The War of Resistance Against Japan: Starting with a Calm View of Life and Death

Time flew by and it was evening.

The guerrilla fighters of Dongzhai Town quickly disappeared into the night.

The dirt road from Ningwu to Yuanping is full of potholes, with bare poplar trees and weeds on both sides.

The night was dark, with only a few cold stars shining faintly in the sky.

At 11 p.m., the guerrillas arrived at their designated ambush point—a narrow section of road with earthen slopes on both sides.

Wang Yuan and his team were busy working by the roadside.

Lei Laohu squatted to the side, holding a Japanese entrenching tool in his hand, digging a hole.

"Brother Yuan, isn't this pit a bit too shallow? The Japanese trucks have big wheels, they won't run over them, will they?" Lei Laohu wiped his sweat and asked in a low voice.

Wang Yuan rolled his eyes at him: "You don't know anything. This is called an anti-tank mine, it doesn't blow up the wheels, it blows up the chassis and engine. Just dig, why are you talking so much nonsense?"

As they were talking, the roar of engines and the sound of a large group of people marching by came from afar.

"They're here!" Wang Yuan barked. "Take cover! No one is allowed to fire without orders!"

Everyone instantly lay down in the roadside weeds and ditch, covered with white sheets, blending into the snow.

A few minutes later, a long convoy came into view.

Two sidecar motorcycles were ahead, each with a machine gun mounted on it, their headlights flashing as they fired at the roadside bushes.

Five large trucks followed behind, their cargo compartments crammed with Japanese soldiers, and several horse-drawn carts carrying heavy ammunition boxes.

Behind them were infantry, a long line that snaked along the road like a dead snake.

Zhou Jindong lay prone in the grass at the front, holding a Mauser pistol with the muzzle pointed at the road.

He could clearly see the tired faces of the Japanese soldiers on the truck, and the officer sitting in the driver's seat—it was Hiroshi Fujita.

The convoy slowly drove into the minefield.

Wang Yuan's palms were sweaty, and his eyes were fixed on the truck at the front.

The car's wheels had run over the landmine.

"Bomb it...bomb it..." Wang Yuan silently chanted in his mind.

Just then, the truck suddenly braked sharply and came to a stop.

Fujita Hiroshi, who was in the car, seemed to have noticed something. He jumped out of the car and shone a flashlight on the roadside.

The beam of light swept across the bushes where Wang Yuan and his group were hiding.

Wang Yuan's heart was in his throat, his fingers gripping the cord. If Fujita Hiroshi took another step forward and stepped on the tripwire, he would immediately pull the trigger.

Fujita Hiroshi, holding his gun, carefully took two steps toward the roadside and used his bayonet to pry open a clump of withered grass.

At this critical moment, Zhou Jindong suddenly sprang up from the bushes, and the pistol in his hand fired.

"Bang!"

The bullet struck the flashlight in Fujita Hiroshi's hand precisely, scattering glass shards and extinguishing the bulb instantly.

"Enemy attack!!" Fujita Hiroshi shouted in terror, and rolled into the ditch by the roadside.

Almost simultaneously, Wang Yuan suddenly pulled on the rope in his hand.

"Boom! Boom! Boom!"

The three loud bangs almost came together in one continuous sound.

The truck at the very front was instantly blown into the air, its front end torn apart, and engine fragments flew everywhere like shrapnel.

Then came the second and the third vehicle; the landmines buried under the road exploded one after another, and the flames instantly illuminated the entire section of road.

"Attack!" Zhou Jindong roared.

Dozens of guns opened fire simultaneously from the roadside bushes.

Zhang Fang led the second platoon out of the woods on the flank, their Type 96 machine guns spitting fire.

"Da da da da..."

A hail of bullets rained down on the Japanese convoy.

Before the Japanese soldiers on the truck could react, they were riddled with bullets.

Some were blown up in their sleep, while others jumped off the vehicle to fight back, only to be spotted by guerrilla snipers as soon as they showed their faces.

"Baka! They're Eighth Route Army guerrillas! Counterattack! Counterattack!" Fujita Hiroshi shouted from the ditch, directing the guards around him to organize a resistance.

The Japanese troops were well-trained, and after a brief period of confusion, they quickly used the wreckage of trucks and the dirt embankments along the roadside to launch a counterattack.

Several Type 91 machine guns were set up, and bullets hit the earthen slope where Zhou Jindong and his men were hiding, pressing down on them so they couldn't lift their heads.

"Dongzi, the Japanese firepower is too strong!" Wang Yuan lay on the ground, not daring to lift his head, as bullets hit the earthen slope in front of him.

"Lei Laohu! Get your men up there and take that machine gun for me!" Zhou Jindong roared.

Lei Laohu, who was cowering in the back, gritted his teeth upon hearing the order and roared, "Brothers, follow me! Anyone who chickens out is a coward!"

He led more than thirty soldiers, guns in hand, and charged forward shouting.

These soldiers, who came from bandit backgrounds, were undisciplined, but they fought like madmen.

Taking advantage of the darkness and the smoke from the explosion, they made their way to the flank of the Japanese machine gun position.

"Throw!" Lei Laohu roared, and with a practiced flick of his wrist, he threw out more than a dozen grenades at the same time.

"Boom! Boom! Boom!"

The Japanese machine gun positions were silenced by the bombing.

Taking advantage of this opening, Zhou Jindong led the main force to charge forward.

"Fix bayonets! Charge with me!"

Zhou Jindong, with his Type 38 rifle bayoneted and ready, charged into the smoke, leading the charge.

A Japanese lieutenant, who had just climbed out of a truck, brandished his command sword and slashed at Zhou Jindong.

Zhou Jindong dodged to the side with lightning speed, slamming the butt of his rifle into the lieutenant's wrist, and then thrusting his bayonet straight into the lieutenant's chest.

Hot blood sprayed all over Zhou Jindong's face, but he didn't even blink. He drew his bayonet and continued charging forward.

The skirmish lasted only twenty minutes.

The Japanese rearguard company was decimated; three of their five trucks were destroyed, and the remaining two were set on fire, completely blocking the road.

"Retreat! Retreat quickly!" Zhou Jindong glanced at his watch; only twenty-five minutes had passed since the explosion.

He knew that Okada Tomohisa's main force was not far behind, and they would definitely flank him after hearing the gunfire.

The guerrillas retreated like the tide and disappeared into the darkness.

When Okada Tomohisa arrived with his main force, he found the battlefield in complete disarray.

Burning trucks, corpses strewn across the ground, and wounded soldiers groaning in agony.

Okada Tomohisa, mounted on his horse, was ashen-faced, his whip nearly snapping in his hand.

"Captain..." Fujita Hiroshi limped over, his face covered in soot and his left arm in a sling. "They're guerrillas from the Eighth Route Army, about three or four hundred of them. They used landmines and machine guns..."

"Useless trash!" Okada Tomohisa lashed Fujita Hiroshi's face with his riding whip. "A company of Imperial Army soldiers, attacked by a bunch of Eighth Route Army guerrillas, losing an entire squad! How dare you come back to see me!"

Fujita Hiroshi shuddered from the blow and dared not utter a sound.

There's no one to confide in about the frustration in my heart; why am I always the one who gets hurt?

"Captain, the road is blocked, and the trucks can't get through for a while," the engineering captain reported as he ran over. "Moreover, the scouts ahead reported that landmines have been found on the road ahead as well."

Tomohisa Okada took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down.

He looked at the sky; there were still more than five hours until dawn.