Courtyard House: I Rely on Time-Space Trade to Build a Nation

December 24, 1950, Dayudong.

In the courtyard of the Volunteer Army headquarters, the snow was trampled solid. Several staff officers hurried in and out, carrying folders, their faces filled with barely suppressed excitement.

This day is Christmas Eve in the West. But for Americans, this Christmas Eve is anything but peaceful.

At three o'clock in the afternoon, an urgent telegram arrived from the eastern front. The telegraph operator's hands were trembling after reading the message. He ran to the operations room and almost tripped over the threshold at the door.

"Report! Telegram from the Eastern Front!"

Commander Deng took the telegram, glanced at it, and then handed it to Commander Peng.

Commander Peng finished reading the map without saying a word. He walked to the map on the wall and drew a circle around the location of Changjin Lake on the eastern front.

Then he turned around and looked at the room full of people waiting for news.

"The 1st Marine Division," his voice was flat, but each word was like a lump of iron hitting the ground, "was completely annihilated by our army at Chosin Reservoir. Fifteen thousand men, including Division Commander Smith, laid down their arms."

There was a moment of silence in the conference room.

Then, someone shouted first, and the whole room erupted in chaos.

Commander Hong slammed his fist on the table, making the teacup jump. Commander Han took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes vigorously. Several young staff officers hugged each other, jumping and laughing.

Commander Peng did not smile. He stood in front of the map, his back to everyone, his shoulders trembling slightly.

The next morning, in the same conference room.

The people were seated more neatly. Besides the commanders of the various corps, there were also several army commanders who had come from the eastern front. Their faces bore the dust of a long journey, but their eyes were bright.

Commander Peng got straight to the point.

"We were all overjoyed yesterday when we received the telegram from the Eastern Front. Today, let the General Staff read out the detailed battle report."

Commander Deng stood up; he was the Deputy Commander and Chief of Staff of the Chinese People's Volunteer Army. Holding freshly compiled documents, his voice booming:

"Statistics on the Battle Results in the Changjin Lake Area on the Eastern Front of the Second Campaign:"

"1. U.S. Marine Corps 1st Division: The division originally had a strength of about 25,000 men, with about 7,000 casualties in combat and 15,000 surrendering to our army, including more than 600 officers including Division Commander Smith. Only about 3,000 enemy remnants escaped."

"II. US 7th Division, ROK Capital Division, etc.: approximately 5,000 enemy soldiers were killed, wounded, or captured."

"Third, a total of more than 27,000 enemy soldiers were killed, of whom 15,000 surrendered."

"IV. Captured materials: 120 tanks (including those that were repaired and usable), more than 400 artillery pieces, more than 2,000 vehicles, and countless firearms, ammunition and military supplies."

"Our casualties:"

"1,800 dead, 700 seriously wounded, and 4,000 lightly wounded. The total number of combat casualties was over 6,500."

"Casualties due to frostbite: negligible."

Commander Deng finished reading and put down the document.

The meeting room was quiet. Not because it was heavy, but because an immense joy pressed down on their chests, leaving them momentarily speechless.

Commander Song was the first to speak.

"Twenty-seven thousand enemies, six thousand five hundred of our own. This was a worthwhile trade."

He paused, then added, "The key was the 1st Marine Division, the Americans' elite force. Even the division commander surrendered, and 15,000 men laid down their arms. They really showed their strength in that battle."

Commander Hong nodded: "The Associated Press reported early this morning that this is 'the worst defeat in the history of the U.S. Marine Corps.' MacArthur was surrounded by reporters in Tokyo and didn't dare to say a word."

Someone laughed.

Commander Han took off his glasses and slowly wiped them, his voice trembling slightly: "Fifteen thousand prisoners... After this battle, the Americans should rethink whether this war can continue."

Commander Peng waved his hand, signaling everyone to quiet down.

"The results of the battle must be acknowledged. But we must also find out how the battle was won."

He looked at Commander Deng.

"Deng, has the General Staff done any analysis?"

Commander Deng walked to the blackboard.

"Our staff conducted a post-battle review overnight. There are five reasons why this battle turned out this way."

He wrote on the blackboard:

"1. Type 59 tank. 2. RPG-7. 3. J-2 fighter jet. 4. Jiefang truck. 5. Winter clothing."

"First, the Type 59 tank." He pointed to the first point with chalk. "The eastern front was mountainous and the roads were treacherous, but the Type 59's mobility was far superior to the American M26 Pershing. Our tanks flanked the enemy and cut off their retreat. The 1st Marine Division was eventually forced to surrender, mainly because their retreat was cut off by the tanks."

"Secondly, the RPG-7 rocket launcher," he continued. "The US military deployed over four hundred tanks, but the RPG-7 could penetrate any of them. Our soldiers were no longer afraid of tanks. This was a huge psychological advantage."

"Third, the J-2 fighter jet." He pointed out the window, "We now have air superiority over the area north of the Chongchon River. American planes dare not fly low and can only drop bombs randomly from high altitude. We've calculated how many soldiers' lives this has saved—it has reduced ground casualties by at least 30%."

"Fourth, the Liberation trucks." He paused. "The supply line on the eastern front was long. If we relied on people carrying and pulling horses, the ammunition supply might often be cut off."

Now, truckloads of food, ammunition, and supplies are being sent forward. If the troops run out of rockets, they can be replenished; if the encirclement forces need reinforcements, they can be delivered overnight.

He finally pointed to the fifth one.

Fifth, warm clothing.

"The temperature at Changjin Lake is minus 30 degrees Celsius. When we fought in Northeast China before, the number of casualties from frostbite was more than the number of combat casualties."

This year, each student received a cotton-padded coat, a cotton-padded hat, a pair of cotton-padded shoes, a sleeping bag, a heater, and special hand warmers, all of which were distributed to the class.

The numbers reported by the eastern front troops indicate that frostbite casualties are negligible.

Commander Deng put down the chalk and looked at Zhao Ping'an, who was sitting in the corner.

"I don't need to explain where these things came from. Everyone here knows what Comrade Ping An has been busy with in the Northeast for the past year or so."

Commander Song nodded: "The steel plates from Anshan Iron and Steel, the tanks from Shenyang, the trucks from Changchun, and those rocket launchers, cotton-padded clothes and hats—all were arranged by Comrade Ping An."

Commander Hong continued, "Without these things, we wouldn't have been able to win this battle. Even if we had, the casualties would have been several times greater. Let's give Comrade Ping An a round of applause to express our gratitude."

The commanders nodded in agreement, and thunderous applause erupted.

Zhao Ping'an quickly stood up and saluted, "This is what we should do."

After the applause ended, the meeting room fell silent.

Commander Peng stood in front of the map and studied it for a long time.

"The Battle of Chosin Reservoir is over, the 1st Marine Division is gone." He spoke slowly, "But the Americans won't admit defeat. We need to prepare for the next step, and even the step after that."

Commander Deng continued, "The next step will definitely be to fight across the 38th parallel. But how to fight, where to fight, and when to stop—we need to think this through carefully."

Commander Peng turned around and his gaze swept over everyone present.

"Tomorrow, at the same time, in the same room, we'll continue the meeting. Today, let's have a good meal to celebrate!"

I heard that Comrade Ping An has organized the rear to transport a large batch of pork. Today, I've instructed the cooks to prepare plenty of meat dishes—enough for everyone!