The War of Resistance Against Japanese Aggression Begins in Songhu

Chapter 577 A Trivial Battle (Bonus Chapter for Shooting One Kid at a Time)

Xia Haibo set off with the team as soon as it got dark.

He carried an empty carrying pole on his shoulder, which contained a section of bamboo tube, about half a pound of coarse rice, and a piece of cured meat about the size of two fingers. He also carried a homemade gun on his back.

The bamboo tubes, brown rice, and cured meat were things his mother had prepared for him before he left, worried that he would be too hungry to work and that there wouldn't be time to cook rice. She told him to take them with him so he could cook a meal of bamboo tube rice while resting in the middle of the night.

The homemade gun was something he subconsciously carried on his shoulder for self-defense.

With just half a pound of brown rice, Xia Haibo could only eat until he was half full, even if he ate his fill.

He clearly saw that after his mother scooped out half a pound of rice, the bag at home was almost completely empty.

Seeing this, he was just thinking of something, like not needing to bring the coarse rice and finding something to eat himself, when his father put down his pipe and cursed angrily:
“Take it with you. You won’t have the strength to work if you don’t eat your fill. If I hear that you’re slacking off, I’ll beat you to death for Commander Hu when I get back.”

Xia Haibo: "..."

When we first set off, the group consisted of only Xiajia Village and the neighboring Lijiatang and Xiejia Villages, totaling more than two hundred people.

But as they walked, the number of people increased, forming a dense, dark mass of at least one or two thousand people.

It turns out that before Lao Li and Xia Haitao found the people from Xiajia Village in Goose-shaped Mountain, they had already searched for people from two or three other villages.

Several other groups of people also went to the areas where other villagers were hiding.

Eventually, everyone in their organization gathered together along the way.

And so, under the seemingly exceptionally bright moonlight tonight, so many people strode toward the dirt road from Xiangyin to C Shacheng.

No one spoke throughout the entire process; only a rustling sound of footsteps echoed in the moonlit night, yet the atmosphere was anything but dull.

Because amidst the continuous sound of footsteps, everyone sensed a powerful force that they had overlooked:
Even if these peasants gather together, as long as they work together, they are a force that will not be bullied.

The group consisted of farmers accustomed to farm work, and their stamina was quite good. By around 10 p.m., they had walked dozens of miles and arrived at a main road.

There were no exciting speeches; everyone who came here tonight knew why they were here.

Upon arriving at the destination, without any prompting from Lao Li and the others, everyone took the initiative to get to work on the dirt road; some were wielding hoes and shovels to dig, while others were carrying soil.

First, they carried soil to fill in two wells in a village by the roadside.

Then they carried soil and piled it up every hundred meters or so, creating a large artificial earthen slope.

When the Japanese soldiers walked this section of the road, the ground was not only full of potholes, but also as uneven as a roller coaster.

Perhaps because it had been more than a month since he had eaten his fill, his body had become quite weak.

After the load of at least 150 or 160 pounds was placed on his shoulders, 17-year-old Xia Haibo felt as if a mountain had suddenly pressed down on his shoulders.

This caused his back to bend over instantly, and beads of sweat immediately appeared on his forehead and back.

Looking at the figures around him, one after another, slightly hunched over, silently carrying their loads, Xia Haibo gritted his teeth and began to move with difficulty.

Then, one load, two loads... he kept working like this, gritting his teeth and working continuously.

During this process, he desperately hoped to stay up until midnight to rest, because then he could light a fire and cook a bamboo tube of fragrant cured meat and bamboo rice.

Just thinking about it made his mouth water...

******
Unfortunately, Xia Haibo never got to eat the bamboo rice he had been longing for.

After working until 1:30 a.m., Old Li, who was also working with them, wiped the sweat from his face, glanced at the time on his pocket watch, and...

He shouted, "Everyone, hang in there a little longer, hold on until 2 o'clock, then we'll take a half-hour break."

This was also the closest Xia Haibo, this young man, ever came to eating bamboo rice.

Two or three minutes later, just as he was walking past Old Li carrying an empty load of soil, Xia Haitao, his cousin, came running over.

After running to Old Li's side, he lowered his voice and said:
"Oh no! The Japanese patrol has come all the way along the road, a squad of 13 men, and they are about three miles away from here."

"What do we do now? Get the villagers to evacuate quickly?" Upon hearing this, Old Li instinctively glanced at the road and realized that although it had been severely damaged in just over three hours, it was still far from enough.

A resolute look flashed across his face, and he roared:
"Fellow villagers, don't worry, it's just a patrol of about ten Japanese soldiers. We'll go and take them out. You can stay here and continue working."

In case things go wrong, someone will organize your evacuation in advance, so don't worry about danger.

After shouting, he pulled a small pistol from under his long robe and issued another command:
"Xiao Zhu and Xiao Liu, you two stay here. If the Japanese come, immediately organize and cover the villagers' retreat; the rest of you come with me and take out these Japanese soldiers."

After saying that, the man who looked like a schoolteacher took the lead and ran towards Xiangyin County; following closely behind him were Xia Haitao and a group of twelve people.

After hesitating for a moment, Xia Haibo, not knowing where the courage came from, threw down his load and followed.

Then about ten more people saw this and followed, carrying homemade guns, hoes, and carrying poles; one of them limped badly as he ran, and that was Xia Haibo's Uncle Mantang...

About ten minutes later, under the exceptionally bright moonlight, Xia Haibo, who was lying in the roadside bushes, saw the Japanese patrol.

They carried Type 38 rifles with bayonets fixed, crouching low as they cautiously advanced along the dirt road.

It's likely that even on a quiet night, the noise from so many people digging the road more than a mile away was still noticed by them from a distance.

When the Japanese soldiers were still twenty meters away from them, Old Li shouted "Fire!" and opened fire with his pistol.

They fired all their bullets in a very short time, without any intention of conserving bullets.

Instinctively after the gunshot, Xia Haibo also pulled the trigger of his homemade gun, hurling a handful of iron pellets at the Japanese soldier in front of him.

Then, ignoring the fact that the barrel of the gun was still hot from firing a shot, he held the homemade gun upside down in his hand and rushed out with Uncle Mantang.

There was no other way! Old Li and his group of fifteen members of our Party only had four pistols in total.

Furthermore, they had no spare magazines and their marksmanship was quite mediocre; these were former teachers, workers, and craftsmen who were secret agents of our Party, and all they knew was how to fire a gun.

Apart from three homemade guns, they had no other firearms; they only had carrying poles and hoes.

Therefore, if we were to engage in a firefight with the Japanese, even if they were lying in ambush and opened fire first, we would still lose. The best approach would be to engage in a round of fire and then charge forward to fight the Japanese hand-to-hand.

Luckily! After emptying the magazines of their pistols and using a large amount of shot from the three homemade guns, even though Old Li and his team's marksmanship was mediocre.

When Xia Haibo and his group of 25 rushed forward, only 6 Japanese soldiers were still standing.

It's a pity! The Japanese soldiers, being professional soldiers, were far less skilled at killing than these teachers, farmers, and workers.

Three minutes later, the 17-year-old boy was completely dumbfounded, holding the nearly lifeless Old Li in his arms.

Uncle Mantang is dead! To save him, he clung tightly to the bayonet that the Japanese soldier had plunged into his abdomen. When Xia Haibo swung his homemade gun and killed the Japanese soldier, Uncle Mantang also breathed his last.

My cousin Xia Haitao died; he was shot in the head before he even reached the road. Another group of our party members whose names I don't know, as well as some familiar villagers, also died.

Now only Xia Haibo and Lao Li are alive, and Lao Li, whose stomach was pierced by the Japanese soldiers, is also dying.

The Japanese soldiers were too formidable. Their bayonets stabbed with incredible speed and ferocity. Xia Haibo and his men saw it clearly, but their bodies couldn't react in time, and they were immediately knocked to the ground.

In order to kill one Japanese soldier, they often had to lose several people.

It was only after the dying old Li reached out a hand and grabbed his collar tightly that the 17-year-old boy came to his senses.

Then he saw Old Li, with blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, say to him, "Young man! Please go and tell Xiao Zhu and Xiao Liu that the Japanese have been killed, and tell them to hurry up and dig the road."

After saying that, Old Li's head lolled to the side and he died.

Amidst the corpses scattered on the ground, only Xia Haibo staggered to his feet and went back to report the news.

Xia Haibo's experience described above occurred on a dirt road in early October of the 30th year of the Republic of China, on the route from C Shacheng to Yueyang City.

This was just one of the countless battles that had taken place, insignificant in both scale and duration.

There isn't a single word about it in the war histories of the National Revolutionary Army's Ninth War Zone and the Japanese 11th Army...

(End of this chapter)