You were tasked with guarding the Sihang Warehouse, and you brought out a Tiger tank?

"Commander! Commander!"

A staff officer, his face covered in soot, stumbled into the bunker where Zhang Wenzhong was:

"According to preliminary statistics, the number of dead is approximately 140, and the number of wounded, whether light or serious, is over 200."

The main problem was that the No. 3 machine gun bunker was directly hit, and a section of trench belonging to the 2nd Battalion of the 1st Regiment was also destroyed...

More than 140 people were killed in action.

This number, when placed in the context of a major battle that could determine the lives of tens of thousands, is not large.

But behind every number is a living life, the pillar of a family.

Zhang Wenzhong's heart clenched painfully.

But he knew that now was not the time for sadness.

"knew.

We need to get everyone involved to figure out a solution; we must plug the gap.

Tell the brothers that the Japanese artillery has stopped, and the infantry will be coming up soon.

"Everyone, perk up and prepare for battle!"

"yes!"

The staff officer turned and ran out.

Zhang Wenzhong straightened his uniform, put on his helmet, grabbed a submachine gun leaning against the wall, checked the magazine, and then headed out.

"Commander, where are you going?"

The chief of staff quickly stopped him.

"Go to the front lines."

Zhang Wenzhong's attitude was very firm:

"Our division has been reinforced by too many defeated soldiers and new recruits."

At times like these, I, as the division commander, must go to the front line.

"Without me, morale is low."

The chief of staff panicked:

"Commander, it's too dangerous!"

The Japanese artillery has just stopped, and their infantry is about to advance. You…”

"It's precisely because I'm coming up here that I have to go."

Zhang Wenzhong interrupted him:

"You stay at the command post and coordinate the various regiments."

Tell the brothers that the division commander is with them.

After saying that, he pushed the chief of staff aside and started to walk out.

"Commander! Commander!"

Several staff officers and guards surrounded him and held him back.

"Get out of the way."

Zhang Wenzhong's face darkened.

"Commander, if something happens to you, our division will truly fall apart."

The chief of staff earnestly advised:

"How about this, you go to the regimental headquarters of the First Regiment."

It was less than 500 meters from the front line, a location that could both stabilize morale and be relatively safe.

Zhang Wenzhong remained silent for a few seconds.

He knew this was the bottom line his subordinates could accept.

In the early stages of the War of Resistance against Japan, a considerable number of division and brigade commanders of the National Revolutionary Army sacrificed their lives on the main battlefields.

Why?

Because of the uneven quality of the troops, in order to prevent morale from collapsing, these senior officers had to go to the front line to lead the troops in attack or defense, rather than simply sitting in the rear.

This is a helpless situation, but it's also reality.

"it is good."

Zhang Wenzhong finally nodded:

"Go to the regimental headquarters."

The order was to be passed down that the division commander had arrived at the front lines and was going to live and die with the brothers.

"yes!"

The staff officers finally breathed a sigh of relief.

Then, surrounded by several guards, Zhang Wenzhong strode out of the bunker.

Outside, the smoke of battle had not yet dissipated.

Sunlight struggled to penetrate the smoke and dust, casting a dim, yellowish glow over the ravaged battlefield.

The group quickly ran towards the front line of defense.

There were bomb craters everywhere there.

The larger ones have a diameter of over ten meters and a depth of up to waist-deep.

The trenches had collapsed in many places, and broken logs and twisted steel plates were everywhere.

The air was filled with the pungent smell of gunpowder and a faint stench of blood.

But the soldiers had already crawled out of the gun shelters.

They brushed the mud off their bodies, checked their weapons, and, urged by their officers, quickly moved into the remaining trenches and firing positions.

"Commander!"

"The division commander is here!"

The soldiers around Zhang Wenzhong were invigorated when they saw him appear in the trench.

With their division commanders on the front lines, what are they afraid of?

Zhang Wenzhong nodded, said nothing more, and strode towards the regimental headquarters.

At the same time, the Japanese attack began.

The 41st Infantry Regiment attacked from the front, and the 42nd Regiment from the left flank. The two regiments, totaling nearly five thousand men, surged toward the defensive line of the Provisional 50th Division like two tidal waves of earthen yellow.

Following standard tactics, the 42nd Regiment dispatched a reinforced company of about two hundred men to attempt a flanking maneuver from the north side of the battlefield.

The terrain there looked relatively flat, which seemed like a good starting point.

However, when the Japanese soldiers rushed into that area, they realized that something was wrong.

"Baka! What the hell is this place?"

The Japanese company commander leading the team stepped down, and half of his leg instantly sank into the mud.

He struggled to pull his foot out; his boot was covered in black mud.

"Reporting to the captain, the area ahead is all swamp and paddy fields."

The sergeant from the elite platoon ran back to report, his face grim:

"The ground is too soft, you can't walk fast at all."

Moreover, there were puddles everywhere, making it impossible for troops to deploy.

"Never mind, let's keep going."

The squadron leader gritted his teeth:

"What's a little difficulty if we can get around to the Chinese flank?"

However, they soon paid the price for underestimating their opponents.

Because of the slow movement through the mud, the entire squadron was completely exposed in the open.

On the opposite side, several Maxim heavy machine guns immediately targeted them.

"Da da da, da da da, da da da—"

The rhythmic bursts of short bursts of fire rang out.

Bullets whizzed past, hitting the muddy water around the Japanese soldiers and splashing up a series of water droplets.

In the first round of volley fire, seven or eight Japanese soldiers were taken down.

"Lie down, lie down now!"

The Japanese company commander hurriedly gave the order.

But lying in the mud and water made movement even more difficult.

Moreover, they discovered an even more serious problem—the distance was too great.

The straight-line distance from their current position to the Chinese army's position is more than one kilometer.

The Japanese grenade launchers had a maximum range of only about 400 meters, which was far too short to reach their targets.

The heavy machine gunner on the opposite side was clearly a seasoned veteran.

He even played "beyond shooting".

So-called overshoot firing means that the machine gunner raises the muzzle so that the bullet flies in a certain parabolic trajectory, overcoming the obstacles in front and hitting the target behind.

This firing method places extremely high demands on the shooter, requiring precise calculation of the firing angle and trajectory.

But once mastered, it can create effective suppression over long distances.

"Da da da, da da da—"

The bullets seemed to have eyes, constantly landing around the Japanese company.

Although the hit rate was low due to the distance, the whooshing sound of bullets flying overhead and the gruesome sight of comrades falling from the sky after being shot still terrified the Japanese soldiers.

The timeline instantly shifts back to the Battle of the Western Front during the last World War.

As it turned out, machine guns, barbed wire, and muddy ground were simply not something that infantrymen with only flesh and blood could withstand.

At that time, the new recruits of the Kitchener Corps emerged from the trenches in dense formation and launched a frontal attack on Hans's position.

As a result, the casualties were extremely heavy under the intense crossfire of the MG08 heavy machine gun.

On July 1 alone, the Johns suffered approximately 57,000 casualties, with nearly 20,000 killed in action.

And the fate of this Japanese infantry company was no better than that of John the Man.

Before they even reached the barbed wire fence erected by the defenders, the Japanese company commander broke down.

In the muddy ground less than 2 kilometers long, there lay the corpses of nearly half a company of Japanese soldiers.

"Baka! Retreat! Retreat now!"

The remaining Japanese soldiers retreated in the mud, tumbling and crawling, leaving behind more than a dozen corpses.

The entire roundabout operation was a complete failure.

The message was relayed back to Kunisaki Noboru's command post.

"What?! There's a swamp to the north? No way to get around it?"

Kunisaki Noboru's expression was rather unpleasant.

He walked up to the map and examined it carefully.

The northern side of the battlefield was indeed marked with a large network of waterways and wetlands.

The right wing is the mighty Yangtze River.

This meant that his troops were unable to make any tactical maneuvers and could only launch a head-on assault.

"Sir, what should we do?"

The chief of staff asked in a low voice.

Kunisaki Noboru remained silent for a moment, a ruthless glint flashing in his eyes.

He suddenly drew his command sword and pointed it at the opposite position:

"Gentlemen!"

His voice echoed throughout the entire command post:

"The time has come to emulate the war god, Maresuke Nogi."

It was just a few heavy machine guns and some rudimentary fortifications.

What have the mighty warriors of our great Japanese Imperial Army to fear?

He paused, then his voice suddenly rose:

"Success or failure hinges on this moment."

The entire army pressed forward and charged.

With our samurai swords and bayonets, we tore through the enemy's defenses.

Charge!

"Banzai, Banzai, Banzai!"

The officers in the command post shouted in unison, their faces showing fanaticism.

The order was quickly relayed to the attacking troops.

Perhaps they had eaten something strange, because the Japanese soldiers seemed to have been injected with stimulants, howling and speeding up their charge.