Bright Sword: The Flowers of War

Chapter 343 The Final Assault on Niangziguan
While the front lines were shrouded in smoke, the atmosphere at the Shanxi Militia Field Hospital in Wutai County, in the rear, was quite tense.

The autumn rain washed the bluestone ground outside the hospital until it was slippery and shiny. Rainwater dripped down the eaves in lines, occasionally splashing onto the boots of the guards, as if reminding them not to relax their vigilance in the slightest.

When Song Mei was lifted onto the wheeled stretcher, her face was slightly pale, and she kept groaning as she clutched her lower abdomen. The discomfort in her body forced her to be admitted to the hospital.

Xiao Lu personally followed beside the stretcher, with two guards holding up tarpaulins to shield them. Medical staff in waterproof jackets jogged along and took them directly to the hospital's gynecology ward.

The hospital's doctors and nurses had already received notifications over the phone that their hospital director, who was also the boss's wife, was going to be admitted to give birth.

This news put the entire organization on high alert.

Before the call bell at the duty desk had even been turned off, the head of surgery and the head of obstetrics and gynecology were already waiting at the door wearing masks. The ward team emptied the three wards on the far east side with the best view and the best conditions in one go, and thoroughly disinfected one of them to set up a single special care room.

The white sheets and duvet cover were brand new, and the bedside table was equipped with a thermos, cups, disinfectant, and various obstetric monitoring equipment.

Meanwhile, the hospital was on high alert, with on-duty doctors and nurses working in three shifts outside the wards. A platoon of fully armed soldiers was stationed in the downstairs corridor, holding rifles and standing guard to ensure that no strangers would approach.

When Song Mei was placed in the hospital bed, the sound of rain outside the window and the soft clanging of military guns downstairs intertwined, creating an unusual sense of security.

She calmed her breathing and leaned back on the high pillow.

"Sister Mei, don't worry, I'll stay here with you." Xiao Lu held her hand and comforted her softly.

"Xiao Lu!" Song Mei grasped Xiao Lu's hand. Over the years, she and Xiao Lu had become the closest of sisters.

Just then, the touching atmosphere was broken by a captain in an Air Force uniform who pushed open the door.

The captain, with the imprint of his flight cap still on his forehead and mud on his feet, gave Xiaolu a hesitant look and whispered.

"Second Madam."

Xiao Lu understood, gently patted Song Mei's hand, and winked at the captain. The captain understood and followed her out of the room. The two talked quietly in the corridor for a while before Xiao Lu came back in.

When she turned around, Song Mei immediately noticed the change: "Xiao Lu, what's wrong?"

Xiao Lu dared not hide anything and squatted down in front of the bed, whispering, "Sister Mei, it's about Shao Jie... Don't worry, the flight crew sent word that he shot down a Zero fighter and was then ambushed by Japanese fighter planes. He had no choice but to parachute out, but our search and rescue team found him immediately."

He's been sent back to the base airport hospital to recover. His left leg is a bit injured, but the doctor said he's recovering quickly and will be back in the air soon.

Fearing that Song Mei's anxiety might harm her pregnancy, Xiao Lu recounted the entire incident in one breath.

Song Mei was taken aback at first, then slowly exhaled, covered her chest with her hand, and smiled weakly: "That's good... It's good that you're alright... My brother and sister-in-law only have this one son left. If anything happens to him, how can I face them in the future?"

Xiao Lu held her hand and felt the sweat on her palm. At this moment, she was neither the hospital director nor a doctor who had seen life and death in the midst of gunfire; she was just a woman who cared about her family.

娘子关

This already treacherous pass has been reduced to scorched earth after more than ten days of bombardment and shelling.

Both the mountain body and the extending ridges have been repeatedly eroded, and the verdant greenery has long since disappeared, replaced by yellowish-brown and grayish-white.

With each step, dust would rise up, hitting your face and choking you.

The once-solid bunkers, pillboxes, and trenches were either blasted into craters or completely destroyed under the crushing force of tens of thousands of artillery shells and aerial bombs.

All that remained of the battlefield were exposed rocks and black craters.

However, the soldiers of the 3rd Division did not completely break down due to the environment. They were stubborn to the point of madness, hiding themselves in tunnels and underground fortifications and holding on to their positions.

The tunnel was blown up, so they used steel bars and entrenching tools to dig it open again;

Since the entrance to the cave was blocked, a side entrance was built next to it, and the top was covered with wooden planks and burlap sacks for disguise.
When the soldiers of the Shanxi militia threw in smoke bombs, they desperately sealed the entrance with cloth and blankets. As the toxic smoke poured in, they continued to work wearing gas masks. Even when someone suffocated and collapsed, the others persevered.

At night, they even organized "human bomb squads"... sneaking out with explosives and bayonets to quietly harass the militia's trenches.

Although most of them were shot down en route, this prevented the advancing troops from completely relaxing their guard. This almost self-destructive resistance was an extreme tactic deeply influenced by the Japanese Bushido code.

Deep inside a cave that had been blasted open, the darkness was oppressive.

The air was thick with the smells of gunpowder, sweat, and mold, making it hot and suffocating.

Several Japanese soldiers were shirtless, their thin shoulder blades bulging like blades due to dehydration, and their lips were all cracked.

An artilleryman is pushing a Type 92 infantry gun with two others. The heavy gun barrel makes a screeching sound as it is carefully positioned into the downward-facing firing port in the narrow tunnel.

The gunner, drenched in sweat and covered in dust, shouted as he adjusted the handle to aim at the slope below, "Load...faster!"

With ammunition running low, the assistant gunner beside him was carrying a wooden crate containing only five or six lone shells.

Suddenly, a familiar whistling sound came from the gap in the gloomy clouds.

The sentry guarding the camouflaged entrance had just lifted the sack to check the light when the intense sunlight made it difficult for him to open his eyes. But in just two seconds, the expression on his face turned to fear.

In the distance, several white lines shot up from the mountainside; those were the smoke trails from mortar and howitzer shells!

"Oh no... artillery fire... artillery fire!"

Before he could finish speaking, a deafening roar shook the entire tunnel, sending rocks flying and choking everyone with mud and sand that turned their eyes and noses red.

"boom!"

The second explosion occurred directly at the cave entrance. The violent shockwave knocked the gunner, who hadn't even loaded his weapon yet, to the ground. His bare, scabbed back slammed heavily onto the stone ground, instantly causing him to cough up a mouthful of blood.

The third and fourth shots landed, and the explosions and flames shot straight into the cave, completely flattening the camouflaged entrance.

The heavy burlap sacks and wooden planks were burning, and the scalding air made the scalps of the soldiers in the tunnel, who were already on the verge of thirst, feel hot.

Several shouts mixed with Japanese and violent coughing mingled together, but the artillery fire continued to cover the area.

At the Shanxi militia artillery positions below the mountain, gunners were methodically operating mortars and M1 75mm howitzers, bombarding exposed Japanese targets with round after round. After confirming the coverage effect through binoculars, the observers sounded the signal with a cornet... The last Japanese fortifications at Niangziguan were being gradually crushed.

The air vibrated, the soil cracked, and the underground tunnels were gradually shrank as the Shanxi militia launched their final offensive.

The battlefield surrounding Niangziguan Pass has now become a living hell.

For more than half a month, the siege was relentless, with cannons roaring day and night, and the entire mountain range was leveled by two or three meters.

The air was filled with the smells of scorched earth, gravel, and blood, which even diluted the coolness of the autumn wind.

The soldiers of the Shanxi militia have long since developed "eagle eyes on the battlefield."

Each hilltop was equipped with high-powered telescopes that patrolled day and night, with hundreds of eyes constantly watching the enemy's tunnel entrances. Once the Japanese soldiers were spotted raising their heads to peek out from their fireboxes, at least ten or more direct-fire field guns would immediately follow up, their muzzles blazing, turning any attempt to retaliate into blood and ashes.

But deep inside the tunnels lies another hellish scene.

A Japanese soldier's leg was blown off in the bombing. He was dragging himself forward little by little with his elbows and the stump of his limbs, leaving a long trail of blood behind him. But before he could crawl more than a few meters, he lost consciousness in the darkness due to excessive bleeding and dehydration from hunger.

Slowly crawling out in front of him were more than a dozen emaciated ghostly figures emerging from the lower tunnels.

Their eyes glowed a sickly green, their cheeks were sunken from hunger, their lips were cracked, and their bodies were covered in blood and grime. No one went to help their unconscious comrade; they pounced on him like mad dogs.

"Pfft!"
The reason is quite straightforward.

After Yangquan was bombed and the supply lines were completely cut off, the Third Division's supplies were completely cut off.

There was no rice, no water, no medicine. The tunnels were damp and cold, and disease was rampant. Dysentery and injuries claimed more lives than artillery shells. Hunger and thirst were their greatest enemies.

The paralyzed soldiers suffering from diarrhea, the sick soldiers vomiting blood in the corner, and the conscripts who were still holding on had long since lost their faith in the so-called "Long Live the Emperor".

All that remained was the primal instinct twisted by hunger.

At first, they barely survived by catching rats and boiling grass roots.
At this moment, these already broken soldiers had lost even the will to live. They began to yearn for a quicker release.

It was either a "honorable death" on the battlefield or a suicide bombing during a night raid.

Ironically, the "night raid human bomb squad," which was originally the least popular mission, has now become the most popular one.

Even being torn to pieces by Chinese soldiers in bayonet fighting is more dignified than dying in the dark and having one's body devoured by comrades.

The tunnel was like a hellish place where demons danced wildly, while outside, the Shanxi militia systematically blockaded and crushed the enemy with artillery fire.

This is the final scene at Niangziguan: the enemy soldiers are no longer soldiers, their spirits and bodies crushed together.

The deepest and most fortified underground tunnel at Niangziguan Pass has now become a living hell.

Due to long-term dampness and burning, the air in the tunnels was filled with the stench of blood, decay, pus, and human excrement. The ground was covered with a layer of muddy water mixed with blood plasma, making shoes sticky with every step.

The remaining troops of the Japanese Third Division were almost entirely huddled here. All of them were emaciated and skeletal due to hunger, disease and lack of ammunition.

Division Commander Masataka Yamakyo, once a general in a crisp military uniform, is now covered in sweat and reeking of death. His epaulets are half torn off, and he sits in the darkness with ordinary soldiers, looking no different from them.

In a corner of the tunnel, several half-rotten corpses were being skinned and fleshed out. Several soldiers nearby, like hungry wolves, used daggers to cut off pieces of flesh and put them into their mouths. The chewing sounds were extremely clear in the dim light.

Other seriously wounded soldiers were covered in black flies, and swarms of insects flew up and down on them, which they were powerless to drive away, leaving their faces and wounds covered in flies.

The remaining soldiers, who were still relatively "sane," devised a ridiculous yet cruel "death schedule" in order to survive each day.

Those who can stand: have about half a month left to live;

Those who can sit down: will not last more than ten days;
For those who can only urinate while lying down: three days;

Those unable to speak: two days;

Those who can't even blink: will be corpses by dawn.

As the chart became popular, the surviving soldiers stared at each other with an almost naked "predator's measure."

Anyone whose eyes dim down could become the next meal.

Yamagawa Masataka initially thought... he might as well just wait to die, since all of this was meaningless.

But just last night, as the torrential rain poured down, thousands of Japanese soldiers became so excited that they stretched out their tattered helmets, ammunition boxes, and even their bare hands to catch the rainwater.

In the darkness, soldiers knelt in the mud and wept bitterly. The rain had saved them for at least a few days, leaving even the slightest glimmer of hope in Yamashita Seiryu's heart.

Just when hope seemed to be glimmering, a deep rumble suddenly came from the ground, and the mountains shook.

The Shanxi militia's all-out offensive has finally begun.

Outside the tunnel entrance, artillerymen opened fire in unison, with mortars, field guns, and heavy artillery firing in succession. The firelight illuminated the damp mountains and fields after the rain, and the crumbling rocks, carrying scorched soil, tumbled down with a roar.

Amidst the deafening explosion, the soldiers in the tunnel were like animals trapped in a giant millstone, their eardrums ringing from the shock. Countless clods of earth and wooden beams collapsed, crushing several already dying soldiers flat on the spot.

On the outer perimeter of the guard hilltop, tens of thousands of soldiers from the newly arrived 11th, 12th, and 13th Regiments had already quietly launched an assault. Bayonets gleamed blue, rifles were pressed against bayonets, and the soldiers advanced rapidly, while the artillery barrage turned the entire ravine into a sea of ​​fire.

Cheng Rufeng led the "Pirate Flight Squadron" to provide air cover, patrolling at low altitudes and sweeping the remaining resisting hilltops with machine guns.

Amidst the smoke and flames, Yamagawa Masataka gripped a Nambu pistol, smiling blankly, his expression a mixture of deathly stillness, regret, and the last vestiges of pride.

"The Emperor..."

He opened his mouth, but before he could speak, the roar swallowed him up again.

(End of this chapter)