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

Hidden cave dwellings on the back mountain of Xingshuping.

The cave dwelling was deep, requiring one to bend over to enter. The walls were made of rammed earth, very solid, so firm that tapping them with a finger produced no sound. A large map was nailed to the wall, drawn by Zhao Weiguo with charcoal on three sheets of paper used to cover the windows. When the sheets were pieced together, the map covered half the size of the wall.

The map depicts the terrain of Tiger's Mouth: a canyon nestled between two mountains, thirty paces wide at the entrance, twenty paces wide in the middle, and twenty-five paces wide at the exit. Ridges line both sides of the canyon, marked with closely spaced contour lines, indicating steep slopes. A road, marked as a dotted line, runs through the canyon from the entrance to the exit, making two bends.

Three oil lamps sat in the corner, their light overlapping to illuminate the charcoal lines on the map. The light wasn't far enough, but it was enough to make each contour line clear.

Zhao Weiguo stood in front of the map, holding a charcoal pencil. Behind him was Chen An, who held a wooden stick pointing to a location on the map, awaiting Zhao Weiguo's command.

Five people were sitting in the cave dwelling.

Zhang Dabiao squatted under the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed), holding a straw in his hand, drawing circles on the ground. He brought a company from the New First Regiment, with 120 men in the company, armed with a mix of Hanyang rifles and Type 38 rifles, and each man had 20 rounds of ammunition.

Wang Huaibao sat on the threshold, holding a Czech-made rifle with strips of cloth wrapped around its stock. He was the company commander of the New Second Regiment, and had brought 110 men with him, mainly Hanyang rifles, with 15 rounds of ammunition per man.

Zhou Dayong leaned against the wall, holding a canteen in his hand. It was a captured Japanese canteen, made of aluminum and lightweight. He was the company commander of the New Third Regiment, and he had brought a hundred men with him. They were mainly armed with Type 38 rifles, and each man had eighteen rounds of ammunition.

Li Shouye stood at the entrance of the cave dwelling, carrying nothing in his hands, with a Mauser pistol tucked into his waistband. He was the company commander of the brigade's guard company, and he had brought eighty men with him. Their weapons were a mix of Mauser pistols and submachine guns, and each man had twenty-five rounds of ammunition.

None of the four people spoke.

The cave dwelling was quiet, the lamplight flickering on the walls with the wind. Outside, the wind blew from the mountains, rustling the straw curtain at the cave entrance. Two muffled barks came from afar, seemingly rising from the foot of the mountain.

Zhang Dabiao broke the silence first.

"The old brigade commander has given the order. He wants Zhao Weiguo to directly explain how to fight."

He looked up at Zhao Weiguo with a direct look in his eyes, which meant: Go ahead and say it, I'm listening.

Zhao Weiguo handed the charcoal pencil to Chen An.

"I said, you bid."

Chen An took the charcoal pencil, stood in front of the map, and waited.

Zhao Weiguo looked at the map and thought for a moment.

"Sakata's vanguard will arrive at Tiger's Mouth around eight o'clock tomorrow morning. The artillery has mules and horses, so they move slowly; the vanguard and the main force can maintain a five-mile distance."

Chen An drew an arrow on the map.

"The first to enter is at 8:00, the main force enters at 8:15. At 8:30, the breach is sealed; at 8:32, all fire is launched."

Chen An drew an X at the entrance.

"At 45 minutes past the hour, the blade pressed down. We'll wrap up and withdraw at 9:15."

Chen An wrote down the time and glanced up at Zhao Weiguo.

"It's tight enough."

"Tighter is better," Zhao Weiguo said. "Tighter means less drag."

Zhao Weiguo turned around and looked at the four company commanders.

"Task assignment."

He pointed to the mountain ridge on the map.

"On the ridges on both sides of the pass, Zhang Dabiao's company of the New First Regiment. No firing for the first fifteen minutes. The vanguard and the main force must all enter the canyon. Firing too early will only scare the enemy away; firing later will allow us to close the gate."

Zhang Dabiao nodded.

Zhao Weiguo pointed to the middle section of the canyon.

"On the eastern slope of the central section, there's Wang Huaibao's company from the New Second Regiment. Their specialty is destroying mountain guns and mules. Their mission isn't to kill the most people, but to disable the artillery. Once the artillery is disabled, the Sakata Regiment loses half its firepower."

Wang Huaibao looked at the map without speaking, but his eyes were moving as he calculated.

Zhao Weiguo pointed to the end of the canyon.

"At the tail end of the bend, two companies of the assault battalion will block it. Once the enemy's main force enters the valley, they will seal the entrance, ensuring the vanguard battalion never retreats back to the center. This is the 'closing gate' maneuver of the entire ambush."

He pointed to the western ridge.

"On the western ridge, Zhou Dayong's company of the New Third Regiment. They're targeting cavalry, signal corps, and messengers. They're cutting off the vanguard's communication with Sakata's central command. Once communication is lost, the vanguard battalion will be isolated."

Zhou Dayong nodded.

Zhao Weiguo pointed to Li Shouye at the entrance of the cave dwelling.

"The brigade's guard company is the reserve force. Whoever's position is held, they'll fill their spot. Never reveal your position prematurely."

Li Shouye nodded.

The cave dwelling was quiet for a while.

Zhang Dabiao broke the straw into two pieces and twirled them in his hand.

Wang Huaibao tapped his fingers on his knee three times, then stopped.

Zhou Dayong took the kettle off, unscrewed the lid, and then screwed it back on.

Li Shouye leaned against the door frame, his eyes half-closed as if he were resting, but the buckle of the Mauser pistol on his waist was loosened by half an inch.

Someone outside ran over in a low voice; the footsteps echoed on the dry mud for a few steps before fading away.

Wang Huaibao spoke up.

"Eat the Japanese vanguard in half an hour? That's too arrogant!"

Zhao Weiguo looked at him.

Wang Huaibao's lips twitched down, his face clearly showing disbelief. He had fought for six years, from northwestern Shanxi to the Taihang Mountains, and had seen too many battles that were supposed to be "resolved in half an hour" but ended up being a mess.

"The target isn't 3,800 men," Zhao Weiguo said, "it's the 1,200 men who have become separated from the central army. The vanguard can't deploy; they're blocked in front, cut off from the rear, and severed in the middle. Half an hour is enough."

Wang Huaibao didn't reply, but tapped his fingers on his knee twice more. His eyes were fixed on the middle section of the canyon on the map, mentally measuring that narrow passage, which was only twenty steps wide.

Zhou Dayong pressed for more information.

"What if the enemy discovers the ambush beforehand?"

Zhao Weiguo drew two lines on the map with a charcoal pencil.

"Plan One: Fire ahead of time and suppress the hill artillery. Abandon blocking the breach and directly attack the middle and rear sections, cutting the vanguard in two."

He drew a second line.

"Plan Two: Abandon the middle section and attack the rear instead. Block the vanguard in the canyon, suppress them with firepower, and retreat when the central force arrives."

He looked at Zhou Dayong.

"Both contingency plans are viable. The only difference is the amount of resources consumed."

The cave dwelling was quiet again.

Moonlight filtered through the gaps in the straw curtain, drawing a white line on the ground.

Zhao Weiguo stood in front of the map, motionless. His hands hung at his sides, fingers curled, nails digging into his palms. His hands, though only fourteen, already had calluses.

Zhang Dabiao stood up and patted the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed).

"The companies of the New First Regiment were under the command of Zhao Weiguo. They fought exactly as he instructed."

Wang Huaibao glanced at Zhang Dabiao, then at Zhao Weiguo, and nodded.

"The entire Second Regiment is listening."

Zhou Dayong put the water bottle back on his belt and nodded.

"The same goes for the company of the New Third Regiment."

Li Shouye stood at the entrance of the cave dwelling, saying nothing, but simply nodding.

Zhao Weiguo looked at them for two seconds.

"Staff Officer Luo, make five copies of the simulation sheets, each indicating the fifteen-minute clock-matching time, the firing command, and the evacuation route."

Staff Officer Luo nodded, took out a notebook and pencil, and began to copy.

The moonlight was faint at night.

The wind stopped, and there was no sound in the mountains. Even the insects were silent, as if they knew something bad was going to happen tomorrow.

Five groups of people left Xing Shu Ping and their respective camps from different directions. Even the mules' muzzles were bound with cloth, and their hooves were wrapped in cloth so they made no sound when they stepped on the ground. Each person had a white cloth wrapped around their left arm for identification at night. The password was "Tiger," and the reply was "Mouth."

Zhang Dabiao led the New First Regiment along the eastern route, circling from the mountain path east of Xingshuping to the ridge east of Tiger's Mouth. His group stretched out in a line, with each person three steps apart, moving along the mountain path like a snake. Zhang Dabiao walked at the very front, clutching a machete in his hand, cutting down any branches that blocked the way, and then moving the branches to the side of the road so that those behind him wouldn't trip over them.

Wang Huaibao led his company of the New Second Regiment along the central route, from the bottom of the gully north of Xingshuping to the eastern slope of the middle section of Tiger's Mouth. His troops moved slowly because the gully floor was icy and slippery; walking too fast would result in a fall. Wang Huaibao had the men in front use their rifle butts to break the ice, creating a foothold, which the men behind then trod on. Someone slipped and fell, the rifle butt hitting a rock with a dull thud. Wang Huaibao turned and glared at him, saying nothing, but the soldier got up and hugged his rifle tightly, refusing to let go.

Zhou Dayong led the Third Regiment along the western route, circling around the mountain ridge west of Xingshuping to the western ridge of Tiger's Mouth. His group walked along the narrow ridge, with cliffs on both sides, having to hug the mountain walls as they went. The wind blew up from below the cliffs, billowing their clothes. Zhou Dayong walked at the very back, glancing back every few steps to make sure no one had fallen behind.

Li Shouye led the brigade's guard company along the northern route, circling around the mountain path north of Xingshuping to the rear of Tiger's Mouth. His unit moved the fastest, as they needed to reach their positions before dawn. The men of the brigade's guard company were all veterans; they walked silently, even their breathing was suppressed. Li Shouye himself walked in the middle of the column, a Mauser pistol tucked into his waistband, a Japanese bayonet in his hand, its scabbard removed, the blade gleaming coldly in the moonlight.

Zhao Weiguo walked in the last column, the assault battalion's unit. His pistol was fully tucked into his belt, the barrel gleaming in the moonlight. He walked in the middle of the column, with Chen An in front of him and Staff Officer Luo behind him.

Chen An carried a first-aid kit containing bandages and three packets of sulfanilamide powder. His rifle was slung diagonally over his shoulder, with strips of cloth wrapped around the buttstock. Zhao Weiguo had told him to wrap the buttstock with cloth, saying, "If the buttstock slips, wrap it with cloth. Don't wait until you're on the front lines to realize it."

Staff Officer Luo clutched five simulation sheets in his hand, folding the papers into small pieces and stuffing them into his breast pocket. His pencil was tucked behind his ear, and he would touch it every few steps to make sure it was still there.

He recalled that afternoon in the cave dwelling, when Wang Huaibao had said, "That's too arrogant!" He wasn't angry. He himself thought it was arrogant too. But he had calculated it, calculated it many times, and every time the result was the same: half an hour was enough.

He glanced down at his palm. In the moonlight, the calluses on his knuckles were white, and the scar on his palm ran across his lifeline like a broken line. These hands had killed.

Tomorrow at 8 o'clock.

------Author's Note-----

I've had a low-grade fever for three days in a row. It gets better with medicine, but the fever returns if I don't take it. Things haven't been going well these past two days. Please allow me some time to recover.