Not enough Japanese devils to kill? 1.4 billion people volunteer for the Battle of Shanghai.

Northwest direction.

Six Japanese tanks.

The sound of tracks rolling over the ground was dull and continuous.

"Boom—boom—boom—"

It touches the hearts of everyone.

It carried the scent of death.

With—

A suffocating sense of oppression.

On the Chinese front.

The soldiers of the 7th Company, 3rd Battalion, all raised their heads.

Those who were originally lying behind cover, waiting for the next charge.

Those who were covered in wounds and had run out of ammunition.

Those ones--

I've seen too many people die.

At that moment, everyone raised their heads.

Look in that direction.

Look at those increasingly larger dark shadows.

The first one I saw was Tian Dazhuang, a soldier from Hubei.

He lay prone behind the foremost cover.

He held a Hanyang rifle in his hand.

The gun is an old, worn-out weapon; the barrel is worn white from use.

There are three bullets left in the gun.

It was his last remaining asset.

It's him--

Our last resort.

His eyes were fixed on the ever-growing dark shadows.

The pupil is contracting.

"tank……"

"Damn it... the tanks are coming..."

Tian Dazhuang's hands suddenly began to tremble.

It wasn't trembling from fear.

It's instinct.

It's muscle memory.

It's ingrained in the bones, a reaction the body makes after witnessing too much death.

Because he had witnessed the power of tanks.

Two weeks ago.

It is located on the outskirts of Baoshan.

He saw it with his own eyes.

A Japanese Type 95 tank charged into their company's position.

At that time, they still had more than sixty people.

They had guns, grenades, and broadswords.

They ran out of bullets.

They threw all the grenades.

That tank is still charging.

Still grinding.

Finally, the old squad leader led three brothers, carrying cluster grenades, and rushed to the tank.

boom--!!!

The tank exploded.

The old squad leader and his three brothers were also gone.

Of the more than sixty men, only twenty-three remained after the battle.

Tian Dazhuang remembers.

The old squad leader was from Henan.

He speaks with a strong Henan accent and loves noodles the most.

When the explosion occurred, his body was blown in two.

His eyes were still open.

Looking up at the sky.

Looking at—

Those brothers he couldn't save.

Tian Dazhuang stayed by his side all night.

The next day, I buried him myself.

Buried in that scorched earth.

Buried under that charred locust tree.

Behind Tian Dazhuang was Liu Manzai, a young man from Hunan.

He was as thin as a stick.

It can be blown over by a gust of wind.

At that moment, he looked at the tanks and murmured to himself.

"Tanks...tanks are coming..."

He had seen him before.

On the north bank of Luodian, they encountered Japanese tanks for the first time.

At that time, they didn't know how to fight tanks.

Nobody taught me.

Nobody has said that.

Someone fired a gun.

The bullet bounced off, and nothing happened.

Someone threw a grenade.

A grenade exploded next to the tank, but the tank still kept charging forward.

Finally, the platoon leader led five brothers to rush up and blow it up with explosives.

The explosive charge detonated.

The tank stopped.

Those five brothers never stood up again.

The platoon leader was from Sichuan.

He loves to say "Laozi" the most.

Before he blew it up, he shouted:

"I'm going first, you guys follow!"

then.

Gone.

Everything is gone.

"Japanese tanks are here again, fucking."

Sun Tiezhu, a burly man from Shandong, swore loudly.

He was in his early thirties and had fought in the Central Plains War, seeing mountains of dead bodies.

When he was at Wusongkou, he personally witnessed a Japanese tank rolling over their company's position.

At that time, they had only forty-odd men left, guarding a trench.

When the tanks charged, not a single person in the trenches ran.

It's not that I don't want to run.

There's no escaping it.

The tank tracks flattened the trenches.

They even ran over people.

Sun Tiezhu survived because he was buried in the ground.

When he dug himself out of the soil, he saw his brothers turned into mincemeat.

He picked up the gun and kept shooting.

They've been fighting ever since.

"This thing is a bit tricky."

Zhang Shitou, a young man from Shaanxi, muttered to himself.

He was in his early twenties.

He was the most clueless one in the company.

They fight without regard for their lives.

While others were lying down, he was standing.

While others avoided him, he went to meet them.

He remembers.

When I first encountered a tank.

He rushed forward blindly, intending to smash it with the butt of his gun.

The veteran pulled him back.

He gave me a thorough dressing-down:

"Are you fucking asking for it?! That's a tank! A steel tortoise! ​​You think you can smash it with a rifle butt?!"

then.

He watched helplessly as the veteran, clutching a grenade, charged forward.

Blasted.

The veteran is from Shanxi.

He speaks with a strong smell of vinegar, and his favorite food is stir-fried cabbage with vinegar.

When it was fried, nothing was left.

Zhang Shitou searched for a long time afterward.

Only the pull ring of a hand grenade was found.

Copper.

It was blown up and became somewhat deformed.

He kept it in his pocket the whole time.

It was tucked into the innermost pocket of my chest.

It can be said that on the Shanghai battlefield...

Every Chinese soldier has seen a tank.

Each of them remembers the brothers who risked their lives to save the tanks.

Those carrying grenades.

Those carrying explosive packs.

Those who rushed up never came back.

Often, it takes a dozen, or even dozens of lives to buy a single tank.

Sometimes you can't even get a replacement.

and so.

When those six Japanese tanks came from the northwest—

The soldiers of the 7th Company, 3rd Battalion, recalled the scene of their comrades being crushed into mincemeat.

It's a wound that will never heal.

But at that moment...

An even louder roar followed.

The sound was louder than the tracks of Japanese tanks.

It's heavier.

More powerful.

picture--

The roar of a behemoth awakening.

"Boom—!!!"

The soldiers of the 7th Company, 3rd Battalion, suddenly turned their heads.

Look behind you.

Those three Kirin tanks, which have been lying there like mountains since the start of the war, have prevented a single Japanese soldier from getting close to China's defenses.

Moved.

First, the turret begins to rotate.

The 125mm smoothbore cannon was slowly raised.

The cannon muzzle is pointing northwest.

Pointing to the approaching Japanese tanks.

Then, the engine roared to life.

Three Qilin tanks.

side by side.

Slowly moving forward.

The car drove past the soldiers of the 7th Company of the 3rd Battalion.

A body of steel.

A massive shadow.

It blocked the sunlight from above their heads.

It concealed the fear in their eyes.

This moment.

Following the instinctive memories of the soldiers of the Seventh Company.

They suddenly remembered that they also had tanks on their side.

Our tanks can also move.

Tian Dazhuang raised his head.

He watched the Qilin tank drive past him.

Looking at that terrifyingly thick cannon barrel.

Look at that—

A weapon capable of turning Japanese tanks into scrap metal.

His hand.

It's stopped shaking.

Sun Tiezhu's brows relaxed.

He looked at the Qilin tanks, and a slow grin spread across his face.

"Damn it..." he laughed and cursed, "I almost forgot, we're people with tanks now."

Zhang Shitou was more direct.

He ran straight to the Qilin tank and reached out to touch its cold armor.

"Good heavens..." he muttered, "This thing is sturdy!"

He thought of the veteran who had sacrificed his life, and of the plate of stir-fried cabbage with vinegar that he never got to eat.

"Brother..." he said softly, "Did you see that...?"

"We have tanks now too."

"Bigger and harder than any you've ever seen."

"You...you can rest assured..."

"This time we don't have to risk our lives..."

P.S. Thank you to the lucky winner for the extra update!

I'll be updating a lot more tomorrow.

The current chapters are all setting the stage.

The groundwork is almost laid.

Soon, Bian Yun will lead his elite soldiers, piloting J-16 fighter jets, back to 1937 to annihilate the Japanese Third Division and recapture the entire Luodian.

That will be a major climax where many subplots come together...