Chapter 231: Open Scheme
Xincounty battlefield, a position halfway up the mountainside.
This was a breastwork defensive position built by the Japanese army, but at this moment, inside and outside the position had already turned into a veritable Asura field.
Scattered corpses, in various twisted poses, covered the entire battlefield. There were Shanxi militia soldiers, as well as Japanese soldiers.
Severed arms, broken legs, chests blown open, headless torsos… all mixed together, indistinguishable from one another.
A few surviving warhorses had their bellies sliced open by shrapnel, dragging their bloody intestines, futilely circling in the pile of dead bodies, emitting shrill wails.
Amid those already stiff corpses, faint and painful groans continued to come, from the wounded who had not yet died completely, bidding their final farewell to this world.
“First Company, Second Company, defend in place! Third Company! Third Company, immediately search for the wounded! Hurry and send down all the injured brothers from Second Battalion!”
Fourth Regiment Second Battalion Commander Li Qingxiang stood on the pile of corpses, shouting loudly in a hoarse voice.
He had just been transferred from First Regiment to Fourth Regiment not long ago. Looking at those still standing First Regiment soldiers covered in blood, his eyes instantly reddened, hot tears swirling in his sockets, but he forcibly held them back.
The battle just now had been too fierce.
This position had treacherous terrain; Sherman tanks couldn’t come up, and heavy artillery couldn’t provide effective fire support due to shooting dead angles.
The Japanese elite company garrisoned here resisted to the death relying on the position. His First Company had almost filled it up with lives, explosive packs, and grenades, paying a huge price in casualties to finally pull out this nail.
A blood-soaked soldier numbly stood up from the pile of corpses. He blankly stared at the blood and flesh quagmire in front of him composed of comrades and enemies, suddenly clutching his head in pain, emitting a beast-like roar.
He stepped down with one foot, feeling something soft and mushy underfoot. Looking down, he realized he was stepping on an arm clad in gray military uniform, severed at the elbow.
The fingers of that severed arm were still slightly curled, as if grasping something.
Tears could no longer be held back, streaming down from his face smeared with gunpowder and bloodstains, unrecognizable in appearance.
He completely failed to notice that a large chunk of flesh had also been shaved off his left arm by shrapnel, with the rolled-back skin and flesh revealing white bone clearly visible, trembling slightly with his sobs.
“Bro… bro… give… give me a shot…”
Not far from him, under a pile of intertwined corpses, came intermittent, faint groans.
That familiar voice with a heavy Shaanxi accent struck the crying soldier like a thunderbolt.
He jerked his head up, scrambling over on hands and knees, crazily pushing away the already ice-cold Japanese corpse on top.
Under the corpse was his comrade, also his fellow villager.
That comrade’s waist had been blown open by a shell into a huge gash, completely severed.
White, steaming-hot intestines flowed out from the gash, mixed with mud and blood, dragging several meters across the ground.
Seeing his comrade in such a miserable state, the blood-soaked soldier’s mind went blank. Instinctively, he wanted to pick him up.
“Ah…!”
As soon as he exerted force, the soldier in his arms let out a shrill, inhuman scream, his body convulsing violently.
The soldier was startled and quickly loosened his grip, but didn’t dare let go completely.
“Bro… I… I miss home…”
The soldier in his arms used his last bit of strength to squeeze out a few words from his throat, blood surging continuously from the corner of his mouth.
“Give him a couple more painkiller shots! He’s beyond saving.”
A passing medic saw this scene, walked over reluctantly, and softly reminded him with helpless kindness.
This sentence completely snapped the string called reason in the soldier’s heart.
“Get lost…”
He whipped his head around, his bloodshot eyes glaring at the medic like a man-eating beast, filled with intense killing intent.
“Stretcher! Hurry and bring the stretcher! Stretcher…”
He roared hoarsely at his surroundings, then lowered his head again, holding the rapidly cooling body in his arms with near-mad tenderness, sobbing uncontrollably.
“Brother, we’ll go home… Bro will take you home… Bro will send you home… Send you back to our hometown… We’ll go back to Shaanxi… Back to our Shaanxi home…”
His cries, mixed with promises and despair, echoed across this battlefield of death.
Li Qingxiang walked over, looked at the soldier crying his heart out, and let out a long sigh.
In the battle just now, their Second Battalion had over a hundred casualties, more than forty killed on the spot, over thirty seriously wounded, and the remaining wounded wouldn’t recover for months.
He patted the soldier and said: “This brother can’t be saved anymore. Give him a quick end. Don’t you have morphine? Give this brother a painkiller shot!”
“Painkiller shot… I still have a painkiller shot…”
Hearing the term again, the soldier came to a sudden realization, like grasping the last straw, and hurriedly dumped everything from the blood-soaked canvas medical kit at his waist onto the purple-black bloodstained mud beside him.
A roll of yellowed gauze, a small bottle of iodine, a few packets of hemostatic powder…
“Painkiller shot… where’s the painkiller shot…” He muttered blankly, his hands covered in blood and mud frantically rummaging through the scattered medical supplies, his nails filled with dark red clots.
Finally, he found a flat little paper box. Trembling, he opened it and took out a metal tube like a small toothpaste tube.
This was a disposable morphine injector, also an emergency medicine redeemed by Su Yaoyang, with one in every soldier’s medical kit.
Mainly for pain relief for the wounded, it also had another use: for those heavy wounded with no hope of survival, as a final mercy to make their last moments less painful.
This morphine tube contained 32 milligrams of morphine, sealed at the mouth with tinfoil, with a double-headed needle at the front.
To use, simply press down hard on the needle to pierce the internal sealing membrane, then inject under the skin of the wounded and squeeze the tube to complete the injection.
Sure enough, after one dose of morphine, the previously struggling wounded gradually relaxed, and a few minutes later, with his relaxing body, he stopped breathing…
………..
In the main hall of the command post, Su Yaoyang sat alone behind the desk in front of the map.
His face showed no joy of a great victory, only deep exhaustion and unconcealable heartache.
A casualty report just compiled and delivered by the staff department lay quietly before him.
Each of those cold black numbers on it represented a once-vibrant life with family.
His slender fingers gently picked up the thin sheet of paper, his gaze sweeping over the total figures, and he let out a helpless long sigh.
His right hand loosened weakly, and the report bearing the shattering of countless families floated lightly back onto the desk like a falling leaf.
“Just one day’s time…”
He murmured softly to himself, his voice full of regret.
“And over a thousand casualties!”
Su Yaoyang’s heart couldn’t help but twitch, even the corners of his eyes twitching uncontrollably.
The Shanxi militia, after nearly two years of his painstaking efforts in recruiting and gathering talent everywhere, now totaled only three or four thousand men at most.
This was already the best he could do.
And this time, to achieve complete victory in one stroke and thoroughly cripple the Japanese 24th Division, he had almost committed everything.
The offensive he personally commanded mobilized four infantry regiments, two tank regiments, and two heavy artillery regiments—two-thirds of the militia’s assets.
He knew this was a desperate gamble.
He had to exchange the fastest speed and huge casualties for a swift, decisive victory.
Because he knew very well that if delayed, once the Japanese 20th Division arrived from the flank, his troops would be caught in a pincer attack, and the situation would be ten times harder than now!
Just as Su Yaoyang felt heartbroken over the huge casualties, hurried footsteps came from outside the door.
“Commander-in-Chief! Urgent telegram from the Fifth War Zone!”
A communications staff officer hurried in, handing over a just-received telegram with both hands.
Fifth War Zone? Li Zongren and Bai Chongxi?
Su Yaoyang was slightly stunned, a trace of doubt flashing in his mind.
These two were his benefactors, partners, and backers in the military.
A telegram at this time—could it be congratulations on the victory, or offering some support?
He reached out to take the telegram and unfolded the thin telegram paper.
However, when his gaze swept over the few short lines on the telegram, the fatigue and sorrow on his face vanished instantly without a trace.
In their place was extreme, incredulous shock, then… volcanic, sky-high rage!
“Bastards…”
A thunderous roar exploded from his throat, shaking the beams of the entire command post!
“Pa…”
He slammed the telegram onto the desk fiercely, cracking the solid rosewood surface with a clear split!
He shot to his feet; from extreme anger, his chest heaved violently, his face turning from red to green, then green to white.
That telegram was a “request” jointly sent by Li Zongren and Bai Chongxi, approved by the Military and Political Department.
The telegram’s content was grand and lofty: first congratulating his Xincounty victory, then turning to the tense Yichang situation and insufficient forces in the Fifth War Zone. For the sake of the overall war effort, it “requested” him to immediately detach two to four infantry regiments and part of the air force to rush to the aid of the Fifth War Zone…
At this moment, Su Yaoyang understood everything.
《L’Impartial》《Shenbao》 and other newspapers’ flattery, Yan Xishan’s abnormal silence, and now this irrefusable “request” from Li and Bai.
All the clues linked into a complete chain in this instant!
This was a conspiracy… no… this was an open scheme to roast him over the fire.
This was to draw away his elite forces at the most critical moment!
“Old Yan from Shanxi… what a vicious move!”
Su Yaoyang gnashed his teeth, squeezing out this name through clenched teeth…
