Chapter 114: Mutual Entrustments
Early in the morning before dawn, a Japanese squad from the first platoon of the third company of the 39th Regiment was woken up by their sergeant major. The eight members of the squad simply washed up and then took out their cold rice balls, eating them with cold water.
Perhaps someone will ask, why does a squad have only eight people, where are the others?
Heh… because the others have all died in battle. Just yesterday two died, and the other three died in the past couple of days. The replacement recruits haven’t arrived yet, so they could only make do like this.
Although the rice balls were cold, these Japanese soldiers still ate them with great relish.
Everyone was eating while resting and gathering strength, because the battles over the past two days showed that the defenders they faced were completely different from the Chinese troops they had encountered before. Their equipment was better, their supplies more abundant, and their tactics even more insidious and ruthless.
Once the battle starts, no one knows if they will see tomorrow’s sun. This might be their last breakfast in the world.
“Kishimoto-kun…”
Private First Class Kishimoto Hideju just swallowed his last bite of rice ball when Seitaro Ichikawa from the same village took out a diary and handed it to him.
“This is my diary. If I don’t come back today, please give it to Ayako.” After saying that, Seitaro Ichikawa bowed to him.
“Alright.” Kishimoto Hideju took the diary, then pulled an envelope from his pocket and handed it to the other.
“If I don’t come back, please give this letter to my mother… I beg you.”
“Hai!”
The two bowed to each other, entrusting each other in return.
Meanwhile, on the other side, the other soldiers were also making mutual entrustments in twos and threes.
This was also a characteristic of the Japanese army: soldiers in a unit were recruited from the same area or even the same village, so they knew each other well.
Soon, their squad followed the main force and launched an attack on the Chinese troops…
One hour later,
As the sun just climbed over the charred broken walls, Kishimoto Hideju tugged at Seitaro Ichikawa’s sleeve.
He opened his palm, revealing two bloodstained chocolate pieces.
They were found in the pocket of a Chinese soldier who died in yesterday’s battle.
Hiding behind the rubble pile, they let the candy melt in their mouths amid the smell of gunpowder, the sweetness making their noses sting.
This taste reminded Kishimoto Hideju of the night before deployment, under the old cherry tree in his family courtyard, when his sister secretly gave him wagashi.
“Jujiro, can we go back alive?” Seitaro Ichikawa asked somewhat pessimistically.
“Who knows.” Kishimoto Hideju smiled bitterly. Just attacking one street, their squad had already suffered over ten casualties.
Those Chinese soldiers seemed to have an endless supply of hand grenades, throwing one after another. No matter where they hid, those grenades could chase them.
The Chinese also had a large number of submachine guns. Once in close-range encounters, these submachine guns became their nightmare.
“Sigh!” Kishimoto Hideju let out a light sigh.
The two leaned against the wall, silently closing their eyes and lost in thought.
“Beep beep beep…” Not far away, the platoon leader blew his whistle, drew his command sword, and pointed ahead… another wave of attack began.
When the grenade launcher’s shriek tore through the morning mist, the platoon leader waved his army sword and leaped out of the trench.
Amid the explosions, the entire street trembled. That earth wall collapsed like a block of tofu under the bombardment of the Type 92 infantry gun.
The third squad, where Seitaro Ichikawa and Kishimoto Hideju were, charged along the base of the wall. His bayonet still had the cloth doll obtained from the shrine at deployment tied to it.
“Hideju! Right flank!”
Seitaro Ichikawa suddenly roared. As Kishimoto Hideju turned his head, he saw a dark gun barrel protruding from a second-floor window… It was the gray uniforms of the Nanjing Security Regiment, this Chinese unit that was supposed to have been wiped out in Nanjing, now emerging like demons from every wall crack.
The 7.62mm bullets fired from the opposite side penetrated the earth wall, kicking up a spray of blood mist. Private Second Class Taibian, charging at the front, fell backward, a spray of blood bursting from the bullet hole in his steel helmet.
“Baka…”
Furious and shocked, Kishimoto Hideju aligned the sights of his Type 38 rifle on that shooting port. But before he could fire, another round hand grenade fell from the rooftop, erupting in a deafening blast.
Kishimoto Hideju, dazed by the blast, lost his aim. After firing the five rounds in the chamber in one go, he crawled behind a collapsed earth wall to reload.
Under the gray-blue sky, the burning thatched house sent sparks flying into the air like a reverse red rain.
Immediately after, he heard Seitaro Ichikawa roaring loudly from the right side.
“Hand grenade…”
But the sound was only halfway out when it was drowned by the machine gun fire.
He turned his head and was horrified to see that Seitaro Ichikawa’s upper body was soaked in blood, like a piece of cotton cloth saturated with red ink plastered to the charred ground.
It turned out that in the instant three bullets pierced that young body, his good friend fell silently to the ground without a sound, his eyes wide open even in death.
“Taro!”
Kishimoto Hideju’s shrill voice rang out on the battlefield…
The day’s battle ended. Kishimoto Hideju didn’t know how he made it back to their own lines; his friend’s death left him in a daze.
If it were before, he would definitely get a loud scolding from the squad leader for this state, but not now, because his squad leader had followed in his friend’s footsteps… stepping on a landmine planted by the Chinese, and had already been sent to the rear.
Thinking of how his squad leader, who used to slap him at the drop of a hat or beat him with the “spirit injection stick,” was now screaming miserably after having his manhood blown off by the landmine, Kishimoto Hideju felt an indescribable pleasure. That guy who always had a dark face would never be a man again, even if he survived.
He couldn’t understand how those Chinese came up with such vicious weapons that specifically targeted men’s legs and manhood. Was this still the poor, ignorant, backward country in his impression?
Whatever, no more thinking about it. Their platoon probably wouldn’t have to go into battle for the next few days, right?
It wasn’t surprising that Kishimoto Hideju thought this way; the continuous brutal battles had left even this veteran of two years of service somewhat mentally dazed.
In today’s battle, his platoon suffered heavy casualties. The platoon, originally at full strength with over two hundred men, now had only fifty-plus left. His squad was even worse; even the sergeant major had died. The squad of originally thirteen men now had only him and a rookie who had been in service for less than three months.
With such heavy casualties in their platoon, Kishimoto Hideju didn’t believe other platoons were faring much better. If those officers had any sense left, they would immediately pull them back for rest and reorganization.
Of course, this was just what Kishimoto Hideju thought. Who knew what those officers would think.
