Even if I'm a useless bum at Whampoa Military Academy, I'll be invincible in the War of Re

At the front line of the First Peak, the artillery fire had just extended when more than three thousand Japanese soldiers surged up from the western and southern fronts. As far as the eye could see, the entire mountainside was covered in a nauseating yellowish-brown excrement.

With Zhang Yi's order, the artillery group hidden on the reverse slope of the main peak opened fire at full speed. Rows of shells rained down from the sky, and the Japanese infantry were blown to pieces, letting them taste the feeling of being bombed. One bomb after another, large numbers of them were blown up.

The Japanese soldiers of the Kanazawa Division were known for their fierceness. Despite suffering heavy casualties, their morale was not affected at all. On the contrary, they were stimulated by the bloodshed of the battlefield and became even more frenzied.

After the infantry assault group fearlessly charged through the artillery barrage, they were met with dozens of light and heavy machine guns, especially more than thirty M1919 Browning medium machine guns, whose firepower was far more intense than they had ever imagined.

Thousands upon thousands of bullets wove an impenetrable net of fire, killing anyone who touched them. The flesh was as fragile as foam in the face of steel, and the code of Bushido was negligible.

Colonel Fujii's expression turned extremely serious, and he said in a deep voice:

"The guerrilla detachment's firepower seemed unaffected; their shells and bullets seemed inexhaustible. This was nothing like a remnant army that had escaped from Nanjing."

Commander Jiro Wakisaka of the 36th Infantry Regiment wholeheartedly agreed. They were old adversaries of the guerrilla detachment, and had all been beaten before, still feeling lingering fear whenever they thought about it.

"Mr. Fujii, their main machine guns are still the M1919 Browning medium machine guns. I roughly counted, and there are no less than thirty of them. At a combat rate of 300 rounds per minute, that's tens of thousands of bullets per minute. Even the Empire can't afford to consume them."

After pondering for a moment, Fujii said:

"Wakisaka-kun, is it possible that the Chinese had stockpiled a large amount of ammunition and supplies beforehand, otherwise it's inexplicable?"

"Yes, Fujii-kun, I agree with your assessment. Zhao Yunwen is very cunning, thinking three steps ahead for every one step he takes. It will be difficult for the Imperial Army to take down the First Peak by relying on sheer numbers."

"Wakisaka-kun, let's take another look. His Highness's military orders cannot be disobeyed."

After Colonel Fujii finished speaking, both of them fell silent. While others were celebrating in Nanjing, they were here to grapple with a tough problem. The bitterness in their hearts was unimaginable.

Captain Ryosuke Kurokawa felt even more bitter. Bullets were whizzing overhead, and if he wasn't careful, he would have to report to the "Yasukuni Shrine". Before he even reached the edge of the defending troops' position, 30% of the company's soldiers had already been killed or wounded, and there were warriors struggling in pain everywhere.

The other Japanese soldiers were also pinned down on the hillside, unable to move. In order to return to the city and celebrate as soon as possible, he could only drive the soldiers to continue their advance.

No one dared to stand up; they all slowly climbed upwards like turtles, and even so, Japanese soldiers continued to be shot and fall.

The Japanese advance was as slow as a snail's pace. It took them an unknown amount of time to reach the optimal charging distance, but no one dared to get up. They all lay prone, firing furtively.

The defenders did not fire continuously with heavy firepower, but instead seized every opportunity to fire a burst, firmly controlling the rhythm of the battlefield.

Captain Kurokawa was horrified to discover that even their proud shooting skills were not gaining an advantage; casualties were rising steadily, time was slowly passing, and time was not on the Japanese side.

The deadly bugle call sounded again from behind, like a death knell, and Captain Kurokawa had no choice but to bite the bullet and drive it away.

"Warriors, the time has come to serve the Sky Locusts—Thrust, thrust!"

Spurred on by the "locusts," the Japanese soldiers scrambled up from the hillside, yelling and charging forward, disregarding their own lives.

When machine gunner Zheng Tuo saw the Japanese soldiers rushing up again, he grinned and pulled the trigger to fire, each burst yielding a full harvest.

He loved the machine gun in his hand so much that it was even better than the Maxim heavy machine gun of his old unit, the 66th Army. He kept mowing down the Japanese soldiers, and he couldn't even remember how many he killed.

"Hey, you old hag, in such a hurry to be reborn? I'll grant your wish!"

"Go to hell!"

Zheng Tuo hid inside the reinforced concrete bunker, not worried about his own safety at all. He just needed to use up all the ammunition belts. The company commander said, "There's plenty!"

Zheng Tuo's bunker became a thorn in the side of the Japanese, surviving several hits from Type 92 infantry shells. Captain Kurokawa could only risk his life to save it.

With a wave of his hand, a dozen or so suicide squad members carrying explosives rushed toward the bunker. All of this was kept in the sights of the observer, who kept reporting the location.

Zheng Tuo and two light machine gunners kept firing at the Japanese soldiers, turning an area of ​​fifty meters to the left and right and three hundred meters in front and behind into a death zone, with corpses lying haphazardly on the ground.

The infantry in the trenches on both flanks were also providing support, especially the snipers with excellent marksmanship. They could take down the suicide squad members as easily as playing whack-a-mole, killing them as soon as they popped up.

The dozen or so suicide squads all turned into "suicide squads," failing to even touch the edge of the bunkers. The Nationalist government spent a fortune building fifty or sixty bunkers on Zijin Mountain, with more than a dozen on the first peak alone.

These bunkers played a vital role in the hands of the soldiers. The defensive tactics of the guerrilla column were far ahead of their time. Zhang Yi studied at West Point and was deeply influenced by Zhao Yunwen, learning many tactics that were ahead of their time.

The 9th Division has really bitten off more than they can chew this time. Two regiments with more than 3,000 men attacked for half a day but couldn't even touch the edge of the front line. The number of dead and wounded has already exceeded 1,000.

Captain Kurokawa completely lost his patience, raised his sword and led the charge, with the other Japanese soldiers following closely behind, hoping to overwhelm the defending troops' positions with sheer numbers.

Zheng Tuo gripped the trigger tightly, and bullets rained down, emptying most of the ammunition belt in the blink of an eye. The barrel was so red-hot that it was unusable, and he could only patiently wait for it to cool down.

This is a drawback of the M1919 medium machine gun; changing the barrel takes a long time, unlike the MG42 which can be easily unscrewed.

Fortunately, the large portion of his ammunition belt he had used earlier had almost wiped out a large group of Japanese soldiers, including two demolition experts.

A few dozen seconds later, the machine gun was ready to be used again, and the slaughter of the Japanese soldiers continued.

Outside the bunker, Captain Kurokawa, riddled with machine gun bullets, died on the battlefield, his eyes wide open.

He was unwilling to accept it; he had finally managed to capture Renjinling City, but he died before he could even enjoy the fruits of his labor.

Inside the Japanese field command post, Fujii lost his grip on the binoculars, which fell to the ground, and his lips trembled uncontrollably.

Colonel Wakisaka isn't in much better shape; if the fighting continues, both of them will become isolated!

"Fujii-kun, let the warriors retreat! The Kanazawa Division has already suffered enough casualties!"

Colonel Fujii let out a long sigh and nodded weakly.

The bugle call to retreat sounded immediately, and the attacking Japanese soldiers, as if granted a pardon, took off running without any regard for the dignity of the Kanazawa Division.

Commander Zhang Yi, looking slightly regretful, said to the troops defending the main peak:

"The Japanese probably won't attack again!"

Chief of Staff Lin Zheng continued, saying:

"That's good. As long as we keep the Japanese at bay on the first peak, our mission will be accomplished."

In Jurong, the guerrilla column was so relaxed that it didn't feel like wartime at all. They had three full meals a day, meat every two days, and only two hours of training. Many of the defeated soldiers were getting a little overweight.

Zhao Yunwen was the same way, sleeping until he naturally woke up every day, completely letting himself go, as if he had forgotten about his important business.

This comfortable period lasted for a week before Zhao Yunwen recovered from his pampered state and summoned Xie Polu, saying:

"Notify all regiments to assemble their troops and march north tomorrow. The 6th Regiment of the 2nd Brigade will act as the vanguard, and the 2nd Regiment of the 1st Brigade will bring up the rear."

Send a telegram to Zhang Yi: Hold the position for one more day, then abandon it after dark tomorrow to cover the main force's northward advance.