Bright Sword: The Flowers of War

Chapter 296 Fire

Night had fallen, but neither the Chinese nor Japanese commanders, who were about to engage in a major battle, showed any sign of rest.

In the brightly lit command post in Zheyang Town, Li Gaoyuan, Pi Ruoyu, Li Yunlong, Ding Wei, and others were gathered around the sand table and map, finalizing and rehearsing every attack step and the timing of each round of artillery fire. The air was filled with the tension and excitement unique to the eve of a major battle.

Meanwhile, on the Japanese positions at the Taiyuan front, the atmosphere was deathly silent and heavy.

Under the cover of night, Yoshio Shinotsuka, commander of the Japanese First Army, accompanied by a group of officers and guards, personally came to a trench less than 300 meters from the front line.

What does such a close distance mean?
This means that if a sniper on the opposite militia position wanted to shoot through his left eye, the bullet would have absolutely no chance of hitting his right eye.

Despite the danger, Yoshio Shinotsuka still came. He needed to see for himself what his supposedly impregnable defenses had become.

Now that he has arrived, the changes in the battlefield have truly taken him by surprise, and have put everyone, including himself, on edge.

The trenches were filled with the pungent smell of gunpowder and dirt.

By the occasional afterglow of flares streaking across the sky in the distance, one could see the desolate land around us, resembling the surface of the moon, covered with countless craters of varying depths.

The once-solid bunker is now nothing but ruins, the twisted remains piercing the night sky like the skeleton of a monster.

Yoshio Shinotsuka remained expressionless, maintaining the dignity of an army lieutenant general, but the hand holding the binoculars tightened involuntarily.

After slowly lowering the cold binoculars, he turned to Lieutenant General Iseki Jin, the commander of the 36th Division, who was following behind him with an equally solemn expression.

"Iseki-kun, these days your division must be having a tough time, right?" His voice was calm, revealing no emotion.

"Yes, Your Excellency Commander."

A hint of undisguised bitterness appeared on Iseki Jin's face. He bowed deeply to Shinotsuka Yoshio and said:
"Before the Chinese planes began bombing, I prepared 167 bunkers of various sizes, seven anti-tank trenches, and 379 various support firing points for the Empire around Taiyuan."

He straightened up, his voice trembling slightly: "But as of now, we only have forty-eight bunkers left, only two anti-tank trenches left, and only one hundred and twenty-two firing positions left... Moreover, due to the continuous bombing, we have already lost or been wounded more than thirteen hundred imperial warriors before we have even officially engaged in battle with the enemy."

Hearing the string of cold numbers recited by Iseki Jin, Shinotsuka Yoshio tightly closed his lips and remained silent.

A night breeze blew by, carrying a faint smell of blood, which sent a chill down his spine.

He anticipated that once air superiority was completely lost, the ground forces would face exceptionally difficult defenses and might suffer some losses.

But he never expected the losses to be so great! The continuous bombing was like using a dull knife to cut a large chunk of flesh from his proud First Army before the war even started.

The loss of the position is secondary; the fortifications that are destroyed can be rebuilt.

Before the battle even officially began, he had already lost more than a thousand soldiers for no reason, which truly pained him.

Although the 36th Division was only a Class B division, most of its soldiers were veterans who had participated in many battles, making it a valuable war resource for the Empire.

It's such a pity that they were consumed by the bombardment without any chance to fight back!

His gaze shifted from the bombed-out position to Iseki Ren's dejected face, and he asked in a low voice, "Iseki-kun, if the Shanxi militia launches an attack tomorrow, can your division... repel the Chinese offensive?"

This problem weighed heavily on Iseki Ren's mind like a boulder.

He raised his head, meeting Yoshio Shinotsuka's questioning gaze. His lips moved a few times, but in the end, he could only shake his head with difficulty.

He neither said he could nor he couldn't; he simply said in an almost desperate tone that he would do his best, but he dared not make any guarantees about the outcome.

This ambiguous answer clearly did not satisfy Yoshio Shinotsuka.

Seeing this, Major General Hideyoshi Kusuyama, the First Army Chief of Staff standing next to Yoshio Shinotsuka, couldn't help but step forward and say to Iseki Jin in a stern tone: "Iseki-kun, you are very disappointing."

The commander asked if you could hold the line.

Taiyuan is the lifeline of the empire; you must stay here and hold out for at least half a month.

"At all costs, do everything in your power to deplete the Shanxi militia's manpower. Do you understand?" Hideyoshi Kusuyama's voice sounded particularly jarring in the quiet night, but it was met with an even longer silence from Iseki Ren.

Iseki Ren lowered his head, looking at the mud that covered his boots.

Hold out for half a month?
With enemy planes and heavy artillery able to relentlessly plow his position like a field, he couldn't bring himself to give his men a suicidal order to use their own flesh and blood to wear down the enemy's steel.

His silence was the most silent and desperate form of protest.

Seeing Iseki's silent, unyielding demeanor, Chief of Staff Kusuyama Hideyoshi's temper flared up again. He was about to reprimand him again when Shinotsuka Yoshio raised his hand to stop him.

Yoshio Shinotsuka knew that simply applying pressure and scolding would have no effect on a commander who had lost confidence.

He took a step forward and stood in front of Iseki Ren. His originally cold gaze became complicated, containing both sternness and a hint of pleading.

He spoke to Iseki Ren in an unusually serious tone, word by word: "Iseki-kun, I know that this request may be very difficult for you and for every warrior in the 36th Division."

His voice was not loud, but it clearly reached the ears of everyone present: "But you must know that what you are defending is not just a defensive line, but the lifeline of Taiyuan, and the face of the entire North China Front Army."

If the outer defenses of Taiyuan fall, the Chinese can advance unimpeded and launch a full-scale attack on the city. Do you understand what a devastating blow that would be to the reputation of the Great Japanese Empire?

Yoshio Shinotsuka's gaze swept over the blurry outline of Taiyuan City in the distance, then returned to Iseki Ren's face, his tone becoming more forceful: "So, you have no choice! You must stay here, on this battlefield that has been bombed into ruins, and hold out for me for at least half a month."

At all costs! Hold out until the arrival of the 27th Division, dispatched by Commander-in-Chief Tada Shun of the North China Area Army, and the Independent Mixed Brigade 7 stationed in Zhangjiakou.

By then, we will be able to encircle this arrogant Shanxi militia and crush them completely!
Do you... understand?

"Hai!"

With his commander having put it this way, what could Iseki Ren say? He knew he had no way out and no room for negotiation. He lowered his head deeply and, with all his might, replied, indicating that he obeyed.

He knew that from this moment on, he and his 36th Division would have to use their blood and flesh to fill this already riddled defensive line until reinforcements arrived or the entire army was wiped out.

The next day, the sun rose as usual, its golden rays bathing the mountains of Shanxi and dispelling the morning mist. To this star that has burned for billions of years, the insignificant struggles of humanity on Earth are perhaps not even worthy of its attention.

However, for the outer defenses of Taiyuan, which were about to be baptized in blood and fire, this was a day that would determine their fate.

On several well-camouflaged, concealed artillery positions six kilometers away from the Japanese defense line, a tense atmosphere had already descended.

More than three hundred ferocious steel behemoths have shed their cannon covers, revealing their cold and deadly true forms.

The 155mm heavy howitzer's thick barrel, the M1 105mm howitzer's elegant yet deadly lines, and rows of 75mm mountain guns and 107mm heavy mortars—all the gun muzzles, like hungry beasts, were pointed darkly and uniformly at the Japanese positions.

The gunners had already loaded the first shell into the breech, standing at their positions, holding their breath and waiting for the final command.

Further ahead, on the front lines only a few hundred meters from the enemy, the soldiers of the New First Regiment and the Independent Regiment, led by Li Yunlong and Ding Wei, were clinging tightly to the trenches like geckos.

Many Eighth Route Army soldiers were seeing such a scene for the first time. They stared wide-eyed at the seemingly calm Japanese positions ahead, both excited and nervous.

Li Yunlong held a brand-new pair of binoculars in his hand and had an unlit cigarette butt in his mouth. He felt so itchy that it felt like a million ants were crawling all over him. He had fought so many battles in his life, but he had never fought such a lavish one!
In the artillery command post at the rear, Zhang Zhihao, the commander of the 1st Artillery Regiment, and Xiong Junfeng, the commander of the 2nd Artillery Regiment, two artillery experts trained by Su Yaoyang, stood like two statues in front of their respective telephones, their eyes fixed on the clock on the wall.

Each tick of the second hand struck everyone's heart like a heavy hammer.

When the hour, minute, and second hands of the clock perfectly align on the number "7"—

"Ring ring ring—!"

The piercing ringing of telephones broke the deathly silence before dawn, shattering the silence in both command posts almost simultaneously.

Zhang Zhihao and Xiong Junfeng grabbed the microphone almost the instant the ringtone sounded, their movements so fast they left afterimages.

Soon, a command, though encrypted, remained steady and forceful, coming through the microphone. The command was simple, consisting of only two words:
"fire!"

(End of this chapter)