Bright Sword: The Flowers of War

Chapter 259 Please enter the urn
Retreat is never a simple word, especially when it involves the life and death of hundreds of thousands of troops.

This is an incredibly complex and sophisticated system engineering project that is so intricate it's mind-boggling.

Which troops will retreat first, and which will retreat last? How long will the rearguard hold out? How many retreat routes are there? Where are the backup routes? What should we do if we encounter enemy bombing or a ground attack?
When different units are retreating in a cross-regional manner, how should artillery, infantry, and supply units coordinate and cooperate to avoid getting crammed together on narrow roads and becoming easy targets for the enemy?

Every detail concerns the lives of tens of thousands of soldiers. Any mishap in any link could trigger a domino effect, turning the entire retreat into a catastrophic collapse.

In the following days, the entire Fifth Theater Command became a high-speed, overheated war machine.

Li Zongren and his staff officers all had bloodshot eyes, having not slept for days and nights.

The operations room was filled with smoke, and the sounds of telephones ringing, telegraph machines ticking, and officers arguing hoarsely never ceased.

Fortunately, Li Zongren had a capable assistant by his side—Xu Zuyi, the chief of staff of the Fifth War Zone.

This experienced and meticulous chief of staff, along with his staff, devoted all their energy to this evacuation plan, which was no less challenging than hell.

They calculated the action time of each division and each regiment down to the hour, and simulated each retreat route dozens of times.

After several sleepless nights of effort, a detailed evacuation plan was finally completed.

The most crucial, dangerous, and vital part of this plan is the role of the defenders.

We must have a force with sufficient fighting power and unwavering will, like a nail firmly planted in Yichang, holding out at all costs to withstand the most frenzied attacks by the Japanese army, thus buying precious time for the westward retreat of hundreds of thousands of troops.

This perilous mission, with its near-certain death, undoubtedly fell to Su Yaoyang and his Shanxi militia.

So, while the main forces in the war zone began to move westward in batches and quietly, Su Yaoyang and his troops did the opposite.

They took over the defense of the entire city of Yichang and did only one thing—transform this historically strategic location into an unprecedented and impregnable fortress that could make the Japanese army bleed to death.

The former prosperity of Yichang City has vanished. In its place is a tense yet orderly atmosphere of impending war.

Squads of Shanxi militia soldiers were assisting groups of civilians as they boarded westward-bound ships.

On the dock, cries, instructions, and soldiers' orders mingled together, but the main event remained orderly.

Meanwhile, a different scene is unfolding on the streets of the city.

Under the unified command of the officers, the entire city is being "magically transformed".

One after another, sturdy buildings were converted into firing positions, with windows blocked by sandbags, leaving only firing ports.

On the streets, toppled walls, abandoned houses, and even heavy furniture moved from citizens' homes were piled up to form simple yet effective barricades.

Countless crossfire points, anti-tank traps, and booby traps were cleverly deployed in every direction the Japanese army might attack.

Su Yaoyang was standing on the top of a clock tower that had been requisitioned as a temporary command post, holding binoculars and looking down at the city that was undergoing tremendous changes under his leadership.

Beneath his feet lay streets and alleys being turned into death traps by countless engineers and soldiers. In his distance stretched an endless line of friendly troops and civilians heading west.

He knew that after the last friendly force withdrew, this city would become the battlefield for his troops and the Japanese 11th Army to fight each other in a bloody struggle.

After the last batch of civilians evacuated and Li Zongren's war zone headquarters was moved, this bigwig of the Guangxi clique personally came to the clock tower, which was about to become a battlefield, to say a final goodbye to Su Yaoyang.

Without much rousing talk, the two men simply stood atop the clock tower, silently watching the sunset paint the entire city a tragic, blood-red hue.

"Mingxi, I'm counting on you." Before leaving, Li Zongren patted Su Yaoyang's shoulder heavily.

"Don't worry, sir. Yichang will be absolutely secure for at least ten days. If the Japanese devils want to take Yichang, they'll have to step over all of our corpses first." Su Yaoyang's reply was simple and powerful.

The two parted reluctantly. As Li Zongren's figure disappeared at the end of the street, the fate of the entire city of Yichang, along with tens of thousands of Shanxi militia soldiers, was completely handed over to Su Yaoyang.

With no more constraints, Su Yaoyang was finally able to unleash his full potential and arrange this defensive battle, which was destined to be recorded in history, according to his own ideas.

His first order was given to the Air Force. Cheng Rufeng led the pirate squadron to transfer all the valuable F4U fighters and SBD frigate bombers, along with ground crew and key equipment, to the Sandouping temporary airfield more than 200 kilometers to the west.

The airport on the outskirts of Yichang was left empty, not even a single screw was left for the Japanese.

Immediately afterwards, he began to set up ground defenses.

He established two layers of tiered outer defenses, taking advantage of the hills and rivers outside Yichang city.

These two lines of defense were not intended to be held to the death, but rather to serve as "speed bumps" to wear down and delay the Japanese army.

Each defensive line was riddled with landmines, barbed wire, and meticulously calculated artillery bombardment coordinates, with the aim of inflicting as much blood as possible on the Japanese army before they officially attacked the city, thus wearing down their morale.

He chose Yichang City as the site of the actual decisive battle.

This city, meticulously transformed into a three-dimensional fortress by the staff, was the true graveyard he had prepared for the Sixth Division.

Huang Guantao, the commander of the Second Regiment, a valiant general who had crawled out of the Nanjing Massacre with him, was appointed as the city's defense commander-in-chief, in charge of the core urban warfare.

Everything is ready; all that's left is to wait.

Time passed in a breathtaking stillness.

On the morning of May 26, 1940, three days after Li Zongren and others left.

The thin fog that had been hanging over Yichang City had not yet dissipated when a piercing alarm suddenly broke the silence!

coming!

Su Yaoyang suddenly sat up from his cot, grabbed his binoculars, and rushed to the lookout point of the clock tower.

On the eastern horizon of the city, a series of black torrents appeared. Those were the Japanese reconnaissance and advance troops, cautiously approaching the outer defenses of Yichang City like wolves that had smelled blood.

Following closely behind was a cloud of dust. That was the main force of the Japanese 6th Division, kicking up dust as they pressed forward menacingly.

War finally arrived in its most direct and horrific form.

The Shanxi militia soldiers on various positions outside the city quickly took up their combat posts under the orders of their officers.

The click of the bolt being pulled back and the commands of the artillerymen adjusting their firing parameters rose and fell. Every face was etched with tension and determination.

They lay in ambush in their positions, like a group of patient hunters, waiting for their prey to step into their trap.

Zhang Wenshan sat silently in the trench, smoking a cigarette, a stark contrast to the young private next to him who kept peeking out to observe the situation.

Inside a newly dug communication trench on the first outer defense line, five miles east of Yichang city.

The air was filled with the smell of damp earth and a faint tobacco scent.

Zhang Wenshan leaned silently against the breastwork of the trench, lit a cigarette, took a deep drag, and slowly exhaled. The smoke blurred his face, etched with the sharp features of time and hardship.

He appeared unusually calm, a stark contrast to the young private beside him who kept peeking out nervously to observe the situation ahead.

He was a raw recruit who had just been transferred to their platoon from the rear. His face was still covered in fuzz, and he was fidgeting, clutching his brand-new Garand rifle tightly, his palms sweaty.

"Don't show your face, or the Japanese will snipe you." Zhang Wenshan didn't look at him, but said calmly, "Sit tight, you'll have your turn to fight."

The young private blushed when the platoon leader spoke to him, and quickly pulled his head back, but his body remained tense.

A veteran wiping an M1919 general-purpose machine gun nearby grinned, revealing a missing front tooth, and chuckled, "Platoon leader, look at this greenhorn, trembling like a leaf. Hope he doesn't wet his pants when the Japanese come up."

"Get lost!" Zhang Wenshan laughed and cursed. "Everyone started as a greenhorn."

The veterans in the trenches let out a low chuckle, which eased the tense atmosphere slightly.

Just then, the sound of horses' hooves grew louder and clearer as they approached from afar.

The first Japanese troops to arrive were the 6th Cavalry Regiment of the 6th Division.

These Japanese soldiers, riding tall horses and carrying sabers, did not charge directly at the position like reckless youths.

They demonstrated qualities unique to the standing divisions.

Hundreds of cavalrymen dispersed and began running in circles along the defensive line at a safe distance of about five or six hundred meters from the position.

They sped up and slowed down, making all sorts of arrogant and provocative gestures on horseback. Some brandished sabers, some raised their middle fingers towards the enemy lines, and others shouted obscene and vulgar language in broken Chinese.

Their objective was clear: to provoke the defenders on the position, entice them to lose their temper and open fire, thereby revealing the location and density of their firing positions.

However, their scheme failed.

The entire first line of defense was as silent as a sleeping python. There was no machine gun fire, no rifle volleys, not even a single shout or curse in response. The soldiers had all received strict orders: not to fire a single shot without orders from headquarters.

Just as the Japanese cavalry were running away happily, thinking that the Chinese defenders on the position were cowards—

"puff!"

A dull, distinctive gunshot rang out abruptly on the battlefield. Unlike the crisp sound of an ordinary rifle, the sound carried a suppressed power.

A Japanese sergeant, who was brandishing his sword and showing off, suddenly jolted as if struck by an invisible hammer.

A bloody hole instantly appeared in his helmet, and he fell straight off the galloping horse like a tattered sack, rolled a few times on the ground, and then fell silent.

The provocative shouts abruptly ceased. All the Japanese cavalrymen reined in their horses in astonishment, looking with suspicion and uncertainty at their fallen comrade and the silent Chinese position.

Before they could even react—

"puff!"

Another gunshot rang out.

Another cavalryman burst from the chest with a cloud of blood and fell from his horse.

Now they finally understood. They weren't met with cowardly brutes, but with calm and deadly snipers hidden deep within their lines. A chilling fear gripped them instantly, and these once-arrogant cavalrymen immediately lost their composure, turning their horses around and fleeing in disarray.

Zhang Wenshan, inside the trench, stubbed out his cigarette, a cold smile playing on his lips.

It's just an appetizer.

The real feast is yet to come...

The first probing clash between the Shanxi militia and the Sixth Division in three years ended with the Sixth Cavalry Regiment leaving behind more than a dozen corpses in front of the Chinese positions and fleeing in disarray.

This was not only a minor tactical setback, but also a public humiliation of the pride of Machijiri Ryoki and the entire 6th Division.

Completely enraged, the Japanese escalated the conflict almost without hesitation.

Soon, the order from the rear field airfield was transmitted to the front command post via radio waves.

The first formal attack by the Japanese army began. And this time, they sent out steel reapers from the sky.

"Airplanes make war so terrible that I believe any country would be extremely cautious about war."

This is what a general said to a reporter after World War I.

Unfortunately, history has proven him wrong. The rapid development of airplanes did not deter humanity from war; on the contrary, it greatly accelerated the course of war and pushed its cruelty to a new level.

At this moment, at a secluded field airfield more than 100 kilometers away from Yichang, these machines that accelerate the war are neatly arranged beside the compacted grass runway.

Rows of sleek, brand-new fighter planes, adorned with the Hinomaru insignia, gleamed with a cold metallic sheen in the morning sunlight. They were the Imperial Air Force's newest pride—the Zero carrier-based fighters.

A group of pilots, generally short in stature but with sharp eyes and the fervor of youth on their faces, gathered on the lawn by the airport, standing at attention and listening intently to their superior's pre-battle briefing.

Standing before them was Kenji Yamamoto, the captain of the 90th Flying Squadron and a lieutenant colonel in the Army Air Force.

He was tall and straight, wearing a flight suit, holding a pointer in his hand, pointing at a Zero fighter behind him as a model.

"Gentlemen!"

Kenji Yamamoto's voice was loud and confident, "This is the Empire's latest masterpiece, the Mitsubishi A6M Zero fighter! It uses a 780-horsepower 'Zuisei' Type 13 twin 14-cylinder air-cooled radial piston engine, and its lightweight all-metal fuselage gives it unparalleled climb rate and range!"

He tapped the airplane wing hard with his pointer.

"In terms of firepower, it is equipped with two 7.7mm aircraft machine guns on each wing and nose! Whether in terms of speed, maneuverability, or sustained firepower, the Zero is the best fighter in the Empire, and even the world! Those backward I-15s and I-16s of the Chinese are nothing but a bunch of flying coffins in front of it!"

The young pilots erupted in a barely suppressed excitement, their eyes gleaming with a blind faith in the new fighter jet and a thirst for the impending air battle.

"Sir, I request to speak!" A young pilot raised his hand high.

"Permission to speak is granted."

"Sir, I've heard that the Shanxi militia in China is equipped with the latest American fighter jets. These planes are not only incredibly fast, but also have exceptionally fierce firepower. A few days ago, our fleet suffered heavy losses in Nanguadian. Could you tell me about those Chinese fighter jets?" the young pilot said, a hint of worry in his eyes.

"Baka!" Yamamoto Kenji cursed, "Are you making excuses for your failure?"
The Chinese fighter jets are nothing special. Apart from having thicker armor and more machine guns, they are no match for us in terms of speed and maneuverability.

In battle, as long as we utilize our advantages of a small turning radius and high maneuverability, we can easily defeat them, understand?

"Hai!" The young pilot lowered his head in fright.

Satisfied with his subordinates' reaction, Yamamoto Kenji continued to urge them on: "Our mission is to pilot these elite warplanes and knock on the gates of Yichang! To clear all obstacles for the warriors of the army! To let those Chinese rats hiding in the trenches taste the wrath of the imperial gods! To establish military merit for His Majesty the Emperor!"

"What a black card! Onboard!"

The pilots roared in unison, their fervent slogans echoing throughout the airport.

At Yamamoto Kenji's command, the pilots quickly dispersed and rushed to their aircraft.

Ground crew pulled the start lever, and amidst puffs of white smoke, the Zero fighter's engine emitted a unique roar, like a beast awakening.

Soon, an attack formation consisting of twenty-four Zero fighters and eighteen Type 97 light bombers roared into the sky, kicking up clouds of dust, and formed a huge arrow formation in the air, rushing towards Yichang with murderous intent.

Kenji Yamamoto led his prized Zero fighter squadron, like a flock of elegant yet deadly raptors, over Yichang.

Viewed from thousands of meters above, the entire city resembles a giant sand table, with streets and houses clearly visible.

A contemptuous smile curled at the corner of his lips as he prepared to order his men to begin their "hunt."

However, before he could finish speaking, something unexpected happened!

"Boom! Boom! Boom!"

Without warning, countless tongues of fire erupted from the ground! Immediately afterward, clouds of black, cotton-candy-like smoke suddenly exploded below and around the aircraft.

That's the barrage created by anti-aircraft shells exploding at a predetermined altitude!
The violent shockwave from the explosion caused the aircraft to shudder violently. Several Zero fighters that were unable to dodge in time were grazed by shrapnel, leaving unsightly marks on their fuselages.

"Baka! There's heavy anti-aircraft fire on the ground!"

Kenji Yamamoto's face instantly darkened. "Second and third squads, dive down immediately! Take down their anti-aircraft positions!"

"Hai!"

More than ten Zero fighters immediately broke away from formation, their noses slamming down, and with a piercing whistle, they swooped down like falcons toward the positions on the ground that were constantly spewing fire.

Just then, a cold and calm voice rang out on another radio channel.

"Pirates are calling their fledglings! 'Zero' Candy has arrived and is ready to feast. As planned, use your altitude advantage for a free hunt!"

This voice belongs to Cheng Rufeng.

At his command, twenty F4U "Corsair" fighter jets, painted with shark mouth designs and featuring unique inverted gull wings, came crashing down from above the clouds like a heavy hammer falling from the sky!

They were much faster than the Zeros, and using the altitude advantage gained from the Immelmann maneuver, they viciously pounced on the Zero fighters that were diving and exposing their backs with a hit-and-run tactic!

"Da da da da da..."

The six 12.7mm Browning heavy machine guns at the wing roots of the F4U Corsair fighter roared simultaneously! Six blazing whips of tracer bullets lashed out instantly at the two Zero fighters that were diving.

The fragile Zero fighters were like eggs being smashed by a hammer under the powerful fire of the heavy machine guns. One of them had its wing torn off on the spot, lost its balance in the air, spun around, and crashed to the ground as a fireball.

The cockpit of the other plane was riddled with holes, and the pilot and his seat were smashed into a bloody mess. The plane, trailing black smoke, crashed down!
"Enemy attack! Enemy planes overhead!"

"It's a new Chinese plane! It's so fast!"

The Japanese army's radio channels instantly descended into chaos.

Kenji Yamamoto was both shocked and furious. He pulled the control stick sharply, abandoning the ground attack and forcibly pulling the plane up. He looked up.

The group of blue fighter jets with strange wings, after completing a dive attack, used their powerful engines to quickly climb and regain a favorable altitude.

"Damn it! Don't get entangled with them! Use our mobility advantage!" Yamamoto Kenji roared, knowing the enemy's tactical intentions.

The sky instantly transformed into a massive and brutal meat grinder.

Twenty-four Zero fighters and twenty Corsair fighters clashed head-on, creating a chaotic melee.

The Zero fighter, with its unparalleled horizontal maneuverability, attempted to drag the Corsair into close-range dogfights.

A Zero fighter was locked in a tight chase with a Corsair, its 7.7mm machine gun bullets ricocheting off the Corsair's thick armor.

The pilots of the pirate fighter planes strictly followed Cheng Rufeng's orders, never lingering in combat. Utilizing their powerful engines and sturdy fuselages, once tailed, they would immediately rev the engine to gain speed and escape, then climb again to seek another opportunity for a dive attack.

The aerial battles were extremely fierce, with planes frequently crashing from the sky, trailing black smoke.

A pirate fighter, greedy for glory, attempted to pursue a damaged Zero, but was ambushed from the side and rear by another Zero. Its fuel tank was hit, and it exploded in mid-air into a dazzling cloud of fireworks.

Cheng Rufeng personally piloted his aircraft, like a ghost in the sky.

He spotted a skilled Japanese Zero fighter. After several rounds of probing, he seized an opening when the opponent rolled, and suddenly slid to the side. Six heavy machine guns roared again, and the dense rain of bullets instantly shattered the Zero's tail fin.

The out-of-control Zero, like a falling leaf, helplessly spun and plummeted towards the earth.

Both sides' pilots were risking their lives and using their skills to engage in the most primitive and bloody battle.

The sky over Yichang has become a giant sieve, constantly shaking life and steel down from the heavens.

(End of this chapter)