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

After the Japanese skirmish lines were broken, they did not retreat immediately.

The fallen corpses in the front row became cover for the soldiers behind. Several Japanese soldiers lay prone behind the dead, firing their Type 38 rifles at the city wall. Bullets struck the sandbags, kicking up clouds of yellow dust.

The deputy battalion commander lay prone behind the battlements, his face scratched and bleeding from broken bricks.

"They won't back down?"

Zhao Weiguo replaced the magazine and the bolt clicked shut.

"If you quit, you've died for nothing."

In the moat, a Japanese officer stood up from behind a cart, raised his sword, and shouted a string of words.

The garrison soldier surnamed Meng raised his gun, ready to fire.

Zhao Weiguo held down the barrel of his gun.

"Don't hit him."

Why?

"If he dies, the men below will scatter. If he's kept alive, they'll have to keep charging forward."

The soldier surnamed Meng was stunned for a moment, then grinned.

"That's a pretty underhanded trick of yours."

After the officer finished shouting, the reserve troops pressed forward again. This time it wasn't a skirmish line, but a dense formation, charging forward shoulder to shoulder, like a gray wall pushing forward.

Old Xu saw it, and his throat tightened.

"Are they crazy?"

Zhao Weiguo stared at the wall of people, the blue lines in his eyes pulsating rapidly.

[Enemy tactical change: concentrated charge]

[Purpose: To fill the gap with human lives]

[Weakness: Dense formation, high efficiency in firepower coverage]

He turned to look at the deputy battalion commander.

"Don't be stingy with machine gun ammo."

The deputy battalion commander gritted his teeth.

"That's it after you finish."

"If we don't fight, the person will be dead."

The deputy battalion commander suddenly stood up, his roar shaking the city bricks.

"Two machine guns! Hold the center! Rifles on the flanks! Save the grenades!"

The Czech-made light machine guns opened fire simultaneously.

Da da da da!

Bullets swept across the ground, penetrating the wall of men. The front ranks of Japanese soldiers fell like wheat cut down by a sickle, row after row. But the rear ranks continued their charge, stepping over the corpses, their bayonets gleaming coldly in the morning light.

The Meng-surname garrison and the lean soldiers, armed with Type 38 rifles, specifically targeted the Japanese troops attempting to flank them.

Snap! Snap! Snap!

The gunshots were short and sharp; each shot took a life.

But the Japanese army continued to advance.

Fifteen steps.

Twelve steps.

Ten steps.

The deputy battalion commander's fingers gripped the grenade's pin.

"Ready to throw the bomb!"

Zhao Weiguo suddenly spoke.

"wait."

The deputy battalion commander turned his head.

"Still waiting?"

"Wait until they reach the edge of the pit."

The shallow pit outside the city was still there, blasted out last night, filled with black water and broken bricks. When the Japanese soldiers rushed to the edge of the pit, their formation was forced to break apart; some jumped over, some went around it, and some stepped into the water.

It was in that very moment.

Zhao Weiguo waved his hand downwards.

"Throw!"

More than twenty hand grenades flew down from the city wall and landed on the edge of the pit.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The puddles exploded, and black mud and blood splattered onto the city walls. The Japanese troops were blown into pieces; those in front tried to retreat, while those behind continued to charge, colliding together, bayonets piercing their comrades' backs.

The machine guns on the city wall took the opportunity to suppress the attack.

Da da da!

The human wall finally broke.

The Japanese troops began to retreat, dragging their wounded soldiers and leaving their bodies behind, before retreating back to the moat.

A roar erupted from the city wall.

"They've driven them back!"

"It's been cancelled again!"

The deputy battalion commander leaned against the sandbags, his chest heaving violently. He glanced at the remaining ammunition.

Two bullet boxes were empty.

There are only five grenades left.

The two light machine guns had fewer than three ammunition plates in total.

He turned to look at Zhao Weiguo.

"Mr. Zhao, how much longer can we hold out?"

Zhao Weiguo did not answer.

He stared at the Japanese officer outside the city.

The officer was still standing, his sword still raised, and he was still shouting.

But behind him, another group of Japanese soldiers advanced from the east side of the bridge.

Not infantry.

He was an engineer.

They carried explosives, bamboo ladders, shovels, and crowbars.

Zhao Weiguo's gaze darkened.

"They're trying to undermine the foundation."

The deputy battalion commander's face turned pale.

"Digging up the base of the wall?"

"If you stuff a bomb in there, the entire section of the city wall will collapse."

The soldier surnamed Meng held his gun, his fingers trembling.

"What should we do then?"

Zhao Weiguo looked at the Type 92 infantry gun that had just been towed back from the city wall.

The cannon was still covered in mud and blood, and the breech was steaming.

He turned and walked toward the gun emplacement.

"Push the cannon over here."

The deputy battalion commander was taken aback.

"No shells!"

Zhao Weiguo squatted down next to the cannon and pressed his palm against the breech.

"Who says it has to be artillery shells?"

Old Xu leaned against the sandbag, his eyes wide open.

You wouldn't be thinking of...

Zhao Weiguo picked up a few broken bricks from the ground and grabbed a handful of iron nails, stuffing them all into the cannon barrel.

"Push the cannon. Aim at the riverbed."

The garrison commander surnamed Meng and several soldiers pushed the cannon to the edge of the breach, aiming the cannon at the outside of the city.

Zhao Weiguo adjusted the angle of the gun barrel, his eyes precisely calculating the trajectory of the bullet using the blue line.

[Imprompt Ammunition: 3 Broken Bricks, 27 Iron Nails]

[Range: Extremely short]

[Lethality Range: Fan-shaped, 15 meters]

[Recommendation: Close-range shotgun effect]

He looked at the team of engineers who were reaching towards the base of the wall.

Twenty meters.

Eighteen meters.

Fifteen meters.

"ignition."

The deputy battalion commander gritted his teeth, grabbed a still-smoking fuse, and stuffed it into the breechblock behind the gun breech.

boom!

A burst of fire shot out from the cannon muzzle.

Broken bricks and iron nails swept across the base of the wall like a handful of scattered iron filings.

The engineering corps was riddled with bullets; those carrying explosive packs fell in droves; bamboo ladders broke into pieces; shovels flew into the air only to crash down and embed themselves in the mud.

There was a moment of silence on the city wall.

Then a deafening roar erupted.

"good!"

"Hit!"

The deputy battalion commander grabbed Zhao Weiguo's shoulder, his eyes frighteningly red.

"Mr. Zhao, your head..."

Zhao Weiguo pushed him away and pointed outside the city.

"Don't be too happy yet."

Two more teams of engineers advanced from the east side of the bridge in the distance.

Moreover, this time, they were followed by a Type 92 heavy machine gun.