Chapter 227: Attack
A spring breeze blew across the land, and Shanxi in February had already begun to emerge from the cold winter, ushering in the season of spring.
A dull roar sounded in the sky as a strangely shaped, grass-green airplane emerged from the clouds.
At first glance, the airplane seemed to have two fuselages and three heads, an extremely bizarre appearance, looking like a demon with two bodies.
This airplane was the F-4 long-range reconnaissance aircraft modified from the P-38 fighter and equipped by the Shanxi Militia.
At this moment, the airplane was flying dozens of miles east of Guoxian, the very area where the Japanese army and the Shanxi Militia had been contending for over a year, with both sides deploying large numbers of troops here.
More than a year of standoff and “peace” had not restored vitality to this land.
On the contrary, it had been transformed by the Japanese army into a ferocious, ugly defensive position resembling a centipede lurking on the earth.
Zhu Jin piloted this somewhat bulky and ferocious-looking reconnaissance aircraft at over 200 kilometers per hour at low altitude of 500 meters, scanning the land below while flying.
Although this was not the first time he had seen the land below ravaged by the Japanese army, seeing it again still stirred up his anger.
He opened the internal channel and said, “What good land, yet ruined by the little devils like this.”
The photographer and radioman Xie Bingchun sitting in the back also said, “No way around it, just as the Commander said, we’re a weak country.
Weakness is the original sin, the weak get beaten, all we can do now is wipe out all the devils invading our territory, then let the little devils taste the flavor of being invaded.”
“The Commander is the Commander, his words are so inspiring… haha… we must fight all the way to Tokyo, let the little devils taste the flavor of bombs made in our China.
Alright… I’m descending altitude, pay attention to filming.”
As he spoke, he pushed the control stick, and the massive fuselage descended from 500 meters, almost skimming over the mountain ridges.
At this moment on the ground, a defensive line stretching from Xinxian eastward to east of Guoxian, dozens of kilometers long, was deeply etched into the Loess Plateau.
From high altitude, this defensive line looked like a deformed giant centipede with countless legs.
Its main body consisted of crisscrossing communication trenches and firing trenches several meters deep.
These trenches were densely packed like a spider web, extending forward in complex zigzag structures, effectively preventing damage from shell fragments and enfilading fire.
The inner walls of the trenches were reinforced with heavy logs and layered sandbags, and many places were covered with simple wooden planks to prevent becoming muddy in the rain.
Between the trenches and bunker clusters were more defensive facilities.
Layer upon layer of rusted barbed concertina wire coiled across the earth like steel thorns, covered with sharp barbs.
Between the barbed wire were carefully calculated minefields, countless anti-personnel and anti-tank mines buried quietly under the loose soil like venomous snake fangs, awaiting any life stepping into the area.
The entire defensive line was not just one layer. It had considerable defensive depth, forming a complete three-dimensional defense system with forward alert positions, main defensive positions, and rear reserve positions.
Guarding this steel defensive line were over 10,000 soldiers of the Japanese 24th Division.
However, more than a year of calm had quietly corroded these soldiers’ vigilance like rust.
As a B-class division, the 24th Division’s training and duties were not as strict as those of A-class divisions, nor was its discipline; things strictly forbidden in A-class divisions were overlooked by officers here.
In an observation post in the middle of the defensive line, Corporal Tanaka stretched lazily, let out a big yawn, and squeezed out a few physiological tears from the corners of his eyes.
He boredly scraped dirt from his nails with his bayonet, his eyes blankly staring at the unchanging barren yellow earth opposite.
In the trench behind him, several Japanese soldiers sat in a circle, intently gambling with a few worn hanafuda cards, occasionally emitting suppressed arguments and laughter.
Nearby, over a fire pit, foul-smelling miscellaneous grain porridge was boiling, and a cook was stirring it listlessly with a wooden spoon, humming a vulgar folk tune from his hometown.
Complacency and laxity spread like a plague along this seemingly impregnable defensive line.
To most Japanese soldiers, the Shanxi Militia opposite had neither the ability nor the courage to assault this defensive line carefully built by the Imperial Army over more than a year.
Life here was dull, but at least safe.
Yes, you heard right, the soldiers of the 24th Division thought exactly that.
The reason they harbored this illusion was that since occupying here, they had never truly engaged the Shanxi Militia, only sporadic small-scale skirmishes, leading to misconceptions about the Shanxi Militia.
Of course, not everyone was so lax.
Sergeant Ito, a short but fierce-eyed veteran, was pacing back and forth in the trench with heavy military boots.
He would occasionally kick dozing sentries or sternly berate gambling soldiers, forcing them to clean weapons and reinforce positions.
But his efforts were a drop in the bucket amid the pervasive laziness along the entire defensive line.
To the rear of this defensive line lay its true purpose—the Tongpu Railway.
Two cold rails ran like parallel silver threads from south to north, piercing through the heart of Shanxi.
It was not just a railway, but the economic artery and military lifeline of the Japanese forces in North China. Countless resources plundered from the rear were transported via this railway to eastern ports.
Countless troops and military supplies were also continuously delivered through this railway to various strongholds in Shanxi.
Once the Tongpu Railway was cut, it would be like strangling the throat of the 1st Army under Shizuka Yoshio, splitting the Japanese forces in Shanxi into eastern and western parts, each fighting independently in desperation.
Precisely for this reason, the Japanese spared no expense, deploying heavy troops to build this seemingly indestructible Xinxian-Guoxian defensive line.
“Buzz buzz buzz…” Just as Ito kicked a Japanese soldier’s butt hard, a low engine rumble came from the sky.
Japanese soldiers were no strangers to airplane sounds; over the past year, they saw Chinese planes reconnoitering them every few days, but Ito sensitively realized today’s plane seemed different.
“Baka… why is this Chinese plane flying so low today?”
Ito muttered.
In that moment, he saw the Chinese plane flying lower and lower, almost skimming treetops, brazenly reconnoitering them.
Unable to contain his anger, he grabbed a Type 38 rifle from the nearby trench and fired at the plane in the sky.
“Bang…”
The clear gunshot echoed through the valley, reverberating repeatedly.
This shot naturally couldn’t harm the plane above, but it startled Zhu Jin and the others still circling for photos.
The moment the gunshot rang out, he reflexively pulled the control stick, tilting the massive fuselage agilely to the right and climbing into the sky.
Seeing the plane above scared off by his shot, Ito laughed smugly, “Hahaha… cowardly Chinese, even their planes are so timid.”
At that moment, Ito felt possessed by Amaterasu, driving away a Chinese plane with one bullet. No one imagined this was the last time many would see a Chinese reconnaissance plane.
Two hours later
In a secret command post five kilometers from the Japanese positions, Su Yaoyang and Pi Ruoyu were flipping through photos just delivered by the reconnaissance squadron.
Pi Ruoyu held up the photos, looked for a moment, and said, “Commander, look, these are photos we took three months ago, these are the ones just taken today.
From the photos, the Japanese positions have hardly changed in the past half year; the Japanese seem very lax.
This confirms our judgment is correct.”
Su Yaoyang nodded: “The 24th Division is after all a B-class division; you can’t compare it to regular divisions.
But these good days should soon end. We must cripple or destroy the 24th Division within ten days, or once the 20th Division arrives in Shanxi to take over this defensive line, things won’t be as easy as now.”
“Yes.” Pi Ruoyu nodded, “That’s why we’re launching this offensive. All units are now assembling, the First and Second Armored Regiments have entered forward positions, the two artillery regiments, four infantry regiments, and air force are all ready. With one order, we can launch a full offensive against the Japanese.”
“Good!”
Su Yaoyang glanced at the photos in hand, “Then it’s settled. The general assault will begin at 5 a.m. tomorrow, launching a full offensive.”
“Yes!”
………..
The darkness on the eve of the general assault was thick and deathly still.
Along the long defensive line of the Japanese 24th Division, aside from a few stray murmurs in sleep and the whine of cold wind over barbed wire, all was silent.
They were immersed in the false sense of security woven from complacency and arrogance over the past year, unaware that in the darkness just a few kilometers opposite, over 20,000 eyes filled with killing intent were fixed on them.
When the clock pointed to 5 a.m., as the morning sun struggled over the horizon, casting the first faint, cold rays onto the defensive line stretching from east of Xinxian to Guoxian.
The silence was instantly shattered!
The Shanxi Militia artillery positions, silent for over a year, erupted in an earth-shattering roar in an instant!
No warning, no ranging shots!
Hundreds of large-caliber howitzers, field guns, and heavy mortars roared simultaneously! Clusters of dense black-and-white explosion smoke and blinding orange muzzle flashes lit up the artillery positions in the dawn light!
“Boom… boom boom boom boom…”
The dense cannonade was like a thunderstorm crashing from the heavens, instantly enveloping heaven and earth!
No longer distinguishable as individual shots, it became a continuous, impenetrable massive roar!
Countless shells whistled through the air with tearing shrieks or dull rumbles like passing trains, forming a net woven of steel and death, smashing down onto the Japanese positions!
In mere seconds!
The main defensive line outside Xinxian, of which the Japanese were so proud, was utterly engulfed! Blinding explosion points bloomed like evil flowers from hell across the Japanese positions!
Soaring black-red gun smoke and blasted earth instantly formed a dozens-of-meters-high, churning, filthy curtain, completely blocking the rising sun!
Unlike previous harassing barrages, today’s artillery fire was precise and concentrated, its intensity and density reaching an outrageous level!
In the smoke, countless red glows flashed—the fireballs from shell explosions. Deafening blasts continued unceasingly, like tens of thousands of giant firecrackers ignited at once, ravaging the Japanese trenches!
The Japanese in the trenches were caught completely off guard by this sudden, apocalyptic dense barrage!
Corporal Tanaka, asleep just a second ago, didn’t even have time to scream before a 155mm howitzer shell exploded on the bunker overhead! The horrific shockwave and hot blast poured in, pulverizing him and the other three soldiers inside—bones, flesh, and organs—into an indistinguishable sticky meat paste smeared across the bunker walls.
In an instant, the already unrecognizable positions were blasted into ruptured trenches! Solid concrete bunkers, directly hit by heavy artillery, shattered like cookies smashed by a hammer, with machine gunners and ammo inside detonating into soaring flames.
Crisscrossing trenches collapsed continuously in the violent explosions, countless running or dodging Japanese soldiers screamed as they were buried alive in loose, shard-mixed scalding earth, dying desperately in darkness and suffocation.
More Japanese truly experienced hell on earth.
Their eardrums ached from the thunderous roar, soon warm blood trickled from ears and noses. The ground beneath shook violently like a boat on stormy seas, preventing them from standing.
In a relatively intact trench segment, Sergeant Ito screamed hoarsely trying to organize defense, but his voice was instantly swallowed by the explosions, inaudible even to himself.
Right beside him, a young soldier was directly hit by an 82mm mortar shell falling into the trench!
“Pfft!”
Accompanied by a muffled sound.
The soldier’s body burst like a balloon filled with red paint! Flesh and blood flew, a leg still in a military boot blasted into the air, spinning down onto Ito’s helmet.
Shattered, still-warm organs and intestines mixed with foul bloody mud rained down on Ito!
The visible shockwave from the explosion swept like invisible floodwaters over every Japanese on the position!
In the trenches, surviving Japanese were all dazed by the blasts.
They huddled in corners, crouching low, pressing bodies tight against cold trench walls, arms clutching heads desperately. No one dared look up or move.
Fear invaded their marrow like the deepest chill.
This lavish, destructive barrage lasted over an hour.
One hour—for people in peacetime—might be just one TV episode or a lunch.
But for the Japanese 24th Division on the Xinxian front, this hour was the longest, most terrifying, most despairing hellish journey of their lives.
Su Yaoyang’s emphasis on artillery was demonstrated here in its unparalleled crushing power.
Over the past year, he not only developed the air force but imprinted the “firepower first” creed deeply into the militia’s construction.
The militia’s two main artillery regiments, equipped with over 160 U.S. M2 105mm howitzers and the “Long Tom” M1 155mm guns, were no pushovers.
These top-tier heavy guns of the era had astonishing range and destructive power.
Plus the numerous 107mm heavy rocket artillery and 82mm mortars organic to infantry regiments, totaling hundreds of guns!
In the past hour, these hundreds of guns had unleashed nearly 20,000 shells in a frenzied, cost-be-damned barrage onto the Japanese dozens-of-kilometers-long defensive line!
On average, over eight shells per second smashed onto the Japanese positions with death’s howl!
When this horrific steel storm finally ceased, everything the 24th Division prided itself on was gone.
The complex trenches that once gave them security were now just collapsed earth ditches.
The solid reinforced concrete bunkers were reduced to rubble and twisted rebar by heavy guns.
The barbed wire and minefields were completely cleared in this apocalyptic carpet bombing.
The entire defensive line was pockmarked like the lunar surface, utterly losing its original form. Half of the Japanese “true essence” forward positions were erased from the map.
When the cannonade abruptly stopped, the world fell into an eerie, ear-ringing silence.
On the positions, surviving Japanese soldiers crawled trembling from collapsed trenches, craters, and corpse piles like startled birds.
Their minds were dazed, many still trapped in the prior roar and shaking.
“Quick! Get up! The Chinese are coming! Machine guns! Where are the machine gunners!”
Surviving Japanese officers screamed hoarsely, kicking and buttstroking to reorganize the terrified soldiers.
Some soldiers mechanically set up usable Type 92 heavy machine guns, more dug barehanded at nearby buried earth piles, trying to pull out faintly breathing comrades.
But then, low, unique metallic “creaks” and engine rumbles came from the distant smoke.
The sounds grew nearer, clearer, louder, carrying an unstoppable, heart-pounding oppression.
All surviving Japanese instinctively paused and looked toward the sound.
They witnessed an unforgettable scene.
In the dawn glow and lingering smoke, massive earth-yellow camouflaged steel behemoths in neat assault formation rolled over the artillery-plowed land, advancing slowly but relentlessly toward their positions!
M4 “Sherman” medium tanks!
The tanks had rounded turrets, tall hulls, black muzzles of 75mm main guns staring coldly ahead like eyes of death.
Their tracks crunched over mud and rubble, as if chewing this land of death.
Around each tank clustered dozens of Shanxi Militia infantrymen in earth-yellow uniforms holding Thompson submachine guns and Garand rifles. They crouched, using tanks as mobile cover, advancing in sync with the tanks’ speed.
Not one or two, but dozens! Over a hundred!
The steel torrent of the First and Second Armored Regiments surged like unleashed beasts, an unstoppable iron flood delivering final judgment on the battered Japanese defensive line!
“T… tanks… Chinese tanks!”
A Japanese soldier let out a despairing scream filled with incredulous terror.
“Fire! Fire now! Stop them!” Sergeant Ito roared with all his strength, grabbing a Type 11 light machine gun and futilely firing at the approaching tanks.
“Da da da da…”
The light machine gun bullets struck the Sherman tank’s frontal armor, sparking only harmless pings, not even a white mark.
“Boom!”
A lead Sherman tank seemed provoked by Ito. Its turret slowly turned, locking onto Ito’s machine gun position. The muzzle flashed, sending a high-explosive shell whistling out!
The shell landed precisely beside the machine gun position, the violent explosion hurling Ito, his gun, and nearby soldiers into the air as shattered flesh.
This was like a signal.
All Sherman tanks began precisely and efficiently targeting and eliminating any resisting fire points with main guns and coaxial machine guns.
“Boom!”
“Boom!”
“Boom!”
75mm high-explosive blasts echoed, easily destroying remaining fire points.
The vehicle-mounted 12.7mm Browning heavy machine guns spat deadly tongues of fire, mowing down approaching Japanese soldiers in swaths.
