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

The tall, thin officer's hand was still resting on the edge of the table.

The static coming from the telephone line was like a saw, cutting back and forth through the nerves of the room.

The staff officer gripped the receiver, his throat tightening.

"Wanping said that the repair team was stopped by sniper fire from the direction of the houses to the northeast when they were less than thirty steps out of the city. One utility pole fell down, and the spare line could not get through."

The tall, thin officer stared at the map.

"Send a platoon to provide backup."

Zhao Weiguo reached out and pressed down on the corner of the map.

"We cannot send out the entire row."

Several people in the room were looking at him at the same time.

The staff officer frowned.

"You're even getting involved in troop deployments now?"

Zhao Weiguo placed two spent shell casings outside a civilian house in the northeast, and then pressed a piece of broken gun steel against the southwest gap.

"What the Japanese want is for you to withdraw men from the southwest. Once a platoon is moved, the firepower at the southwest breach will be weakened. When the artillery fires, more men will have to be brought in to reinforce the city walls."

The tall, thin officer didn't scold him, he only asked:

"Then who do you suggest sending?"

Zhao Weiguo picked up a pencil and drew three short lines on the map.

"Don't go out through the city gate. Have two telephone operators carry the line, and three soldiers with good marksmanship follow behind. Go along the abandoned wall on the north side. The repair isn't about reconnecting the pole; it's about bypassing the break and laying a temporary line into the city first."

The staff officer looked down at the lines.

"There's a ditch along this road."

"Ditches can block the view."

Zhao Weiguo then chose the back alley of a residential house.

"Then have a light machine gun fire a feint from inside the northeast gate, hitting the wall but not the people. This will force the snipers to change positions. Once the gunfire stops, the telephone operator will cross the ditch."

Han Fucheng rested his hands on the table.

"Wanping doesn't have much light machine gun ammunition right now."

Zhao Weiguo looked at him.

"Fire five bursts and then stop. It's not about killing people, it's about scaring them."

The tall, thin officer reached out and picked up a red pencil, circling the line drawn by Zhao Weiguo.

"Send it this way."

The staff officer was stunned.

"Sir, this..."

The tall, thin officer raised his eyelids.

"Do you have one that's faster?"

The staff officer shut up and picked up the phone.

"Wanping, record! Northeast front: advance along the abandoned wall and ditch on the north side, two telephone operators, three providing cover, five short bursts from the light machine gun inside the northeast gate..."

A series of crackling static came from the other end of the phone, followed by someone shouting a repeat.

Zhao Weiguo did not wait for the result.

He moved the piece of broken gun steel at the southwest gap on the map half an inch to the right.

"The Japanese artillery positions will also be moved."

The tall, thin officer lowered his head.

"Where to move it?"

"The dilapidated houses east of the bridge have been demolished; they won't stay near the ruins anymore. They'll head here."

Zhao Weiguo pointed to a place marked "earthen burial mound".

"There are burial mounds and tree roots here, which can jam the gun barrels and minimize the exposure of the cannon muzzle. We can aim for the southwest corner of Wanping at a good angle."

Han Fucheng spoke in a low voice.

"We passed by there last night, there were potholes, and the car was difficult to drive on."

"Infantry guns don't need to be pushed into position by vehicles. They can be dragged by people."

Zhao Weiguo placed a Japanese shell casing horizontally behind the earthen burial mound.

"The artillery will fire two test shots first. The first shot is too low, so the second shot will correct it. As soon as Wanping sees the impact point of the first shot, he will tell the mortars not to fire at the muzzle, but to fire five paces behind."

The tall, thin officer looked at another staff officer beside him.

"remember."

This time, the staff officer didn't hesitate and his pen flew across the paper.

Footsteps could be heard outside.

The messenger led in two ordnance department personnel in blue-gray uniforms, followed by an elderly technician with gray hair. As soon as the old technician entered, his eyes were fixed on the broken spring plate on the table.

"Who said the Type 92 spring plate groove would crack if it deformed?"

Zhao Weiguo looked up.

"I."

The old technician's eyebrows shot up when he saw him.

"baby?"

Han Fucheng chuckled softly.

"Don't glare at him too soon, he just glared away the gun emplacement on the east side of the bridge."

The old technician ignored Han Fucheng, picked up the broken piece of the spring plate, and scraped the deformed area with his fingernail, gradually suppressing the arrogance on his face.

"This was caused by the cartridge plate being pulled off forcefully after overheating from continuous firing. The groove became rough, and the receiver was subjected to uneven stress."

Zhao Weiguo nodded.

"So it can't be moved. If the gun shakes, the groove will crack and hit the locating pin."

The old technician looked up and examined him again.

"You've handled the whole gun?"

"I touched it."

"What number gun?"

Zhao Weiguo reported the serial number of the receiver.

The old technician stopped.

This time, no one in the room laughed.

The tall, thin officer pushed the war newspaper forward.

"Master Zheng, take two men to Wanping and check on that Type 92 rifle. Do as this kid says: seal it up, survey it, and repair it if possible. Don't touch the whole gun."

Master Zheng stuffed the broken piece of the spring plate into his cloth bag.

"I need to bring measuring tools, whetstones, calipers, and two bodyguards."

Zhao Weiguo interjected.

"Bring more wooden wedges. Don't weld the broken leg of the gun mount."

Master Zheng turned his head.

Why?

"The steel has already been overheated; hasty welding will make it brittle. Let's hold it for now and wait for it to cool completely before proceeding."

Master Zheng stared at him for a long time, then suddenly roared at the messenger.

"Did you hear that? Wooden wedge!"

The messenger nodded immediately.

"I heard you!"

The staff officer next to the phone suddenly raised his hand.

"Sir! Wanping reports that the temporary line is connected! The sniper was pushed back by machine gun fire, and the telephone operator was grazed. The line is working!"

The tension that had been building up inside finally eased a bit.

The tall, thin officer looked at Zhao Weiguo and tapped his finger lightly twice on the map.

"Zhao Weiguo, you stay at the military headquarters."

Zhao Weiguo tied the tattered bag back up tightly.

"no."

The tall, thin officer's face darkened.

"reason."

Zhao Weiguo looked towards the southwest direction outside the door.

"Wanping still has guns to repair, cannon steel to collect, and wounded soldiers to eat."

He patted the cloth bag.

"Here, I can only see paper. Back home, I can see iron."