Chapter 255: Wrapping The Truth In Honor
Showa 14 – 1939 June 13!
A warm border wind blew through the streets of Xinjing, yet it brought no warmth at all.
The detailed battle report of the defeat on the Nomonhan Front was like a needle stabbing straight into the hearts of the Kwantung Army Headquarters Ume Agency and all Japanese puppet high-level officials.
The tank company suffered heavy casualties, the 23rd Division equipment losses were severe, and the myth of the “invincible Imperial Army” revealed its fragile underbelly in the face of the Soviet-Mongol Allied Forces’ steel torrent.
Shame! Unprecedented shame!
This sense of shame quickly transformed into hysterical madness!
The entire Japanese Army war machine in Manchuria and even North China roared into operation at unprecedented efficiency, pushed to the limit.
Railway lines became the busiest arteries, one military train after another like blood transfusion needles, desperately trying to staunch the bleeding wound on the northern grasslands.
Shanghai, Southern Transportation Department, third floor deputy minister’s office.
Promoted from Head of Land Transportation Section to the number two in the Transportation Department, Chen Yang’s authority had increased, and his workload had similarly increased.
On the second floor of the Transportation Department, Land Transport Section, telephone bells, telegram machine ticks, subordinates’ rapid reports, and roars from various places urging for materials intertwined, the air hot as if about to combust.
On the map, the red and blue arrows representing military train operations were densely packed, dazzling to the eyes.
The Transportation Department’s other deputy minister, Colonel Yoshida, sat at the center of this chaos, his face somewhat pale, eyes deeply sunken, as if he hadn’t slept well for days.
However, despite being extremely fatigued, he still calmly handled every document and issued every instruction.
To outsiders, this appeared as devotion to duty to the point of forgetting sleep and meals.
Yet Chen Yang, also deputy minister of the Transportation Department, was enjoying a distinctly leisurely time.
As if the hustle and heavy transportation missions outside had nothing to do with him at all.
Clearly, he was the one coordinating all materials in and out, while Yoshida’s team only managed transportation matters; even if the two weren’t equally busy, the gap shouldn’t be this wide.
But reality was like this; since the 13th, transportation pressure at all levels had surged, various material allocation orders piling up like a small mountain.
Chen Yang’s reason was to give priority supply authority to northbound materials; he had already held up Southern Transportation materials for half a month.
Now the south also needed material support, so Yoshida had to find a way to transport the things to their destinations; of course, the most important point was the materials he had prepared for various factions.
Of course, the most critical among them were the various materials he was smuggling privately!
Chen Yang’s smuggling methods weren’t particularly sophisticated, but like precise surgical operations, they accurately completed minimally invasive “swapping” within the massive system.
Utilizing the deputy minister’s authority to declare “planned losses”…
The Japanese Army logistics system itself had inherent loopholes, especially under such high-intensity operation.
Chen Yang keenly exploited this; when approving the list for “23rd Division ammunition supply,” based on the troops’ reported “fierce battle losses,” he additionally increased the approved quantity by three to five percent as “planned combat reserve.”
This tiny percentage, in the face of tens of thousands of ammunition base units, converged into an astonishing absolute quantity.
These “extra” ammunition, mainly Type 38 rifles, Taisho 11 light machine guns—that is, wai bazi—and Type 97 grenades, would be placed in packaging boxes stamped with “Kwantung Army Logistics Special Approval” and “Nomonhan Emergency Materials,” mixed with genuine items and loaded together.
The same technique was naturally also applied to medicine, clothing, and even canned food.
His signing reason was fully sufficient: “Frontline combat is intense, supply lines are long; ample redundancy must be reserved to cope with the unexpected.”
Of course, besides these military supplies, for more sensitive and critical materials like radio equipment, precision instruments, special steel, or even disassembled mortar parts and explosives, Chen Yang employed a more ingenious “mixed loading” strategy.
He would instruct absolutely trusted comrades planted in key loading and unloading positions to seal these things in specially made wooden or tin boxes, with external markings disguised as “tank spare tracks,” “cannon trail replacement parts,” “engineering survey equipment,” and the like!
These boxes would be cleverly placed in the corners of flatbed carts transporting heavy equipment in military trains, or mixed into boxcars carrying “non-urgent engineering materials.”
Exploiting the flaw of poor information flow between Japanese Army departments, these things would be secretly transported into the hands of Communist Party or Kuomintang buyers.
Of course, after the materials were loaded, the most important part was how to deliver them to the customers’ hands.
This was also the riskiest link in the entire plan.
Chen Yang used his coordinating authority; when “optimizing” northbound military train routes, he would deliberately plan some seemingly reasonable “auxiliary routes” or “temporary supply points.”
For example, a military train departing from Shenyang, fully loaded with troops and ammunition, was originally supposed to go directly via Baicheng to Arxan.
Chen Yang would note in the dispatch order: “To relieve main line pressure and improve efficiency, some cars of this train will be detached and regrouped at Zhangwu Station, detour via the Tongliao line, and undergo temporary resupply and inspection at Taonan Station.”
Places like “Taonan” were often on the edge of active anti-Japanese guerrilla areas.
When the train stopped at these stations according to the “order,” reception personnel already disguised as local laborers, railway maintenance workers, or even Manchukuo railway police would utilize this brief and “legal” stop time, under cover of night or chaos, to quickly unload the marked “special materials,” transfer them to waiting horse carts, donkey carts, or carry them away by manpower…
The timing, contact signals, and transfer routes of the entire process had undergone meticulous calculation and rehearsal.
After completion, the train would continue its journey, with dispatch records showing everything normal, as if it were just an ordinary wartime transportation adjustment.
With Chen Yang’s operations succeeding time and again, an invisible, efficient supply line quietly took shape.
Batch after batch of precious materials traversed the Japanese invaders’ tightly sealed railway network, like life’s blood, continuously injected into anti-Japanese base areas across North China, especially the Red Army headquarters in the Taihang Mountains area.
Deep in the Taihang Mountains, some troops’ ammunition reserves were replenished, and wounded and sick received sulfonamide and other medicines, saving their lives.
Disassembled mortars were reassembled into weapons to strike Japanese bunkers, and even some precious lubricants and special steel were used to maintain and manufacture weapons.
Though these supplies couldn’t fundamentally change the balance of power, under the Japanese Army’s brutal “sweeps” and economic blockades, they undoubtedly played a timely role, greatly boosting the morale of the anti-Japanese military and civilians.
However, no wall is impenetrable. Chen Yang’s actions, though secretive, were not without traces.
The first to notice the anomaly were the Ume Agency secret agents.
In their routine analysis of “security conditions” in occupied areas, they vaguely detected something amiss!
The activity and combat effectiveness of “local Eighth Route Army” in certain areas seemed not to have declined significantly as expected with the Nomonhan Incident and Japanese troop transfers north; in some locales, it had even strengthened.
Although they couldn’t yet directly link this to rear-area materials transportation, their sensitive instincts had already raised suspicions.
Secondly, within the South Manchuria Railway and Japanese Army logistics system, sporadic reports about “minor deviations in materials lists” or “somewhat circuitous dispatch routes” began quietly appearing on certain departments’ desks.
But these reports were drowned in the huge clamor of “northern priority” and daily busyness, or attributed to “inevitable wartime chaos.”
Shanghai, Ume Agency!
The Ume Agency intelligence network, like venomous snakes lurking in shadows, was extremely sensitive to any hint of abnormality.
Several reports from different channels pointing to subtle anomalies in materials flow were cautiously compiled and placed on Deputy Head of Agency Haruki Keiin’s desk.
This matter involved the “Wartime Special Transportation Coordination Headquarters” backed by the Cabinet, Military Department, and South Manchuria Railway, and more directly related to the new deputy minister Chen Yang.
Haruki Keiin did not dare neglect it; upon obtaining the intelligence, he immediately headed to the Southern Transportation Department.
In the evening, he arrived outside Chen Yang’s office, straightened his collar to ensure impeccable posture, then gently knocked on the door.
“Come in.” Chen Yang’s calm voice came from inside.
Haruki Keiin pushed the door open and saw Chen Yang sitting behind a large desk reviewing documents.
He immediately stepped forward a few paces, stopping at an appropriate distance from the desk, slightly leaning forward in a respectful bow.
“Minister Chen, sorry to disturb your work.”
Chen Yang looked up from the documents and, seeing it was Haruki Keiin, a faint smile appeared on his face: “It’s Haruki-kun, no need for formalities. What is it?”
Haruki Keiin maintained his respectful posture and humbly began: “Hai. I’ve come presumptuously because in compiling recent intelligence, the agency discovered some very minor, um, but in my personal view, matters that you should be aware of.”
“Considering your current overall responsibility for transportation coordination, I believe it should be reported to you promptly for your holy judgment.”
“Oh?” Chen Yang seemed slightly interested, set down his pen, and leaned back: “What situation is worth Haruki-kun making a personal trip?”
“It’s some minor reports on materials flow,” Haruki Keiin worded extremely cautiously: “Subordinates in certain North China areas accidentally found empty materials boxes marked with Kwantung Army identifiers.”
“Additionally, in routine transportation audits, there were records of individual cars’ weight and list showing extremely minor differences within loss tolerances.”
“And… it seems small quantities of high-quality military-grade items occasionally appear on the black market.”
“These situations are all very scattered, likely just statistical errors, normal losses during transportation, or counterfeit fakes by illicit merchants.”
“With Minister Chen’s wisdom, you can see through it at a glance.”
“However… as the agency’s duty, and with General Kagesa often instructing us to pay attention to details, this subordinate is obtuse and feels that though such information may not be important, since it involves transportation links, it’s safest to report it to you. Perhaps… it can serve as reference for your overall coordination.”
He positioned himself as an “intelligence collector and reporter,” handing all judgment to Chen Yang.
Chen Yang listened quietly, his face showing no change in expression.
After Haruki finished, he pondered for a moment before slowly speaking, his tone calm yet carrying undeniable authority:
“Haruki-kun, you did right. Information has no size; timely communication is good.”
“However, as you anticipated, under the current overload transportation state, the situations you mentioned have a high probability.”
“Tens of thousands of cars, personnel, links—achieving absolute perfection is impossible in itself.”
“Our energy should focus on ensuring the absolute smoothness of the main arteries, not be distracted by these minor leaks at the capillary ends.”
“Of course, the Ume Agency is responsible for rear-area purification; vigilance is necessary. Here’s what we’ll do:”
“For these scattered signs you mentioned, have your Ume Agency conduct internal verification within your authority.”
“Remember, low-key internal verification. I don’t want unfounded suspicions causing unnecessary panic and interfering with frontline materials dispatch efficiency. That’s the bottom line, understood?”
“Hai! Completely understood!” Haruki Keiin immediately bowed in response. “Minister Chen’s instructions are very clear! This subordinate will grasp the limits, conduct minimal internal verification, never affect the overall transportation picture, and prioritize reporting all results to you!”
“Mm,” Chen Yang nodded in satisfaction, picked up his pen again. “Go get busy. Tell me anytime if there’s substantial progress.”
“By the way, the day before yesterday in the meeting with Onodera-kun, I mentioned you.”
“Your promotion to colonel has been decided; the appointment documents should arrive in Shanghai by late June.”
“Congratulations. With General Kagesa so busy, as deputy head of agency, you must boldly take responsibility and play the greatest role in the Imperial Holy War!”
“Hai! Thank you, Minister Chen, for your support. Then this subordinate won’t disturb your work.” Haruki Keiin bowed respectfully again, then exited the office.
After the door closed, the calm on Chen Yang’s face instantly receded, his gaze sharpening like a knife.
They’ve traced clues this quickly; looks like we need to speed up.
Chen Yang silently sat back behind the desk and dialed the phone: “Moshi moshi, Miyajima-kun, it’s Chen Yang.”
Miyajima’s humble voice came from the other end, the Mai Gen Road Warehouse manager: “Minister Chen, any commands?”
“Nothing much, just want to confirm the loading situation for tomorrow and the day after.”
“Oh, I’ll compile the information right away and send it over.” Miyajima hurriedly instructed his subordinates.
“Then I’ll trouble Miyajima-kun,” Chen Yang said no more and hung up.
About two hours later, the office door was knocked on, and Deputy Section Chief of Land Transport Section Ino Yusuke pushed the door open: “Deputy Minister Chen, material allocation order just delivered from Mai Gen Road Warehouse.”
“Please review.”
Chen Yang was still buried in reviewing documents: “Put it on the desk!”
After placing the documents, Ino didn’t leave immediately but suddenly looked at Chen Yang and said: “Deputy Minister, aren’t we pushing Yoshida-kun too hard? He hasn’t been home for days.”
“Looking at him, he seems to have reached his limit!”
Chen Yang’s steel pen paused slightly, he looked up at Ino Yusuke and suddenly smiled. “Ino-kun, let me ask you a question: which is more important, the truth or honor?”
