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

The red flag fluttered on the roof of the county government office for half an hour.

The wind made the flag flutter loudly. When the monk cut the rope on the flagpole with his bayonet, a piece of rope was left, and that piece of rope swayed in the wind, making a soft tinkling sound when it touched the flagpole.

Zhao Weiguo squatted on the threshold of the main building of the county government office.

The monk had kicked the door to the main house. The door was askew, and the brass of the hinges were flattened. Inside, the radio was smashed into a pile of metal parts and wood chips. The regimental commander's sword was picked up by the monk; the brass ornaments on the scabbard were still intact, and there was blood on the blade.

Zhao Weiguo placed his command sword beside the threshold. The sword was too long for him to hold.

"casualties."

Zhao Gang walked in from outside.

He held a piece of paper in his hand. The paper had been taken from a filing cabinet in the county government office; the back was in Japanese, and the front had numbers written in pencil by Zhao Gang. His fingers were dusty, which he had rubbed off from the filing cabinet.

"Independent Regiment. 87 killed in action. 113 seriously wounded. Minor wounded not counted."

Zhao Weiguo took the paper and glanced at it.

"ammunition?"

"More than half of our ammunition has been used up. All thirty rounds of infantry gun ammunition have been fired. We have about forty mortar shells left. Each company can still fire two basic loads of light machine gun ammunition. Hand grenades are almost gone."

Zhao Weiguo returned the paper to Zhao Gang.

"What about Li Yunlong's side?"

"The New First Regiment suffered over forty casualties. Its ammunition consumption was low; it used many mortar shells in its feint attack but fired few bullets."

Where is Ding Wei?

"Ding Wei's messenger just left. His engineering platoon buried 150 jin of explosives under the stone bridge, to be detonated once the Japanese troops crossed. Wang Huaibao's company is on the mountain near Yangshuling; the terrain blocks the way for vehicles."

Where is Kong Jie?

Zhao Gang flipped the paper over to look at the back, then flipped it back over.

"Kong Jie's messenger arrived first. The battle at Yangshuling lasted nearly three hours. The Japanese launched five attacks. Kong Jie suffered over two hundred casualties, and his ammunition was running low. But the position was not lost."

Zhao Weiguo stood up.

He glanced at the red flag in the yard. The wind briefly unfurled the flag, revealing bullet holes. The edges of the bullet holes were charred black.

"Messenger."

Chen An ran over from the courtyard. His military uniform was covered in dirt, and there was a dried bloodstain on his face, from being hit by a brick during the street fighting earlier.

"Go find Ding Wei. Tell him that after the stone bridge was blown up, send someone to Yangshuling to meet Kong Jie. Kong Jie is running out of ammunition."

"Yes."

"Also, ask Ding Wei how much longer his New Third Regiment can fight."

"Yes."

Chen An ran out.

Zhao Weiguo stepped out of the door.

[At this point, I hope readers will remember our domain name: 20 ...

The Japanese soldiers' corpses in the courtyard had been moved to the base of the wall. Thirteen in a row. The regimental commander's body lay at the entrance to the main house, covered with a white sheet torn from inside. The white sheet was stained with blood.

The monk was boiling water in a corner of the courtyard using a Japanese soldier's helmet. The helmet was propped up on three bricks, with firewood burning underneath. Once the water boiled, the monk took a handful of fried noodles from his robes, poured them into the helmet, and stirred it a couple of times. The noodles dissolved in the boiling water, turning into a bowl of grayish porridge.

He scooped up a cup using an iron cup belonging to the Japanese army and brought it over.

"Take a sip."

Zhao Weiguo took it and drank a sip. The paste was hot and had a burnt smell. The fried noodles had been sitting for too long and had a rancid smell.

"Where did you get the fried noodles?"

"Old Hu gave it to me before I left last time. I've had it with me for three days now."

Zhao Weiguo returned the cup to the monk.

"Have Lao Zhou come over."

The monk, carrying his helmet, went to find Old Zhou.

Old Zhou walked over from the second courtyard. His military uniform was covered in dust, and the sleeve of his left arm was torn, revealing the cotton wadding inside. There was blood on the cotton wadding, but not much.

"The county government office has been cleared. There are still three living Japanese soldiers in the first courtyard; they surrendered. I sent someone to check the ammunition depot. Half of the ammunition boxes in the East City granary were taken by the Japanese; the other half is still there. Enough to replenish one round."

"What about the prison?"

"There are more than twenty people in the jail, some are civilians, and some are wearing Eighth Route Army uniforms. Yang Xiuqin has already been taken away by the medical team. I had the others sent out through the north gate."

Zhao Weiguo hummed in agreement.

There were footsteps in the courtyard.

Li Yunlong walked in through the courtyard gate.

His uniform was even dirtier than Lao Zhou's. His gray cotton-padded jacket was stained with brick dust and cigarette ash. His mule was outside, its reins tied to a crooked tree by the gate. He walked in and first glanced at the red flag in the yard.

"Wow. You planted this flag?"

"Old Zhou."

"Old Zhou is capable."

Li Yunlong walked to the door of the main room and glanced down at the regimental commander covered with a white sheet.

Who is this officer?

"Regimental Commander."

"Did you hit him?"

"I did it."

Li Yunlong crouched down, lifted the white sheet, and glanced inside. The regimental commander had two bullet holes in his chest and one in his head. He was lying face down, so his expression was not visible.

"Two shots to the chest and one to the head. You're pretty quick, kid."

He stood up and clapped his hands.

"The county town has fallen. But reinforcements from Taiyuan are still on their way. Have you heard about the situation with Kong Jie?"

"More than two hundred dead. The position was not lost."

Li Yunlong's expression changed. He stopped smiling.

"Two hundred. Kong Jie's new Second Regiment only has three thousand men at full strength. Two hundred is one-fifteenth."

He didn't say anything more.

How much ammunition does your new regiment have left?

"The mortar shells are mostly used up. Ammunition is still manageable. My men launched a feint attack today, so the losses weren't significant."

"Can you fight?"

"What are you hitting?"

"Reinforcements from Taiyuan."

Li Yunlong grinned.

"You brat, you're already attacking reinforcements after just taking the city?"

"If you attack the city but don't send reinforcements, you won't be able to hold it."

Li Yunlong thought for a moment. He reached into his cotton-padded coat and pulled out a cigarette. The cigarette was flattened, and tobacco shreds were peeking out from the paper seams. He took out a box of matches from his pocket; the matchbox was printed with Japanese characters. It was a captured item.

He lit a cigarette and took a puff. The glow of the cigarette butt illuminated his face.

"Okay. Let's fight."

Zhao Weiguo squatted down and drew a simple diagram on the muddy ground in the yard with a twig.

"The county seat is here. Taiyuan is here. This highway passes through Shibalipu. Ding Wei has set up ambushes on the high ground on both sides of Shibalipu. Kong Jie is at Yangshuling."

He drew an X between the county town and Shibalipu.

"The reinforcements are blocked at Shibalipu. If Ding Wei's resistance is broken, the reinforcements will advance straight to the west gate of the county town, and we won't be able to hold the town from the inside. We don't have enough ammunition."

So, you're not going to attack the defending city?

"Don't attack the defending city."

Zhao Weiguo drew an arrow on the south side of the county town.

"Leave one battalion to defend the city. The main force will exit from the south gate, bypass Shibalipu, and flank the reinforcements from the rear."

Li Yunlong took a drag of his cigarette.

"Attack from behind?"

"Attack from behind. Concentrate mortar fire on his supply convoy. Once the convoy is destroyed, they'll run out of ammunition and food. Without supplies, the reinforcements won't last two days in the mountains."

"If you take the main force out, who will stay in the city?"

"Old Zhou."

Old Zhou stood in the corner of the yard. He heard his own name called.

"One battalion. Guard the north and east gates. Take all the remaining ammunition from the depot."

Old Zhou walked over.

"Yes."

"All usable Japanese ammunition boxes seized from the county government office were moved to the north gate."

"Yes."

Li Yunlong threw the cigarette butt on the ground and stomped it out.

"Okay. I'll go back and assemble. We can leave in half an hour."

"No need to assemble. Your men should go directly out from the east gate and meet at Willow Gully outside the south gate."

"good."

Li Yunlong turned and walked towards the courtyard gate. He paused when he reached the gate.

"Zhao Weiguo."

"Um."

"Your Independent Regiment is crazy for fighting in urban warfare. Being crazy is better than dying."

He pushed open the courtyard gate and left. The mule brayed once outside the gate.

Zhao Gang squatted down next to Zhao Weiguo, looking at the simple diagram on the ground.

"How many people are you taking out?"

"Two battalions of the Independent Regiment. The entire New 1st Regiment."

Where is Ding Wei?

"Ding Wei is guarding Shibalipu. He can't move. If he moves, reinforcements will rush over immediately."

"Do we have enough ammunition?"

"Take all the Japanese ammunition we've captured from the city. We can also use the Type 38 rifle bullets."

Zhao Gang nodded. He wrote down a number on a piece of paper with a pencil.

What should be done with the list of the dead?

"Make a note of this. Report back after this battle."

Zhao Gang folded the paper and put it in his pocket.

Zhao Weiguo stood up. He smoothed out the simple diagram in the yard with his foot.

"Monk."

The monk stood up from the base of the wall. He had just finished drinking the bowl of fried noodles, and there was still a gray mark on the corner of his mouth.

"Summon Zhi Zi. Bring her pistol. Meet at the south gate in half an hour."

The monk ran out.

Zhao Weiguo walked towards the courtyard gate. He paused in the middle of the courtyard.

He glanced back at the courtyard.

The wind was still blowing. The bullet holes on the flag opened and closed in the wind.

He turned his head and walked towards the south gate.

Chen An waited outside the courtyard. He led two mules captured from the Japanese army. Ammunition boxes were strapped to the mules' backs. The wooden lids of the ammunition boxes were engraved with the Japanese army's unit number.

How many ammunition boxes are in there?

"Three thousand rounds of Type 38 rifle ammunition. Two hundred hand grenades. Sixty rounds of grenade launcher ammunition."

Zhao Weiguo responded.

He mounted the mule.

The mule's hooves made a soft, clattering sound on the stone pavement.

Gunshots rang out from the direction of the south gate. But the gunshots were far away. That was Kong Jie at Yangshuling.

The mule carried him toward Yangshuling. The gunshots from the south gate grew fainter and fainter.