Chapter 288: Preparations
Wutaixian County, Shanxi Militia Headquarters.
Ever since the first explosion sounded over Taiyuan, this place had become the most tense nerve center of the entire Shanxi war zone.
The air was so heavy it seemed to drip water, the choking tobacco smell mixed with the scent of sweat, permeating every corner.
On the huge sand table, small flags representing both sides’ troops were interlocked like jagged teeth, and beside the sand table, two men had been standing for a long time.
Bai Chongxi, this battle-hardened veteran known as the “Little Zhuge,” could not hide the fatigue and anxiety on his face at this moment.
A cigarette clamped between his fingers was nearly burned to the end, his eyes fixed dead on the sand table, as if trying to discern the ever-changing air battle from those stationary models.
And Su Yaoyang beside him appeared even calmer.
Dressed in a neat uniform, he was impeccably groomed, somewhat out of place in this smoke-filled environment.
He did not smoke, just kept his hands behind his back, but the anxious expression in his eyes revealed that his heart was not at peace.
The floor under their feet was already littered with cigarette butts.
Due to the extremely solemn atmosphere, the entire headquarters was so quiet you could hear a pin drop; even the staff officers marking maps and answering phones deliberately lowered their voices, afraid to disturb these two supreme commanders who decided the life and death of hundreds of thousands.
Just as the two had turned this spacious command room into a misty fairyland, a rapid yet steady footsteps broke the silence.
A young staff officer hurried to the two men, stood at attention and saluted; he tried to suppress the excitement in his voice, but his bright eyes betrayed his inner ecstasy.
“Report to Commander-in-Chief… Regiment Commander!”
Bai Chongxi abruptly turned his head, and Su Yaoyang also cast an inquiring glance.
“The air battle is over!”
The staff officer’s voice trembled with excitement; he took a deep breath and reported loudly: “Our flying squadron has shot down a total of 38 Japanese aircraft of various types! We lost 5 fighters, three pilots died heroically, and the other two pilots parachuted successfully and have been rescued by the search and rescue team lurking nearby!”
Thirty-eight to five!
Hearing this brilliant battle result, the nerves of Bai Chongxi and Su Yaoyang, tense for hours, finally relaxed completely at this moment.
Bai Chongxi viciously stubbed out the long-extinguished cigarette butt in the ashtray full of ash, as if extinguishing all his anxiety along with it, then let out a long, long breath of turbid air.
Su Yaoyang also let out a long breath, a faint, satisfied arc at the corner of his mouth.
“Good… well fought!”
The suppressed emotions finally erupted; Bai Chongxi slammed the sand table in front of him, shaking the small flags representing the Japanese army.
He stood up excitedly, pacing back and forth beside the sand table; that usually steady face now flushed with long-absent color, his eyes gleaming with excitement.
“This battle can declare that the Japanese air power in Shanxi has been largely destroyed by us!”
He paced back and forth, somewhat exhilarated, “Now, the force stopping us from bombing has been greatly reduced; we can go all out and bomb those Japanese turtle-shell-like ground defense positions inch by inch!”
However, Su Yaoyang standing beside him just calmly shook his head; he extended his finger and lightly pointed at a point on the sand table representing the core fortifications of Taiyuan’s city defenses.
“Jianguo, we can’t be too optimistic yet.”
His voice was not loud, but it clearly reached everyone’s ears.
“Bomber aircraft alone cannot completely destroy the elaborate Japanese fortifications and bunker clusters.
The final decisive battle still has to rely on infantry holding guns, seizing inch by inch of land.
What we can do now is use aircraft and heavy artillery to grind down and clean out as much of the Japanese exposed defensive forces as possible.”
Su Yaoyang lifted his gaze from the sand table, sweeping over the staff officers around him who were listening intently:
“Pass my orders: First, intensify aerial reconnaissance to scout all terrain, roads, and troop deployments within a hundred kilometers around Taiyuan, draw them into maps. I don’t want vague intelligence; I want it precise down to every bunker and every trench!”
“Second, immediately order the ground forces to speed up their march across the board! Before nightfall, they must reach the predetermined attack positions on the outskirts of Taiyuan, and completely surround the east, south, and north sides of Taiyuan!”
Bai Chongxi walked to the sand table, looking at Su Yaoyang’s deployments, a gleam of approval in his eyes.
“Surround on three sides and leave one open, the classic open stratagem for sieging a city since ancient times.”
He nodded, a playful smile on his face, “I want to see what Yoshio Koshizuka will do?
Will he choose to defend Taiyuan to the death, be trapped and starved by us? Or cut off his arm and abandon the city to flee? Or perhaps…”
Bai Chongxi’s gaze became profound and icy, “…mobilize all mobile forces in Shanxi to engage my army in a real bloody fight under Taiyuan?”
While Bai Chongxi and Su Yaoyang were laying a dragnet for Taiyuan’s Yoshio Koshizuka in the Wutaixian County headquarters, the atmosphere in the Japanese First Army headquarters in Taiyuan had already chilled to the freezing point.
A communications staff officer rushed in pale-faced, his military cap askew; he even forgot to adjust his appearance at the door, scrambling on hands and knees to kneel before Yoshio Koshizuka, his voice trembling like a leaf in the wind.
“Com… Commander! The… 60th Flying Brigade… communications… completely cut off… According to the last intelligence… most of the 60th Flying Brigade has perished in honorable death, only Tetsuji Yima and six fighters retreated.”
The word “perished in honorable death” hit every Japanese officer in the headquarters like a heavy hammer. The air froze instantly; everyone stopped what they were doing, looking in horror at their commander.
However, Yoshio Koshizuka’s reaction was unexpectedly calm.
He just sat quietly in his seat, his face showing no ripple, as if he had long anticipated this outcome.
He was already accustomed to the failures of the Army Air Service; after all, over the past year or so, he had grown used to their repeated defeats.
He never foolishly pinned the hopes of victory on those boastful Army Air Service fools.
His hopes, from beginning to end, rested on the solid ground beneath his feet, on the sturdy fortifications and steel defense lines built inch by inch with the blood and sweat of countless imperial warriors over the past few years, on the tens of thousands of elite, battle-hardened ground troops in his hands.
He forcibly suppressed the fleeting disappointment and unease deep in his heart, and with a nearly cold composure, slowly stood up from his seat.
His sharp gaze swept over his subordinates in the headquarters, their faces drained of color by fear; his voice was not loud, but carried an unquestionable authority.
“What panic? When has the glory of the Imperial Army ever been defended by planes in the sky?”
He walked to the huge Taiyuan defense map and heavily tapped the densely packed red defense markers with his baton.
“Order all garrison units to immediately strengthen ground defenses! All frontline positions enter highest combat readiness! Artillery units prepare for counter-battery fire; the Chinese planes are just tickling us!”
Yoshio Koshizuka’s composure acted like a shot of adrenaline, temporarily steadying the panicked hearts in the headquarters.
He turned around, looking at the sky outside the window that had been “cleared,” a stubborn and mad curve at the corner of his mouth.
He did not believe that the so-called Shanxi Militia could occupy his painstakingly fortified, impregnable Taiyuan City just with some tin cans flying in the sky!
………..
Dozens of kilometers outside Taiyuan City, in a carefully surveyed, concealed valley, a massive convoy came to an emergency halt amid billowing dust.
The vehicle door was flung open; a burly, dark-skinned officer jumped down from the passenger seat—it was the Second Artillery Regiment commander of the militia, Xiong Junfeng.
No sooner had he landed than, without even brushing off the dust, he put his hands on his hips and unleashed a thunderous roar at the convoy that had just stopped.
“Hurry! Hurry up! All of you, get moving, damn it!”
He pointed at the valley ahead embraced by the mountains, spittle flying, “All units, immediately set up artillery positions and camouflage them.
The anti-aircraft battalion and infantry battalion’s defenses and anti-air positions must also be set up simultaneously.
In half an hour… that is, before 12:48 noon, I want to see a fully camouflaged artillery position ready to fire immediately! Got it? Move faster!”
“Yes!”
In the valley, over a thousand soldiers responded in unison, their voices shaking the wilderness.
With the order given, the entire convoy instantly came alive, transforming into a high-speed precision war machine. Soldiers jumped off the trucks like ants, busying themselves in an orderly manner.
The heavy truck tailgates clanged down, and one after another ferocious 155mm M1 howitzers were carefully unloaded from the vehicles amid winch sounds and soldiers’ chants.
These steel behemoths weighing several tons seemed to come alive in the soldiers’ hands.
The gun crews worked with clear divisions: some used engineer shovels to quickly dig spades pits and wheel pits at the predetermined gun positions.
Others jointly unfolded the two sturdy gun carriages; with a loud “clank,” the massive spade was slammed into the ground, shifting the artillery from traveling mode to combat-ready firing state.
At the same time, anti-aircraft battalion soldiers on the high ground around the position were setting up quadruple anti-aircraft machine guns and Bofors 40mm anti-aircraft guns, their black muzzles vigilantly pointing at the sky.
The infantry battalion soldiers built a circular defensive position further out, with machine guns, mortars, and barbed wire guarding the entire artillery position like an iron barrel.
Huge camouflage nets were unfurled one by one, enveloping the entire valley in mottled shadows.
And on the entire position, the most grueling and awe-inspiring scene was undoubtedly the ammunition handling.
One by one, shirtless gunners wearing only army pants and boots revealed bronze, granite-hard muscles.
They carried heavy wooden ammo crates down from the ammunition trucks.
This was no easy task: a 155mm high-explosive shell, along with its propellant cartridge, weighed at least 45 kilograms, up to 50; each ammo crate held just one such precious item.
A single truck carried at least several tons, up to over ten tons of shells.
The gunners worked in pairs, gritting their teeth, veins bulging from necks to arms, hoisting the ammo crates onto their shoulders and rapidly carrying them to the ammo stacks beside each gun position.
Sweat streamed down their dark backs like creeks, carving channels in the dust.
Even iron-clad men, after high-intensity hauling of a full truckload, would be dog-tired, bent over knees, gasping for breath.
Though the soldiers were drenched in sweat, no one dared stop.
After a brief breather, they immediately dove into the next round of hauling.
The entire valley echoed with officers’ hoarse shouts, soldiers’ chants, and clanging sounds.
The clock hands precisely passed 12:48.
Xiong Junfeng raised his wrist, checked his watch, then looked up, surveying the valley that had completely transformed before his eyes.
Half an hour ago, it had been a quiet wasteland.
Now, one after another ferocious 155mm howitzers stood tall in meticulously built gun pits, muzzles covered by camouflage nets, pointing remotely toward Taiyuan.
Between gun positions were neatly stacked, tarpaulin-covered ammo piles. On the surrounding high ground, anti-aircraft machine guns and cannons stood like vigilant sentinels watching the sky.
The entire position was covered by huge camouflage nets; from the air, it blended seamlessly with the surrounding mountain forests, showing no trace of human activity.
Xiong Junfeng nodded in satisfaction, a rare smile on his rough face.
He patted the cold, solid barrel of a cannon beside him, muttering to himself: “Not bad… at least we didn’t get outdone by those brats from the First Regiment; looks like the extra training these days paid off.”
He cleared his throat and once again unleashed a thunderous roar:
“Well done! Now, everyone to positions, all rest!”
“Yes!”
The soldiers responded in unison again, but this time their voices carried a clear note of relieved exhaustion.
With Xiong Junfeng’s command, the war machine that had been running at high speed instantly switched to standby mode. Soldiers who had been bustling the previous second receded like the tide, burrowing into their individual foxholes or finding shade under trucks or against mountain walls.
“Gulp gulp…”
Water canteens were unscrewed, cool water pouring into parched throats, making satisfying sounds. Some soldiers leaned against foxhole walls, removed their caps to fan themselves, letting sweat-soaked backs enjoy a moment of coolness.
Others thought of nothing, just found a comfortable position, head on backpack, sprawling out flat.
Most of the Second Artillery Regiment were veteran soldiers who had crawled out of mountains of corpses and seas of blood; they knew better than anyone that on the battlefield, every bit of usable time was incomparably precious.
Seize the time, rest anytime, anywhere, to maintain stamina for potential combat—this had become the most basic quality of a qualified soldier.
Soon, the tense, noisy position gradually quieted down.
Except for the sentries on alert vigilantly watching the surroundings, most soldiers had fallen asleep.
The valley wind blew, and the rising and falling snores became the only background sound on this position fraught with killing intent…
