickly calculated his available forces: his Northern Zhejiang guerrilla team could muster 163 men, plus over fifty from Luo Jiang’s Railway Guerrilla Squad, totaling just over 200 men to deal with a well-equipped escort detachment.
Keep in mind, the Japanese detachment isn’t what we call a small detachment—it’s composed of seven squad leaders, three detachments, plus an eight-man detachment operating three grenade launchers.
If it’s a reinforced detachment, it also includes a three-man heavy firepower machine gun team. In short, a well-equipped detachment totals about 54 to 57 men.
Even with over 200 guerrillas, a direct confrontation might not guarantee an easy victory.
“Where’s Luo Jiang?”
“Already waiting for you at Qinglong Gorge.” Lao Qiang suddenly grabbed He Hansheng’s wrist with surprising strength. “Captain He, this batch of materials absolutely cannot reach the 106 Division.”
“Otherwise, Wuhan will be the next Nanjing…”
He Hansheng saw a chill in Lao Qiang’s eyes that he had never seen before.
In three years, this perpetually calm and composed underground worker had shown such intense emotion for the first time.
“You withdraw first and recuperate. Leave this to me.”
Lao Qiang shook his head and drew two gleaming iron wrenches from his waist. “I’m familiar with the structure of every train car and know how the gasoline barrels are arranged.”
He grinned, revealing a gap where a front tooth was missing. “Besides, I have a personal score to settle with Nishiyama Ken.”
7:45 a.m., Qinglong Gorge pass.
Luo Jiang squatted beside the rusted railway track, scraping grease from the rail joints with a dagger.
This Railway Guerrilla Squad captain in his early thirties was lean and dark-skinned, missing half his right ear—a souvenir from last year’s materials train demolition.
“Captain He the scholar is right on time.” He said without looking up, using the dagger tip to pick out a lump of black grease. “Smell this—freshly applied anti-rust oil. The Japanese devils put a lot of effort into this transport.”
He Hansheng stepped over the sleepers and noticed the gravel on both sides of the tracks had been disturbed. “Mines buried?”
“Smart.” Luo Jiang finally stood up and brushed his patch-upon-patch pants. “A trigger mine every five hundred meters.”
The gorge loomed like a giant maw in the twilight, with new concrete machine gun nests faintly visible on the sheer cliffs on both sides.
He Hansheng’s heart sank—this had been an ideal ambush point, now turned into a death trap.
“Can your ‘dirt airplane’ still take off?” He Hansheng used the Railway Guerrilla Squad’s code for railway track demolition.
Luo Jiang pulled a copper device the size of a pocket watch from his pocket. “New high-explosive bomb, German goods, bought from the Shanghai Black Market.”
“The biggest problem now is that Nishiyama Ken has attached an armored reconnaissance vehicle to the locomotive, equipped with a searchlight and heavy machine gun.”
“This guy knows our attack methods well. When we strike, we must destroy the gasoline car at the fastest possible speed.”
“After the mines trigger, we get only one chance to approach the train cars.”
“If we miss, they have light and heavy machine guns, plus three grenade launchers—we won’t get close easily, even if we throw lives at it.”
The two fell silent and walked toward the dense forest outside the gorge, where guerrilla team members were making final preparations.
He Hansheng noticed a dozen unfamiliar faces in the team, all wearing standard Nationalist army military boots.
“Demolition experts sent overnight from northern Anhui by superiors,” Luo Jiang explained, following his gaze. “They brought twenty kilograms of TNT and detonators.”
Deep in the dense forest, three simple sand tables were ready.
He Hansheng saw Lao Qiang directing several team members from railway worker backgrounds, using wooden blocks to simulate the train formation.
“Captain He, Captain Luo,” Lao Qiang looked up, his forehead covered in sweat beads indistinguishable from rain.
A youth wearing round-rimmed glasses interjected: “I’ve studied it with Lao Qiang—we must detonate the gasoline and artillery shells simultaneously, or the remaining materials can still be transported by mule train.”
He Hansheng pondered: “Here’s the plan: Luo Jiang’s detachment creates a fake demolition two kilometers upstream from Qinglong Gorge to lure the armored reconnaissance vehicle away.”
“I’ll lead the main force to set an ambush in the middle of the gorge, and simultaneously detonate the gasoline and artillery shells once the transport cars enter the kill zone.”
“When the explosion sounds, I’ll lead men to rush in.”
“Action time?” Luo Jiang rubbed his ever-present rail wrench.
“8:30. You detonate the explosives up front; leave the rest to me.” He Hansheng unfolded a hand-drawn map and pointed to the location.
At that moment, Lao Qiang suddenly coughed violently, spraying blood onto the wooden block simulating the seventh train car.
He Hansheng then noticed that at some point, a dark stain was spreading across the back of his work clothes…
