The Courtyard House: The Little Red Devil Returning from the Peninsula

The first snow of the winter fell at Baimaling.

The snow was light; fine snowflakes were swept down at an angle by the wind, landing on the still-wet bloodstains at the entrance of the regimental headquarters. The bloodstains were left from the aftermath of the battle at Guancaigou, during the evacuation of the wounded, stretching from the medical team all the way to the steps of the regimental headquarters, and had been trampled black. The snowflakes that landed on them melted within seconds, turning into pale reddish water stains.

Zhao Weiguo stood at the entrance of the regimental department for a while.

The wind blew in from the ridge, carrying the scent of pine needles and damp earth. His cotton coat collar was turned up, his hands were in his pockets, and his enamel mug was tucked under his arm. The distant ridge was already covered with a thin layer of white snow, blurring the outlines of the bushes and rocks.

He stood at the doorway for a while, watching the snowflakes fall onto the withered grass beside the steps. The grass was already yellow, and the stems were still speckled with mud. The snowflakes covered the mud with a layer of white.

He turned and went back into the house.

Inside the regimental headquarters cave dwelling, a charcoal fire burned bright red, occasionally crackling and sputtering sparks. Zhao Gang sat at the table organizing documents, a stack of papers spread out in front of him containing troop numbers and weapon lists from each battalion. Zhao Weiguo sat down opposite him, placing his enamel mug on the table.

The results are in. Yamamoto's Special Forces ambush operation was rated A for completion, but Yamamoto's escape resulted in a deduction of one level.

8,600 points have been credited, bringing the total to 12,400. The redemption list has been updated with medicine and rifles, and there are ten packets of sulfanilamide powder.

Zhao Weiguo picked up his enamel mug and took a sip of water. The water was cold, but he didn't mind. He had enough points to exchange for ten packets of sulfanilamide powder, and he still had quite a bit left, but he wasn't in a hurry to exchange them.

"Meeting."

Meetings for officers at the battalion level and above were held in the regimental headquarters cave dwelling. Old Zhou, Zhi Zi, Monk, Chen An, and the battalion commanders and deputy battalion commanders of each battalion were present. The cave dwelling was small; a dozen or so people stood in a circle, some against the wall, others squatting beside the charcoal fire. The air was filled with the dry smell of the charcoal fire and the stench of sweat from the people.

Zhao Weiguo did not provide a lengthy summary.

"Each person has three sentences. What you did well in this battle, what you didn't do well, and what you want to improve next time. Old Zhou, you go first."

Old Zhou stood beside the charcoal fire, his right hand still wrapped in gauze. He thought for a moment.

"The assault team advanced quickly enough, taking less than four minutes to get from the mouth of the ditch to the north end of the pit. The downside was that the formation broke up when entering the pit, and two men were nearly injured by shrapnel from their own grenades. Next time, call a halt before entering the pit, regroup, and then proceed."

Zhao Weiguo nodded.

Gardenia.

Gardenia leaned against the corner of the wall, a Type 38 rifle standing beside her. The pockmarks on her face were clearly visible in the firelight.

"When suppressing Tanaka's group, the first shot missed. It hit a rock, and the ricocheted bullet finally struck the person. There was an error in judging the distance; I thought it was 120, but it was actually 150. Next time, I'll check the distance twice with the crosshairs before firing."

"Monk."

The monk stood at the doorway; the gauze on his arm had been changed, but it was still in a sling. He scratched his head with his uninjured hand.

"I killed two in close combat, but the third almost stabbed me from the side. Oh no, I didn't check my sides before entering the crevice. Next time, I'll throw a grenade in first."

After listening to the three people, Zhao Weiguo remained silent for a few seconds.

"Me too. Letting him get away is something I didn't do well enough."

No one answered. The wind outside the cave picked up, making the charcoal fire flicker.

Zhao Weiguo stood up and walked to the map on the wall. The map marked the terrain around Baimaling, with red arrows indicating the attack route from Guancaigou and blue crosses indicating Yamamoto's escape route. He drew a line on the map with his finger.

"Three key points for winter training."

His finger pointed at the map.

"First, night combat. Yamamoto's special forces are experts in nighttime infiltration. We attacked Coffin Gully in the middle of the night, but that was a well-prepared ambush. If we're infiltrated next time, can we find them and intercept them at night? Old Zhou, select thirty men from the First Battalion to form a night combat tactics squad, and train them in two nighttime exercises every week."

Old Zhou nodded.

"Secondly, snipers. Zhi Zi, select twenty skilled marksmen from the entire regiment to form a sniper platoon."

"Not only do you need to be accurate, but you also need to be able to infiltrate, move around, and fire continuously from 300 meters away without revealing your position. The training period is two months."

Gardenia simply nodded.

"Third, communications. Chen An, the shortwave radio we captured, plus the two Zhao Tieshan is currently testing, makes a total of three. One for the First Battalion, one for the Second Battalion, and one for the Regimental Headquarters, establishing a battalion-level communications network. From now on, in battle, I can see the location and status of each battalion from the Regimental Headquarters."

Chen An responded.

Zhao Gang flipped through the documents in his hand and took over the conversation.

"Expansion Progress Report. The regiment currently has 4,872 personnel, which is 128 short of the 5,000-person strength requirement."

"The new recruits in each battalion are currently undergoing training, which will be completed in three-month cycles, and the battalions will be full-strength by February next year."

Zhao Weiguo shook his head.

"It's too long. Compress it to two months."

Zhao Gang looked at him.

"With a two-month training period, the risks for new recruits going into battle are much greater."

"There might not be time to train in three months."

Zhao Gang didn't argue anymore. He closed the document and wrote a line on the cover: "Training cycle changed to two months."

Zhao Weiguo marked several more locations on the map: ammunition depots of Zhao Tieshan's arsenal and supply lines for each battalion. After marking them, he stepped back, looked at them, and said nothing.

The meeting adjourned. The battalion commanders and deputy battalion commanders emerged from their cave dwellings one after another, walking towards their respective barracks through the thin snow. Some were discussing the training arrangements in hushed tones, while others rubbed their hands together as they headed towards the mess hall. Old Zhou was the last to leave. He paused at the doorway, glancing back at Zhao Weiguo. Zhao Weiguo remained seated at the table, holding an enamel mug, his eyes still fixed on the map on the wall.

Old Zhou is gone.

Only Zhao Weiguo and Zhao Gang remained in the cave dwelling. The charcoal fire had almost burned out, leaving only glowing embers. Zhao Gang added a few more pieces of charcoal to the brazier, sending sparks flying.

The sound of horses' hooves came from the entrance of the regiment headquarters.

It was urgent. The horse's hooves thumped on the thin snow before stopping at the doorway. Someone dismounted, their boots clattering on the steps.

The cave door was pushed open. A cold wind carrying snowflakes rushed in, scattering embers like flying embers. A communications soldier, covered in snow, stood in the doorway, his face purple with cold, his lips chapped, and a thin layer of ice on his uniform, clutching an oil paper package in his hand.

"Urgent order from brigade headquarters."

Zhao Weiguo stood up and took the oil paper package. The oil paper was wrapped in a layer of cloth, which was damp with snow. He untied the cloth, opened the oil paper, and inside was a piece of paper. The writing on the paper was in the handwriting of Staff Officer Qin, but the last line was a personal note from the old brigade commander.

He glanced at it. The paper contained only a few lines: The brigade headquarters ordered the Independent Regiment to launch a main attack on Ping'an County, with the New First Regiment and the New Third Regiment coordinating, to complete preparations within ten days.

He handed the paper to Zhao Gang.

After Zhao Gang finished reading, he looked up at Zhao Weiguo.

"Ping'an County?" Zhao Gang gasped. "Eight-meter-high walls, four corner watchtowers, and at least a regiment of soldiers defending it. The brigade headquarters is giving us a tough nut to crack."

Zhao Weiguo folded the order and put it in his pocket.

"If the brigade headquarters orders us to fight, then we fight."

Zhao Gang placed the documents on the table and remained silent. He walked to the entrance of the cave dwelling and looked at the snow outside. The snow was heavier than before, and the pine trees on the mountain ridge were already covered in white.

The communications soldier was taken away by Chen An to get something to eat. Only two people remained in the cave dwelling.

Zhao Weiguo walked to the door and stood on the steps. Snow fell on his shoulders, quickly melting, leaving a damp patch on the shoulder of his cotton coat. He carried an enamel mug, the water inside already cold.

He thought of Ping'an County. Eight-meter-high city walls, four corner watchtowers, a regiment of three thousand men. The ambush tactics of Guancaigou wouldn't solve the problem.

Old Zhou walked over from the nearby cave dwelling and stood beside him. The two looked at the distant mountain ridge in silence. Snowflakes stung their faces. The smell of porridge cooking wafted from the direction of the distant cookhouse, mingling with the cold wind, and had a sweet aroma.

Old Zhou spoke first.

"Commander, are you familiar with Ping'an County?"

Zhao Weiguo took a sip of water. The water was so cold it stung his teeth.

"Yes. But I have to go check it out first."