Chapter 260: Fierce Battle On The Periphery
The bell tower headquarters inside Yichang City had now become a high-speed war heart in rapid operation.
Seven or eight telephones were scattered in various corners of the headquarters, with ringing sounds rising and falling one after another, like urgent commands.
More than a dozen staff officers had long lost their usual composure; they were drenched in sweat, rushing back and forth between the sand table and maps, loudly answering, recording, and relaying the latest battle reports from every corner of the front line.
The air was filled with the tense smell of sweat, the thick scent of tobacco, and the faint smell of gunpowder drifting in from outside the window.
“Report! The left wing of Position No. 3 has been breached! Regiment Commander Huang Guantao requests artillery support!”
“Armor First Regiment reports that their reconnaissance company has destroyed another Type 92 infantry gun; one Caquot tank’s tracks are damaged and under repair!”
“West City Gate observation post reports that a small Japanese unit is attempting to infiltrate from the field ridges; Third Regiment First Battalion is driving them out!”
Su Yaoyang sat at the center of this clamor and chaos. He was seated on an ordinary wooden stool, his back straight, his face stern as iron.
The rumbling cannon fire from outside the city, like muffled drumbeats, constantly struck at everyone’s nerves, but he seemed deaf to it, his eyes fixed intently on the huge makeshift sand table in front of him.
Don’t think that at the pre-battle mobilization meeting, Su Yaoyang seemed disdainful of the approaching Sixth Division, his words full of confidence in victory.
But that was ultimately just for others to hear, to boost morale. In fact, Su Yaoyang’s heart was far from as relaxed as he appeared on the surface.
As a traverser from the future, he knew better than anyone in this era what the four words “Sixth Division” represented.
Postwar historians and military enthusiasts, when debating which Japanese Army division was the strongest during World War II, did not have a unified opinion.
Some praised the Second Division from Sendai, while others staunchly supported the Sixth Division from Kumamoto.
But no matter the ranking, the Sixth Division was undoubtedly the cream of the crop in the Japanese Army, the elite of the elites, with its tenacious combat will and superb tactical proficiency, almost the pinnacle representative of the Japanese forces.
In the Nanjing Defense Battle three years ago, the reason the Sixth Division was beaten so badly, losing nearly half its strength, was fundamentally because Su Yaoyang, this “unscrupulous” guy, at the most critical moment, used sarin gas produced from the matter converter, catching the enemy off guard, and barely achieved that seemingly glorious victory.
But anyone who underestimated the reorganized Sixth Division because of this would be making a grave mistake.
Now, when the Shanxi Militia Group and this vengeful Sixth Division were squarely facing off under Yichang City for a head-on field battle, Su Yaoyang immediately felt that suffocating pressure.
The battle had been in a white-hot state from the very beginning.
The Sixth Division demonstrated its extremely high tactical coordination ability.
They first used the Army Air Force’s Zero fighter group to pin down Cheng Rufeng’s Pirate Air Group, temporarily suppressing air superiority.
Immediately after, the division’s subordinate Sixth Artillery Regiment seized this precious window, pushing all its equipped thirty-six Meiji 41st Type 75mm field guns and over a dozen Type 92 infantry guns to the front line, and began fierce bombardment on the outermost defensive positions of the Shanxi Militia Group.
For a moment, shells fell like raindrops, enveloping the entire position in explosive firelight and churned earth.
But the Shanxi Militia Group was no longer what it used to be.
Facing the Japanese artillery fire, Su Yaoyang showed no weakness and immediately ordered his artillery units to counterattack.
The two full battalions of M101 105mm howitzers, produced by the matter converter and deployed in the rear positions, let out muffled roars of anger.
These heavy guns, which comprehensively crushed the Japanese 75mm mountain guns in range, power, and rate of fire, unleashed thunderous might, pouring tons of steel and flames onto the Japanese artillery positions.
The two sides’ artillery engaged in a brutal duel across several kilometers. Shells crisscrossed in the air, blooming death flowers on each other’s positions.
The scene was bloody to the extreme from the start.
An operations staff officer quickly approached Su Yaoyang, his face showing anxiety.
After standing at attention and saluting, he pointed to their frontline position under heavy bombardment on the sand table and loudly suggested: “The Sixth Division’s artillery fire is extremely fierce, and their gun positions are highly dispersed; the 105mm howitzer battalion has trouble locking on. I suggest immediately deploying the full strength of our artillery regiment.
Pull up the remaining two 155mm howitzer battalions, target the Japanese artillery positions, and launch a decisive counterattack! Strive to annihilate their artillery regiment in one go!”
This staff officer’s suggestion represented the views of a considerable portion of the headquarters. In their view, since they had a firepower advantage, they should unhesitatingly exploit it and smash the enemy with absolute power.
However, after hearing this, Su Yaoyang just slowly shook his head, his gaze still fixed on the sand table.
“No.” His voice was not loud, but firm.
“But if we let the Japanese artillery continue rampaging, I’m afraid the casualties on the outer defensive line will increase!” the operations staff officer said urgently.
Su Yaoyang looked up at him, his eyes extremely calm.
“I know.”
He paused, then said in an unquestionable tone: “War always claims lives. Order the artillery regiment: the two 155mm heavy howitzer battalions continue to lurk and stand by.
I believe the 105mm howitzer battalion is sufficient to handle this Japanese artillery regiment.”
Seeing the staff officer still wanting to say something, another operations staff officer nearby gently pulled him and shook his head at him.
Though puzzled, the staff officer could only salute helplessly and withdraw.
Of course Su Yaoyang knew that if he pulled out those two battalions of M1 155mm howitzers now, with their longer range and more terrifying power, there was a high chance of knocking out the entire Japanese artillery regiment in a short time.
But he could not do that.
Revealing all his trump cards at the start was the kind of stupid thing only a gambler would do.
He was no military genius, but he remembered Marshal Lin’s famous saying most clearly: No matter how smoothly the battle goes, always keep a reserve force that you absolutely won’t use unless absolutely necessary.
This reserve force is your confidence for turning the tables.
Though he was no military genius, he always believed that for things he didn’t understand or wasn’t sure about, following the experts was never wrong.
And now, his 155mm howitzer battalions were one of the “trump cards” he had prepared for this great battle. It was far from time to use them.
The battlefield situation indeed developed as Su Yaoyang had foreseen.
The brutal artillery battle lasted about half an hour.
In this pure contest of firepower, range, and rate of fire, the Japanese Sixth Artillery Regiment was comprehensively crushed from start to finish by the Shanxi Militia Group’s 105mm howitzer battalion.
The Meiji 41st Type 75mm field gun was far inferior to the M101 105mm howitzer in both maximum range and shell power.
The Japanese artillerymen, most of the time, could only passively endure precise strikes from beyond their range. Their proud precise gunnery appeared pale and powerless in the face of absolute technological superiority.
105mm shells whistled in continuously, accurately landing on the Japanese artillery positions. The massive shockwaves from explosions and flying shrapnel tore the Type 41 mountain guns to pieces, scattering parts everywhere; the Japanese artillerymen at the gun positions were shredded in droves.
Soon, after paying over a third of their guns and nearly half their personnel in heavy losses, the Japanese artillery regiment commander could no longer endure this one-sided slaughter and unwillingly ordered a ceasefire, commanding the remaining gun teams to immediately shift positions.
The Japanese artillery falling silent immediately triggered a chain reaction.
The Japanese infantry at the front line, braving the Shanxi Militia Group’s machine gun fire net and preparing to charge, suddenly found that artillery support from the rear had stopped.
Without artillery cover, they were completely exposed to the Shanxi Militia Group’s interlocking fire net. In an instant, long-prepared heavy machine guns, mortars, and rifles began madly pouring bullet rain.
The attacking Japanese infantry fell in swaths like harvested wheat, their casualty numbers skyrocketing.
With the Japanese artillery silenced, the protagonists on the main battlefield shifted back from whistling shells to flesh-and-blood infantry.
In the suburbs of Yichang City, in a trench repeatedly plowed by artillery and reinforced overnight by engineers, Zhang Wenshan was half-crouching behind a shelter, cautiously observing ahead with binoculars poking out half his head.
Through the lenses, a hundred meters away, Japanese infantry were advancing toward them in standard skirmish lines, providing alternating cover, their movements proficient.
Their actions were very professional: always someone moving, always someone providing fire cover, showing no signs of collapse despite losing artillery support.
“Don’t fire yet! Let the Japanese get closer before shooting!”
Zhang Wenshan lowered the periscope and commanded in a low voice to the riflemen nearby, “No one’s to fire without my order—don’t waste bullets!”
His soldiers were all veterans; upon hearing this, they silently checked their M1 Garand rifles, then withdrew the muzzles from the firing ports and patiently waited.
Zhang Wenshan turned his head and gestured to the two BAR light machine gunners beside him.
“Er Lengzi… Zhuzi! You two, fire at will! Pick them off for me! Change position after one magazine—don’t let the Japanese grenade launchers spot you! 」
“Got it, platoon leader!”
The two machine gunners grinned and immediately shouldered their Browning Automatic Rifles （BAR）.
Though this weapon lacked the sustained fire of heavy machine guns, it excelled in portability and flexibility, operable by one person, perfect for guerrilla tactics in trenches.
“Da-da-da… da-da-da-da…”
The two BAR light machine guns successively emitted crisp, powerful bursts. Bullets accurately swept toward the moving Japanese; a Japanese soldier poking half his body from a crater had two blood flowers burst from his chest and fell backward.
The Japanese formation was immediately disrupted; several grenade launcher men quickly prone and began searching for the BAR fire sources.
But Er Lengzi and Zhuzi had already, after a short burst, hunched over and swiftly moved to another firing position dozens of meters away.
While the Japanese attention was drawn to the elusive light machine guns, Zhang Wenshan took a deep breath and roared to the signalman behind him:
“Tell company HQ! I need heavy machine gun support! Coordinates Demon Cave Bend Three! Hit them hard for me!”
The order quickly reached the rear heavy machine gun positions via phone line. The next second, the roar of the Grim Reaper echoed across the position.
“Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump!”
Three M2 Browning heavy machine guns deployed on the rear high ground simultaneously unleashed muffled, terrifying roars.
This sound was completely different from the Japanese “Type 11” or Type 92 heavy machine guns’ ripping “da-da-da”—more like a giant’s heartbeat, each shot brimming with destructive power.
12.7mm heavy machine gun bullets, with visible tracers, formed two crisscrossing, scorching fire whips that viciously lashed the Japanese assault route!
This was completely an unequal slaughter.
Bullets hitting the ground kicked up clumps of dirt and grass; hitting shelters punched through sandbags.
And once hitting a human body… that soldier’s body would shatter like a watermelon smashed by a sledgehammer—arms, legs, even the entire upper body torn apart and flung by the horrific kinetic energy.
Under the absolute suppression of the M2 heavy machine guns, the Japanese firepower seemed utterly pathetic and laughable.
Their Type 38 rifles and “Type 11” light machine guns desperately returned fire, but bullets hitting the reinforced Shanxi Militia Group positions only sparked powerless sparks and dust.
They were pinned dead in place, unable even to raise their heads. Any attempt to move or return fire immediately drew focused attention from those two death whips.
Zhang Wenshan coldly watched all this, watching those Japanese soldiers who had been aggressive moments ago being slaughtered in droves under heavy machine gun fire, casualty numbers visibly skyrocketing.
Just as the Japanese infantry were pinned down by the Shanxi Militia Group’s powerful interlocking fire, unable to lift their heads, with corpses piling higher at the position front, the battlefield balance was broken by a sudden explosion.
“Boom! Boom!”
On the left flank friendly position, several fireballs mixed with black smoke suddenly erupted!
Immediately, a heart-wrenching shout spread through the trenches via soldiers’ word-of-mouth, quickly reaching Zhang Wenshan’s ears: “Platoon leader! Bad news! Japanese tanks! Japanese tanks are coming from the left!”
Zhang Wenshan’s heart sank sharply; he immediately turned to look. In the side-front of the left wing position, over a dozen earth-yellow camouflaged, low-profile Type 97 medium tanks, belching black smoke, charged toward the position at not-fast but unstoppable speed!
These steel beasts charged while their short, thick 57mm tank guns on the turrets constantly fired, smashing shells into their trenches, kicking up clouds of smoke and dust. The three 7.7mm machine guns on the tank hull and turret also madly spat flames; in an instant, the originally firepower-superior left position was caught off guard and instantly silenced.
“Heavy machine guns! Turn the barrels! Hit the tanks!” a company commander bellowed loudly.
The three M2 Browning heavy machine guns firing at the front infantry immediately laboriously swung their heavy barrels toward the charging Japanese tanks.
“Thump-thump-thump-thump-thump…”
In the muffled gunfire, 12.7mm bullet chains madly swept over, slamming into the frontal armor of the Type 97 tanks.
However, a despairing scene unfolded.
Due to the still-distant range and haste, the machine gunners had no time to switch to armor-piercing rounds.
Ordinary machine gun rounds hitting the sloped tank armor only sparked dazzling sparks and clanging noises, inflicting no substantial damage on these thick-skinned iron turtles.
Seeing this, the Japanese tank crews grew even more arrogant. Seizing the chance, they precisely picked off targets with tank guns.
“Boom…”
A 57mm shell accurately hit a heavy machine gun position; the violent explosion directly hurled that precious M2 heavy machine gun along with its two gunners into the air, reduced to scattered blood, flesh, and steel parts.
In the blink of an eye, several heavy machine guns were destroyed this way. Without heavy firepower suppression, the left wing position was about to be torn open with a huge gap.
“Anti-tank guns… anti-tank guns…” someone shouted loudly.
Just as Zhang Wenshan was burning with anxiety, even drawing his pistol to lead men in a desperate bundle grenade charge, a more powerful, vigorous engine roar came from their rear!
The ground began to shake!
Over a dozen M4 Sherman tanks, far taller and more imposing than the Type 97s, tracks churning, kicking up rolling dust, burst from the rear reserve positions! It was the timely arrival of Armor Battalion Second Battalion, just resupplied with ammo!
“Our tanks!” The soldiers in the trenches erupted in earth-shaking cheers.
John’s crew was among this reinforcement. Through the periscope, he looked at those Type 97 tanks that seemed like cheap toys to him, a cold smile curling his lips.
“Gunner! Target straight ahead, enemy tanks! Armor-piercing, one round!”
“Loaded!”
“Six hundred meters, fire!”
“Boom…”
The Sherman tank’s slender 76mm main gun recoiled sharply; an armor-piercing round, at supersonic speed trailing a faint path, precisely struck the turret front of the lead Type 97 tank.
No suspense.
The Type 97 tank’s thin armor was fragile as paper before the high-velocity penetrator.
The round easily penetrated, detonating ammo inside the tank.
The next second, the Type 97 tank’s turret was blasted into the air by the massive internal explosion, spinning as it fell; the hull became a roaring massive torch.
This was just the beginning.
The Sherman tank group versus the Japanese tanks was a one-sided technical slaughter.
“Target locked… fire!”
“Fire!”
Accompanied by muffled cannon blasts, one Type 97 tank after another was precisely targeted, destroyed, and detonated.
The Japanese tank crews horrifiedly discovered that their 57mm shells mostly ricocheted harmlessly off the Sherman frontal armor, while the enemy’s shells effortlessly sent them to the afterlife.
After just minutes of engagement, this Japanese tank battalion, leaving over ten burning, exploding wrecks, had its survivors abandon bushido spirit in panic, turning tail and fleeing rearward in abject rout.
After the Japanese tanks retreated, the armor battalion did not let them off, instead launching a countercharge against the Japanese.
If it were ordinary Japanese troops, seeing a tank cluster charging would likely collapse, but the Sixth Division Japanese grew even crazier.
Japanese soldiers rushed from cover hugging satchel charges, attempting to take the Sherman tanks down with them.
“Fire… fire… don’t let those Japanese monkeys near our tanks, damn it, 356, are your eyes all blind?” Holder cursed loudly into the radio microphone.
Explosions of satchel charges boomed around nonstop; the violent blasts even made Holder inside the tank uncomfortable.
Since his tuberculosis was cured, he had come to Armor Second Regiment First Company as company commander upon discharge.
Now, he was leading his company at the forefront of the charge.
His view rapidly scanned the narrow periscope field, capturing every fleeting detail on the battlefield.
Suddenly, he shouted: “Loader! Switch to high-explosive! Prepare to bombard the slope two hundred meters to the right—I suspect Japanese grenade launchers there!”
Having been in China for nearly half a year, Holder could now perfectly pronounce “little Japs.”
“Roger!” came the loader’s muffled response through the headset.
The driver maneuvered the tank, brutally smashing through a crumbling earthen wall.
Stones and dirt piles were as fragile as cookies before the tank’s steel body.
The tracks swiftly crushed a Japanese soldier just downed by the coaxial machine gun; that still-warm body was instantly mashed into unrecognizable meat paste mixed with uniform fragments.
Witnessing this, Holder gritted his teeth and cursed: “Oh… damn Li Xiaoming, can you drive the tank a bit gentler? Don’t make it so bloody… urp…”
Though Holder had seen such bloody scenes many times, he still couldn’t get used to them.
“Company commander!”
The gunner Wang Dazhu’s voice suddenly came through the headset, trembling slightly from the tank’s vibration but tone remarkably calm: “Don’t overthink it. With these beasts, no reasoning—just crush them.
Look at Regiment Commander John; this stuff doesn’t faze him at all.”
“Damn it, don’t mention that bastard in front of me,” Holder cursed: “You know what this guy did before? Hauled corpses—no wonder he has no reaction.” He utterly despised this old comrade of decades.
Forgetting to switch channels, his words broadcast over the company net, soon eliciting low chuckles over the radio.
Wang Dazhu, stubborn as ever, earnestly explained.
“Company commander… the little Japs aren’t human; they’re rabid dogs.
Reason with a rabid dog, and it’ll bite harder. The only way is a thicker stick to beat it dead.
Our tanks are our thickest stick.”
Simple, bloody logic often impacts the heart more than any lengthy discourse.
Holder paused, then gave a wry smile. Yes, on such a bloody, cruel battlefield, pondering philosophy and humanity was foolish in itself.
Suddenly, in that distracted instant, a lethal glint flashed from a right-front machine gun position bombed to its frame!
“Boom…”
A deafening roar rocked Holder’s Sherman tank sharply to the left! An armor-piercing round struck the turret side at a tricky angle!
The armor held, but the horrific kinetic energy transmitted fully inside.
The hull emitted a teeth-grinding metallic wail; sparks flew at the impact! Everyone inside was jolted senseless; Holder’s head slammed hard into the periscope eyeguard, stars bursting before his eyes.
“Enemy attack! Anti-tank gun! Three o’clock! That ruined position!”
Holder bellowed it out; the prior philosophizing vanished under adrenaline.
“Dog-dayed!”
The driver cursed and instinctively tried to turn the hull.
“Don’t move! Keep frontal!”
Holder roared to stop him, ordering the gunner: “Dazhu! Traverse turret! Three o’clock! Blast that ruin for me!”
“Understood!”
Wang Dazhu recovered from the shock, swiftly cranking the turret traverse; the heavy 76mm gun tube swung with vengeful fury toward the death-laden ruins.
“Target locked!”
“Fire!”
“Boom…”
The Sherman main gun thundered! A high-explosive shell trailed crimson, precisely burrowing into the ruins.
The next second, the entire ruin seemed squeezed and burst from within by an invisible hand.
The violent explosion obliterated the fragile structure; stones, dirt, parts, and human limbs hurled skyward in a massive fireball, then collapsed in a roar, burying the anti-tank gun position and its Japanese crew alive under the debris.
Holder clutched his ringing ears, peering through the periscope at the leveled ruins, exhaling a long, gunpowder-tinged breath.
Facing the tank battalion’s pressure, the main attacking Thirteenth Regiment finally buckled, halting the assault to withdraw.
But Holder wasn’t about to let them go.
“Sir, frontline sentries report the Japanese are retreating!”
Upon the infantry report, Holder unhesitatingly said: “Then what are you waiting for? Chase and kick their asses.”
“Understood!”
“Right… have the infantry keep up too; without flank protection, we’ll take big losses.”
