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

On the morning of September 26, fog rolled in at Sanglin'ao.

The valley of Sanglin'ao stretches for about eleven kilometers. The fog is not thick, swirling around the riverbank and tree roots. When the Japanese armored vehicles from the north drove in, their headlights flickered twice in the white mist, but their sound carried far. Every time a wheel rolled over a piece of gravel, the mountain walls on both sides echoed with a sound.

Leading the way were two armored cars, followed by four rows of infantry, supply wagons, mules and horses, and two mountain guns. The reinforced battalion, numbering about 1,100 men, stretched for more than three miles and was heading southwest to meet up with the troops being led back from the southeastern stronghold of Yangquan.

Not a single shot has been fired in the past seven days.

The Japanese search party came twice. The first time, they only saw two piles of old horse manure at the south entrance; the second time, they climbed up the stone beam at the north entrance and even drew an arrow on the white stone. The arrow has remained, and the several deliberately trodden muddy footprints by the roadside have been left untouched.

After they left, the signalmen dug out the telephone line from under the grass. The line, buried half a foot deep in damp soil, ran from the North Entrance observation post to the West Ridge artillery position. The previous night, the connection pit had flooded, and the two men had worked in the mud until dawn, their fingers white from being soaked, finally managing to suppress the static in the receiver.

The battalion of about 850 men had been lying in ambush on both sides of the hillside for five days.

Four mountain guns were hidden on the reverse slope, their wheels wrapped in sacks. Landmines were only buried at the two forks in the road and at the entrances of three dry gullies leading up the hillside. Duan Peng retreated from the direction of Yangquan, leaving him with only 280 cavalrymen, all of whom were stationed behind the forest belt at the southern entrance.

The Independent Regiment was officially replenished to 13,000 men. Thirty-one men killed in the southeastern raid on Yangquan were written off, and 1,031 qualified personnel from the rear training, guard, and supply systems were transferred to the official ranks to fill vacancies in their original battalions, as well as to transport and guard positions. Ordinary civilians, temporary support personnel, and prisoners of war were not included in the count.

Of the 1,031, 431 were local armed forces backbone members, and 600 were rear training and support personnel. The list was at the regimental headquarters, and the personnel were at their respective posts. No team temporarily entered Sanglin'ao to thicken the ambush line out of thin air.

These thousand men have nothing to do with the ambush in front of them.

The people from Sanglin'ao came in five days ago. They went through everything twice: which machine gun was positioned over which ditch, which side the stretcher should be taken off from, and who ran which line after the phone line was cut off.

Zhao Weiguo lay prone at the Beikou observation post, his binoculars never leaving the Japanese vanguard.

"How much?"

The telephone operator covered his other ear: "The vanguard has passed the second pile of stones, the main force is halfway through, and the supplies are still outside the valley."

"wait."

The battalion commander held the receiver, his palms damp with sweat from the wooden handle.

"The lead vehicle is almost at Nankou."

"Let it go."

"Walk another half mile, and you'll be out of the valley."

Zhao Weiguo was still looking at the bottom of the valley: "Duan Peng is outside."

No one on the hillside urged them on anymore.

The heavy machine gunner had already pushed the magazine catcher to his side, and the assistant gunner had closed the magazine cover again. An ant crawled onto the gun rack, and after looking at it for a while, the gunner finally flicked it into the grass with his fingernail.

The water in the telephone ditch had already reached the tops of his shoes. The communications soldier held the connector on his knees, afraid that the mud and water would seep in through the duct tape. Every time the receiver reported "one more step," the battalion commander would move a pebble on the wooden plank. When two-thirds of the pebble had passed, he didn't ask any more questions. If one less supply wagon entered the valley, there might be one more gap at the north entrance.

Behind the forest belt at the south entrance, all the cavalrymen dismounted. Cloths covered their muzzles, and damp grass lay around their hooves. Duan Peng slowly walked along the ranks, noticing a platoon leader touch his saber three times, then press down on the scabbard.

"Keep quiet. No horse riding without my permission."

The platoon leader lowered his voice: "Even if the enemy is in disarray, you're not going to pursue them?"

"The cannons are still firing, who are you trying to impress by charging in?"

"What if one of them manages to escape?"

"Put it in first. Wait until the people behind you crowd to the mouth before cutting it."

The platoon leader loosened his grip on the knife handle and lay back down in the mud.

Two-thirds of the Japanese column entered the valley. The supply wagons crossed the northern pass, and the two mountain guns reached the narrowest part of the riverbank. The rear guard sergeant paused near the white stone arrowhead, even kicking the stone with the tip of his boot.

Zhao Weiguo put down his binoculars.

"Finish it off."

The stone beam at the north entrance was blasted first.

The rearguard vehicle was overturned and blocked half the road. Two trees with their roots cut off fell with the ropes, their crowns and the barricades crashing into the ditch. Before the Japanese rearguard could disperse, the four mountain guns on Xiliang had already removed their camouflage.

There are a total of 96 shells, 24 per shell. Zhao Tieshan checked the fuses last night. Vehicles, enemy artillery, ammunition carts, and large groups of people can be hit, but it's not worth wasting them on scattered infantry.

The first shot went wide of the riverbed, splashing mud and water high into the air.

The artillery crew didn't manage to fire a second shot. The observer reported the distance again, the gunner adjusted the sights, and the second shot landed in front of the rear guard vehicle. The third shot hit the ammunition mule cart. The startled mules dragged the cart into the crowd, instantly turning the four-column formation into a chaotic mess.

Ninety-six shells were loaded into each gun, twenty-four shells per gun. After each shell was fired, the ammunition handler would mark a line on a wooden sign. No matter how intense the artillery fire, the loading operator had to wait for the observer to report the impact point. The first shell was already wasted; each subsequent shell would result in a blockage or have an enemy gun pinned down.

Two armored vehicles from the south also broke through the fog.

Duan Peng remained motionless.

The car in front had just passed the pre-buried spot, and the car behind had just turned into the bend when he raised his hand. Explosives by the roadside sent the right wheel of the car in front into the ditch, and the car behind swerved sharply, crashing diagonally into the mountainside, blocking the entrance to the valley.

The cavalrymen remained hidden behind the woods, using only two light machine guns to block the vehicle doors and road shoulders.

The battalion opened fire from both sides of the hillside. The left slope was used to suppress enemy mountain artillery, while two companies on the right slope cut off the infantry and supplies, and another company guarded the dry ditch on the east side. No one rushed into the valley in a chaotic rush.

The battalion commander guarded the telephone pit and would ask about the remaining ammunition at the artillery positions every now and then.

"Sixty-eight shots."

"Don't attack the dry ditch on the east side; leave it for the reserve company."

As expected, the Japanese troops headed into the gully. The gully was full of rocks, and although there seemed to be no one at the top of the slope, they found that the entrance was blocked by a platoon once they got inside. The gully was less than two hundred paces in total, and the machine guns were not firing. Dozens of men were crammed among the wet rocks, unable to retreat.

Half an hour later, a dozen or so rifles were thrown out.

By noon, the enemy troops began a fierce assault on Nankou.

The platoon leader climbed over to Duan Peng again: "Can you get on the horse now?"

The cannons in the valley are still firing.

"Lie down."

"The first few dozen have to run far ahead."

"Let them run into the forest belt."

The first group of Japanese soldiers rushed out of the valley, but seeing no movement in the woods, they ran along the road. The others, thinking the breach had truly opened, surged out, more than two hundred men crowding the wreckage of armored vehicles.

The last mountain gun shot of Xiliang landed.

Duan Peng drew his sword: "Mount your horse."

Two hundred and eighty cavalrymen charged out from both sides of the forest belt. They didn't charge head-on into the crowd, but only cut off the rear and flanks. The vanguard was driven towards the chevaux-de-frise, while the men behind were blocked by machine guns at the valley entrance. The cavalry only pursued and cut outside the forest belt, leaving the valley to the infantry.

At 1 p.m., the Japanese battalion commander led over two hundred men into the supply wagon formation. Blackened trucks, grain sacks, and mule carts formed a semi-circle; there weren't many machine guns, but their firing range was narrow. A direct assault would likely result in casualties.

Zhao Weiguo is not sure.

The captured Japanese sergeant carried a tin megaphone up the slope that morning. He first flipped through the prisoner registration book, seeing that names, unit numbers, and injuries were written in separate columns, before shouting into the valley: "No more reinforcements will come from the north. The route to Yangquan is cut off. Wounded soldiers can lay down their guns and be treated first."

Two shots were fired from below.

A shot grazed the stone, and the sergeant fell to the ground, the trumpet rolling half a meter away. He lay there for a while, then heard someone calling his name from below, and got up again.

"I'm alive!"

"Fujita from the Sixth Company is alive too!"

"Stop dying for the captain!"

The first rifle was thrown out from behind the vehicle formation much later.

Then came the second one, and the third one.

The wounded were carried out first, followed by those without bullets. The battalion commander led over a hundred die-hards, mingling with the surrendering troops, and suddenly charged north towards the pass. Having run out of artillery ammunition, the battalion allowed them to approach the stone beam before sealing the narrow opening with two heavy machine guns.

At 3 p.m., the gunfire in the valley stopped.

In nine hours, the Independent Regiment suffered 54 dead and 139 wounded. The enemy suffered 872 dead, 183 captured, and 45 escaped from the ravine on the east side.

Of the two captured mountain guns, one had its carriage broken and the other was awaiting repair; in addition, there were four Type 92 heavy machine guns, seven light machine guns, more than 500 rifles, more than 40 boxes of ammunition, three vehicles, and a batch of military rations.

The battlefield is not a place where everyone rushes to the bottom of the valley.

The wounded were transported from the north entrance, and prisoners were escorted from the south entrance. Vehicles were parked in the open space on the west side. The medical team tied different colored strips of cloth to the seriously wounded soldiers of both sides, and prisoners who could walk carried those who could not. A soldier drove a working car to the pile of guns and was about to load a weapon when he was called down by the battalion commander.

"Put on the stretcher first."

"Guns will rust if they get rained on."

"A person will die if they are caught in the rain all night."

Three cars were used to transport the wounded first. The rifles were wrapped in tarpaulin and handed over to a mule caravan for slow transport.

At dawn on September 27th, the last group of seriously wounded soldiers finally left Beikou. Zhao Gang separated the wounded from both sides on the evacuation list and then rechecked the 54 dead and 139 wounded against the roll call of each company. Those who could still speak yesterday might become seriously ill overnight; those who were temporarily out of contact could not be put into the dead column just to make up the numbers.

Two captured mountain guns were parked in the open space to the west. One gun carriage was blown apart, and only the parts were registered; the other had a wooden sign indicating it was in need of repair. Zhao Tieshan did not let them go with the next team. He checked the breechblock, sights, and ammunition types separately first, and whether they could still be used would be determined after the repair team signed off.

The cavalrymen watered their horses at the south gate. Each dead or wounded warhorse was registered; Duan Peng reported twenty-three lost horses. No matter how skillfully one branded their saber, they couldn't hide the horse tent.

Duan Peng finished copying down the numbers of the twenty-three horses before going to check on the wounded cavalrymen. The charge at Nankou had only covered a short distance, yet the horses' chests and legs were covered in mud and blood. While the platoon leader was still recounting which blow had struck a man, Duan Peng handed him the horse register, telling him to return the empty saddles first.

A deserter was discovered in the gully on the east side, and the battalion commander came to ask whether to pursue him.

Zhao Weiguo glanced at the map: "One company guarding the fork in the road can seal off the pass within nine kilometers."

"Those who ran away will send word."

"That's exactly what I wanted him to report."

Zhi Zi found a radio bag at the entrance of Donggou and found a bloodstained call sign form. The prisoners confessed that the radio operator carrying the main unit had escaped to Houerling, where Major General Ono, the commander of the northern route, was gathering the remaining troops.

Zhao Weiguo drew a pair of scissors in Sanglin'ao, with the snips facing Houerling.

The net here has been collected.

The next net has already been sent by someone else.