Chapter 178: Too Late
The night was as black as ink.
At five o’clock in the morning, it was the darkest time before dawn.
On the Japanese army’s position 500 meters outside Wild Wolf Valley, snoring sounds rose and fell one after another.
Suddenly, a sharp whistling sound tore through the silence, followed by a deafening explosion.
Japanese soldiers woke up one after another from their sleep, their pupils still retaining fragments of dreams, only to be filled with blinding firelight.
A sudden rain of bullets smashed down on the Japanese position like raindrops, sending mud and debris flying in all directions as gunpowder smoke instantly filled the air.
The Japanese soldiers who had been immersed in sleep moments before panicked instantly; some fumbled in panic for their helmets, while others hurriedly searched for their rifles.
Some even reflexively started running wildly in the trenches, losing their shoes in the chaos, their soles cut by sharp stones and bleeding without them noticing.
But most Japanese soldiers curled up behind cover to avoid the sudden rain of bullets.
On the ridgeline of Wild Wolf Valley, the muzzles of Oerlikon anti-aircraft guns continued to spit flames.
Halfway up the mountain, Old Cao had sweat beading on his forehead, but it could not hide the excitement in his eyes.
Operating this anti-aircraft gun for the first time, he felt his whole body vibrating with it; every time his index finger pulled the trigger, his eardrums felt the shock before his eyes did, the entire gun position trembling like an anvil being hammered by a blacksmith, the recoil numbing his shoulder blades.
Not only that, 20mm shell casings clattered nonstop onto the base at his feet, with hot brass shells occasionally jumping into his trouser leg, scorching him so much that he grimaced.
He didn’t know which bastard had loaded his magazine; instead of proper high-explosive rounds, it was filled with tracer rounds, and he had just opened fire.
The moment the gunpowder smoke burst from the cooling vents, he saw streaks of orange-yellow tracer rounds tearing golden-red gashes across the dark blue sky.
In the distance, the smoke pillars exploding on the Japanese position looked like mud balls suddenly crushed by an invisible hand, with occasional khaki figures turning into twisted silhouettes amid the blasts.
They say flat-firing anti-aircraft guns leads to military tribunals.
The power of 20mm anti-aircraft guns firing flat stunned everyone; when over a hundred guns fired in unison, the spectacular scene shocked all onlookers.
Years later, some veterans recalled in their old age: That night was the most spectacular scene of my life; the little devils’ position was like a pot boiling over, completely enveloped by our anti-aircraft guns.
Although we couldn’t tally the little devils’ losses that night, I estimate it was considerable, because the next morning, over a dozen trucks arrived at their position, loading corpses for half a day before they relaunched their attack at us as daylight fully broke.
Unlike Old Cao and the machine gunners, the idle soldiers watched the spectacle from the sidelines.
From their vantage point, they saw shells tracing arcs that wove into a net in the night sky, each one bursting into countless tiny fragments upon hitting the Japanese position.
All the sandbags, fortifications, and other obstacles the Japanese had built in front of their position were swept away like dry weeds and rotten wood under the 20mm anti-aircraft guns.
In moments of excitement, some even whistled wolf whistles on the position, their tune blending into the gunfire with an eerie cheerfulness.
The post-war military history of the 20th Division reads as follows.
《Twentieth Division War History: The Calamity of Wild Wolf Valley》
（Combat Report Excerpt, July 29, Showa Year 13）
Dawn had not yet broken, the mountains deathly still. At exactly five o’clock, the ridgeline on the west side of Wild Wolf Valley erupted in continuous red flames, tearing through the silence of pre-dawn.
The Chinese Shanxi militia bandits unexpectedly formed a crossfire net with over a hundred anti-aircraft machine cannons（Note: Post-war investigation confirmed they were Swiss-made 20mm machine cannons）, subjecting our division’s forward positions to full-depth flat-fire assault. This bizarre tactic of repurposing air defense weapons for ground suppression was an unprecedented crisis for the Imperial Army.
At that time, the frontline battalions were in the middle of a rotation, with most officers and men huddled in earthen and wooden bunkers for rest.
The first volley of shells pounded through the trench breastworks like a sudden downpour; 20mm armor-piercing incendiary rounds ricocheted repeatedly inside the enclosed fortifications, turning the entire trench line into a meat grinder.
The wartime log of Major Yoshioka, third battalion commander of the 77th Regiment, records: “Iron rain poured down from the slopes, the observation post’s shield shattering like paper; all personnel from company commander down perished honorably… This was no battle, but a massacre.”
“Baka yarou… You all should commit seppuku, commit seppuku!”
In the 39th Brigade headquarters, Brigade Commander Takagi Yoshito flew into a thunderous rage at the 77th Regiment commander, Koi Tsuyoi.
“Are your positions all made of tofu dregs? Why did the Chinese cause us such heavy losses with just half an hour of fire reconnaissance? Why… why?”
Looking at Takagi Yoshito’s man-eating expression, Koi Tsuyoi’s face was as bitter as if he had swallowed a pound of coptis, but he still forced himself to say: “Brigade Commander, sir, this tactic of the Chinese militia is something we’ve never seen before either.
I just went to inspect; every sandbag and log fortification on the position had been shattered to pieces. This level of destruction is something I’ve never witnessed in over twenty years of service!
In the Chinese words, this is no crime of war!”
Takagi Yoshito fell silent; he knew Koi Tsuyoi was telling the truth. He had never dreamed that the Shanxi militia opposite them would level anti-aircraft guns meant for planes to fire flat—this was cheating, wasn’t it?
And they paid a heavy price in this attack: 347 killed, 189 seriously wounded.
“Indeed, why would the Chinese do this?” Takagi Yoshito murmured. After pondering for a moment, his body suddenly shuddered, horror appearing on his face.
Koi Tsuyoi also paled, a glint of shock in his eyes.
“This is bad!”
“The Chinese anti-aircraft guns are meant to counter our fighters, and that earlier shooting was just their… test fire!”
“Quickly notify Army Aviation to cancel this morning’s attack!”
“It’s too late.” Koi Tsuyoi gave a bitter laugh.
As he spoke, a low rumbling began to sound in the sky.
As daylight fully broke, the Japanese Army Aviation aircraft group pressed down like dark clouds, their engine roars echoing through the valley.
An formation of eight Type 97 heavy bombers from the Japanese Army Aviation 1st Flying Regiment, accompanied by six Type 93 light bombers, was ordered to carry out “sweeping bombing” on the Chinese defenders in Wild Wolf Valley.
The sky was clear today with visibility over ten kilometers; the aviation map marked only sporadic anti-aircraft fire in the valley defenses, so the formation commander, Lieutenant Colonel Nakajima Aoba, ordered a loose formation for diving bomb runs.
However, just as the first bomb was about to release, intense firelight suddenly erupted from both sides of the valley.
Over a hundred Oerlikon 20mm anti-aircraft guns opened fire simultaneously, their blazing barrage pouring upward like a violent rainstorm, tearing apart the once-peaceful sky.
The whistling of shells intertwined with the thunder of explosions, shaking the ground. The Japanese pilots’ faces changed abruptly, staring in terror with wide eyes as they tried to pull up their noses to evade, but it was already too late…
