Chapter 104: Artillery Barrage
On the morning of March 24, 1938, thin mist enveloped both banks of the canal.
The morning sunlight pierced through the mist, casting dappled light and shadow on the southern bank of the canal.
Twenty-four M2A1 105mm howitzers had their gun covers removed, their steel barrels gleaming with cold chill in the morning light.
On the gun positions, gun crews were constantly busy.
The pitted muzzles were raised high, menacingly pointing toward the northern bank.
Unloaded shells in the ammunition boxes emitted a faint smell of gunpowder, mingling with the damp morning air, stimulating the gunners’ nostrils.
The outline of the northern bank loomed vaguely in the mist, like a hibernating giant beast. The gunners occasionally looked up toward the opposite bank, their eyes mixed with excitement and tension.
The artillery battalion commander Zhang Zhihao’s uniform was already wet from the dew, clinging to his body, but he paid it no mind.
He raised his wrist to check his watch; the ticking of the second hand in the quiet morning seemed infinitely amplified, the clear drip-drip sound especially distinct.
When the time reached 6:59, he suddenly raised his right hand, and the loader who had been watching him closely quickly rammed a 15-kilogram high-explosive shell into the breech.
Accompanied by a “clang,” the shell was pushed into the breech.
Then he deftly stuffed a propellant charge in, and closed the breechblock.
Finally, the gunner attached the lanyard.
After all this was done, just as the hand pointed to seven o’clock, Zhang Zhihao raised his right hand and roared: “All units attention… fire!”
The first salvo tore through the stagnant air, the whistling shells like thousands of crows swooping over a wheat field.
In the trenches of the Japanese army positions, a second lieutenant who had just woken up had just pulled out his pocket watch to check the time when suddenly the bright watch face reflected countless red fireballs in the sky. His gaping mouth hadn’t time to make a sound before the entire trench was lifted into the air by the blast wave, bloodied military boots and rifle parts tumbling in the smoke pillars.
At the same time, in an observation post hundreds of meters outside the Japanese positions, Su Yaoyang gripped his binoculars, observing the movements in the Japanese positions.
Accompanied by a sharp whistling sound, he saw a dilapidated house in front of the brick wall shatter like rice paper in a purple-red explosion flame; an inconspicuous machine gun position suddenly erupted in an orange fireball, then two burning human figures darted out from behind the sandbags, soon torn to pieces by the shockwave of the second salvo.
Even from hundreds of meters away, gusts of gunpowder smoke still poured into his nostrils; the hot air mixed with the stench of blood made him feel particularly uncomfortable.
The sudden shelling caught the Japanese army off guard, and for a moment the entire Japanese position was thrown into chaos.
The unit responsible for attacking the frontal positions of Tai’erzhuang these past two days was Su Yaoyang’s old opponent… the 33rd Brigade led by Seya Hiroaki.
Ever since suffering a major setback at Su Yaoyang’s hands last time, Seya Hiroaki knew his career path was completely cut off.
Although the transfer order hadn’t come down yet, he was well aware that the day he returned to the homeland for debriefing wasn’t far off, so in these days of fighting, he had let loose, ordering the two infantry regiments below him with the harshest attitude to launch an assault on the frontal positions of Tai’erzhuang.
Perhaps due to having nothing to lose, the 33rd Brigade’s attacks these days had been extremely fierce, also inflicting severe casualties on the 31st Division; an infantry division of over eight thousand men had been reduced to just over three thousand, and they had occupied most of Tai’erzhuang’s positions.
Seya Hiroaki was even calculating in his mind that once Tai’erzhuang was taken, he must thoroughly investigate where that Nanjing Security Regiment that had ruined his future was located, to see if he could wipe out that unit before returning home.
But things were just so coincidental; the two units that had missed each other in Fengxian met again in Tai’erzhuang, and in such a dramatic way.
When the first 105mm high-explosive shell exploded in the Japanese positions, Seya Hiroaki was startled awake immediately.
His first reaction was: that’s the sound of heavy artillery; who ordered firing without authorization?
But as the second and third shells fell in succession, he instantly sobered up.
“Oh no… that’s the Chinese artillery!”
Seya Hiroaki jumped up from his campaign bed on the spot and roared loudly: “Quick… order the soldiers to take cover from the shelling!”
Unfortunately, his order came too late; by now the Japanese positions were already blanketed by shells raining down from the sky.
Although the Security Regiment’s artillery battalion was equipped with only twenty-four M2A1 105mm howitzers and one M2 107mm heavy mortar company, it seemed not much at first glance, but was that really the case?
At this time, even a US infantry division, renowned for its lavishness, had under its command 3 105mm howitzer battalions（ each equipped with 12 M2A1）, plus 1 155mm howitzer battalion（ 12）.
From this perspective, the Nanjing Security Regiment’s artillery configuration was already seriously overstrength.
Thirty-six guns with calibers over 100mm pouring fire onto a position less than two square kilometers caused damage that was no small matter.
Due to the scarcity of National Army artillery, in this week of fighting with the 31st Division, the shells the National Army poured onto the Japanese positions probably didn’t even reach a hundred rounds, and all were small-caliber mortars; shells over 100mm were almost nonexistent, which gave the 33rd Brigade’s Japanese troops the illusion that they just needed to press the offensive without worrying about large-scale counter-battery fire from the enemy.
It was precisely this illusion that made them suffer terribly.
One shell after another mercilessly smashed into the Japanese positions, turning the entire Tai’erzhuang into a veritable hell.
In the Second Army Group headquarters dozens of li away from Tai’erzhuang, Li Zongren and Sun Lianzhong, who were still fast asleep, were woken by the staff officers.
Dim lamplight illuminated their faces; Sun Lianzhong first grabbed the tea mug from the table and downed the already cold tea inside, then asked the staff officer who had woken them: “How’s the situation in Tai’erzhuang?”
“The Security Regiment’s artillery deployed on the southern bank of the canal has begun shelling Tai’erzhuang; the scene is indescribably spectacular. Our observation post reports they can no longer see the movements inside the town; he’s never seen such dense artillery fire in his life.”
“Heh…”
Li Zongren couldn’t help but chuckle, pointing upward at Sun Lianzhong: “Fang Lu, shall we go up top to take a look?”
“With the commander’s order, I shall gladly accompany you.” Sun Lianzhong laughed heartily.
Accompanied by several staff officers, they left the headquarters; soldiers had already set up a ladder, and the two quickly climbed onto the second-floor roof.
Since the command post was on high ground, standing here one could overlook the situation in Tai’erzhuang over ten li away.
Although the distance was far, through binoculars they could still see that most of Tai’erzhuang had been engulfed in a sea of fire, with rising thick smoke and billowing dust enveloping the entire town.
