Bright Sword: The Flowers of War

Chapter 360 is not a good omen.

The winter of 1930 came exceptionally early and was exceptionally harsh.

As soon as November arrived, the biting north wind brought heavy snow, completely freezing the entire northern Shanxi region and covering it with a deep, knee-deep, deathly white layer.

The newly appointed commander of the Japanese First Army, Lieutenant General Teiichi Yoshimoto, was traveling in a special train, braving the biting cold wind, along the railway tracks that were mostly buried in snow, making his way towards Datong.

The wheels rolled over the snow-covered sleepers with a heavy, monotonous clanging sound, and the thick smoke billowing from the locomotive's chimney left long trails in the leaden sky.

As the train ventured deeper into the area and drew closer to the front lines, the muffled, thunderous sounds of artillery fire, previously obscured by the wind and snow, gradually became clearer, penetrating the train windows and striking the nerves of everyone inside the carriage.

Yoshimoto Teiichi, wearing a thick sheepskin military coat that almost wrapped him up like a bear, pushed open the cold carriage door and walked to the open connection at the rear of the carriage.

A gust of wind carrying ice shards suddenly rushed towards him, and almost at the same time, blinding light shone in, causing him to involuntarily squint and tears to well up instantly from the cold wind.

The cold wind brushed against my cheeks, like an invisible dagger cutting through me.

It was a deathly silent and bitterly cold dawn.

The endless snowfields reflected a cold glow in the dim morning light, like solidified, crystal-clear waves, surging towards the distant horizon where the gray sky met the earth.

A heavy, purplish-red sun hangs low above the snow-covered hills, emitting a faint, cold glow, devoid of any warmth.

The train stopped somewhere in the vast snowfield.

This is not a stop, but rather the road ahead is blocked by thick snow.

The wheels spun a few times before finally coming to a stop.

Two other trains, blocked by snow, were also stopped in front of the main train. Around the trains, on the ground frozen stiff by the severe cold, thousands of Japanese soldiers were densely packed together. They were all newly arrived reinforcements from the country, who had been hastily sent over after only two months of intensive training.

At this moment, these young people were shivering in the freezing cold of minus thirty degrees Celsius.

Many people were jumping and jostling, bumping their shoulders to keep warm, and patting their numb waists and legs with their gloved hands, their breath instantly condensing into frost.

"Hey... I'm frozen to the bone. This damn weather must be minus thirty-five or thirty-six degrees Celsius!" a Japanese soldier shouted, stamping his feet and chattering.

"Ugh! This awful weather!"

Another soldier rubbed his hands together, forcing a smile with the ignorant arrogance of a newborn calf, "Those Chinese pigs in Shanxi are probably hiding on their heated kang right now, wrapped in quilts and sweating profusely!"

"Exactly!" someone chimed in, with a blind faith in the new weapons. "The Empire's 'Type 92' infantry gun and 'Type 89' grenade launcher are top-notch in the world. By the time we get there, the Chinese positions will probably be reduced to ashes. We won't even have a chance to fight."

The youthful passion and arrogance were on full display at this moment. His clamor and unrestrained speculations drifted in the cold air, carrying an air of ignorance and frivolity before a doomsday carnival.

"Buzz...buzz...buzz..."

Just then, a low, continuous, and unusual vibration, distinct from the roar of a train and the sound of cannons, pierced through the biting cold wind and quickly became clearly audible as it approached.

The soldiers who had been jumping and huddling together for warmth on the snow suddenly froze, looking up in alarm at the gray sky.

"Enemy plane!"

A piercing scream, so sharp it was almost distorted, shattered the brief silence like an icicle!
At the same time, the anti-aircraft machine gun mounted on the top of the train roared like a startled beast.

"Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat..." The blazing tracer bullets lashed wildly towards the sky!
next second!
A piercing, ear-splitting shriek, with the force of a thunderbolt, overwhelmed the roar of the anti-aircraft guns, like the grim glint of death, plunging down upon the dense crowd on the snow and the stationary train! Closer and closer!

"The Chinese planes are coming... Scatter!" A desperate scream echoed across the snowy plains.

On the train's roof, the hoarse shouts of the air defense officer were almost drowned out by the deafening roar of gunfire.
"They are Shanxi militia's fearless dive bombers!"

The officer's voice carried an undisguised despair, clearly indicating that he was deeply impressed by the Death Bird, which had repeatedly caused the Imperial Army great suffering.

As he shouted, the anti-aircraft machine gun positions on the top of the train instantly erupted with an even more ferocious roar.

The dense trails of tracer bullets lashed out at the gray sky like the fiery whips of death! The roar of engines, the sharp whistling of shells tearing through the air, and the incessant howling of machine guns blended together to create a sound powerful enough to shatter eardrums.

Extreme cold is a major enemy of flight.

However, the ground crew of the Shanxi militia's flight squadron displayed astonishing quick wit.

Faced with temperatures below -30 degrees Celsius, they used the most "clumsy" yet most effective method... lighting a roaring fire to slowly heat up the cold, all-metal engines of the Dauntless dive bombers, taking enormous risks (overheated engines could cause in-flight shutdown or even fire and explosion). They successfully got some of the Dauntless bombers up and running, and these planes did not disappoint them, arriving as promised and becoming the noose for the Japanese troops.

Yoshimoto Teiichi had just struggled to reach the open carriage door when the scene before him shocked him.

On the vast white snowfield, thousands of soldiers with rifles scattered in terror like ants being doused with boiling water.

Experience told him that staying on a train was like being in a giant metal coffin.

He gritted his teeth, leaped out of the carriage, and his body slammed into the thick snow, creating a deep crater.

He scrambled and crawled, using both hands and feet to lunge towards a slightly higher slope nearby, slamming himself hard next to a figure who had just fallen down, sending snow flying instantly.

"boom!"

Almost the instant he fell, a violent, hurricane-like blast of air slammed into the back of his head and back! The immense impact made his vision blur and his ears ring. He fought off the dizziness and the feeling of suffocation, struggling to lift his head from the cold snowdrift.

Three silver-gray "Dauntless" aircraft, like hawks pouncing on their prey, swooped down once again towards the top of the train and the surrounding area.

Sunlight danced on their aluminum wings and transparent cockpit canopies, reflecting a dazzling light.

The anti-aircraft machine guns and rapid-fire cannons on the train spewed fire wildly, the barrage of bullets resembling a giant silver net. Bullets whistled past the fuselage, and the dense explosions made the diving fighter jet violently rock and sway like a small boat in a stormy sea!
However, the fearless pilots displayed astonishing courage and skill. They bravely withstood the steel storm that was enough to tear everything apart, like sharks breaking free of a fishing net, and bravely climbed into the sky after breaking through the barrage of bullets. Then, they plunged down, and the dark bombs fell from the belly of the plane.

"Boom! Boom!"

A heavy bomb exploded violently near the locomotive, the violent explosion twisting the rails. Broken sleepers and frozen soil mixed with ice and snow were engulfed by the orange-red fireball and shot into the sky like a small volcano.

The massive shockwave plowed deep craters into the snowfield, and soldiers who were nearby vanished without a trace in the whirlwind of ice, snow, and smoke, like scarecrows being swatted away by an invisible giant hand!

After dropping its bombs, the enemy plane did not move away. Instead, it continued to climb rapidly, turn around, and spin left against the blinding sun with dazzling maneuvers. In an instant, it adjusted its posture and, once again with a devilish shriek, swooped down towards the train and the dense crowd below.

This time, they not only dropped the remaining bombs, but also opened fire simultaneously with the 12.7 mm heavy machine guns mounted under the wings and in the nose!
"Da da da da da..."

The thick bullets, like scorching fire whips, lashed fiercely at the snow.

Those soldiers who lay down or ran became easy targets.

When a bullet hits a human body, it makes a dull, terrifying "thud" sound, easily tearing and penetrating the flesh.

A soldier, who had just been shot in the back, scratched at the snow a few times in vain before becoming still.

Another soldier ran around in terror like a headless fly, only to be struck in the waist by a volley of machine gun fire that swept in from the side. His body arched violently as if pierced by a red-hot steel rod, before collapsing limply onto the snow. Black smoke quickly billowed from the pierced cotton-padded coat.

"Don't run around! Lie down on the spot! Find cover!"

Not far away, a colonel who had recently arrived in Shanxi with Yoshimoto jumped out from behind a snowdrift where he was hiding, brandishing his saber in an attempt to maintain order and bolster morale.

However, his command became his swan song.

Before he could finish speaking, a burst of bullets from the machine gun, as if guided by eyes, precisely entered his back.

He felt as if he had been struck by an invisible hammer; the military knife flew from his hand, and he lunged forward, crashing heavily into the snow.

The excruciating pain instantly robbed him of consciousness. Before plunging into eternal darkness, he felt a strange, chilling silence... The roar of machine guns, the shrieks of airplanes, the booming of explosions... all sounds had vanished.

This colonel, who had come from afar from his homeland with high hopes and ambitions, didn't even have time to command a battle or fire his first bullet before his short and meaningless life ended on this foreign, icy snowfield.

His name, like countless others lost in the dust of war, is destined to remain unknown.

Yoshimoto Teiichi lay prone in the snow, witnessing this one-sided massacre. The cold snow pressed against his face, but the chill was far less than the coldness and humiliation in his heart.

Before even arriving at the Datong headquarters, his first stop on his journey to his new post was already in hell, where he witnessed firsthand the "bloody welcome gift" that Su Yaoyang presented to him.

…………

Located nearly a thousand miles from Datong, Shijiazhuang, a major city in North China, is now shrouded in an eerie silence.

Most of the shops on the street were closed, and there were few pedestrians. The few figures who hurried by carried an undisguised sense of panic and numbness.

Only the howling wind whipped up the dust and fallen leaves on the ground, making a mournful sound.

Amidst this bleak scene, a small convoy of vehicles broke the silence as it rolled across the cold road.

Two military trucks, fully loaded with heavily armed and vigilant Japanese soldiers, sped along the main road like two mobile steel fortresses, flanking a black Toyota luxury sedan that reflected a dark luster in the bleak winter light. The roar of the truck engines brutally crushed the tranquility of the streets.

The vanguard of the convoy consisted of several sidecar motorcycles.

The Japanese military police officers on the vehicle, dressed in crisp leather trench coats and gleaming helmets, scanned every window and corner along the road with eyes like hawks, vigilant for any possible threat.

Most striking were the two small, glaring Rising Sun flags fluttering in the wind on the gleaming hood of the black Toyota sedan! They were like a silent declaration, proclaiming the extraordinary status and power of the people inside the car.

Inside the car, the newly appointed commander of the North China Area Army, General Yasuji Okamura, sat upright. He remained perfectly still, as if sculpted from a rock, his back ramrod straight, without sinking into the softness of the luxury car seat.

He didn't speak the whole way, but stared intently through the car window at the empty and desolate street ahead.

In that gaze, there was no youthful exuberance upon taking office, only a sense of vigilance and ruthlessness, as if trying to see through the desolate streets and the conquered land, assessing every hidden danger and undercurrent of resistance.

The army chief of staff sitting opposite him remained silent as well.

He tilted his head slightly, his gaze falling on the city ruins and desolate scenes ravaged by iron hooves that flashed past the car window. His face was expressionless, only showing a kind of frozen solemnity.

The convoy traveled smoothly and soon entered the heavily guarded compound of the North China Area Army Headquarters, which was lined with sentry posts.

A screeching sound of brakes rang out, and the car came to a steady stop in front of the building steps.

Without waiting for the guards to open the door, Okamura Neiji pushed open the car door himself and stepped onto the hard, cold cement floor.

Before he could even take his first breath of air in this new place, a communications officer rushed out of the building like an arrow, almost stumbling as he ran to Okamura Yasuji.

His face was deathly pale, even his salute was distorted, and his voice trembled and became hoarse due to extreme tension and the weight of the information:
"Commander, urgent report!"

"Two hours ago... an urgent telegram from the First Army Headquarters in Datong, Shanxi!"

"The special train carrying Lieutenant General Yoshimoto Teiichi, the newly appointed commander of the First Army, is bound for Datong to assume his post..."

The staff officer's voice choked for a moment, as if speaking the next words required immense courage:

"They were subjected to heavy bombing by Chinese military aircraft en route!"

“Heavy casualties!”

"It has been confirmed... a regimental commander was killed on the spot! His escorts and reinforcements... suffered over a thousand casualties!"

The air froze instantly!

Even the biting wind seemed to stop howling in the face of this cruel and devastating news.

The moment Okamura Neiji heard the name "Yoshimoto Teiichi" and the casualty figures, his pupils, which were as deep as an ancient well, suddenly contracted, and a chilling coldness instantly spread along his straight back.

His already unusually serious face tightened even more.

He had just arrived on this land, and before he could even issue any orders, he had already lost a colonel, which was not a good sign.

(End of this chapter)