Chapter 26: The Old Chain-Smoker

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...Almost every veteran I have ever known is a chain-smoker; especially during the lulls in fighting, they act like chimneys, with smoke constantly billowing from their nostrils.

In truth, I am a chain-smoker myself. The longer I serve in the military, the more heavily I smoke.

As a modern man, it is not that I am unaware of the harms of smoking.

Rather, smoking alleviates the tension and irritability in my heart, tricks my nose into ignoring the foul odors of the battlefield, and provides a glimmer of warmth in the bitter cold.

Compared to all these benefits, losing a few years or even a decade of my life does not seem like a big deal—not that many of them will likely survive this war anyway...

...Excerpted from the collection of Hu Biao's diaries, "Hu's Sayings"...

Throughout the entire process of the Kuki Company’s assault, Battalion Commander Sasaki Oguri did not retreat to the shelter of a tent to hide from the rain. Instead, leaning on his ancestral katana, he stood in the downpour, silently observing the battle.

By the time the stragglers of the Kuki Company came fleeing back in a pathetic state, he was soaked to the bone.

Suddenly, a night breeze swept through. In late August, it was enough to make Sasaki Oguri shiver with cold.

But in reality, what felt colder was the battalion commander’s heart. At that moment, he felt as if his heart had fallen into an ice cave, causing his entire body to tremble.

There was no other reason! Having watched the entire assault, he understood one thing clearly: the attack had lasted only about ten minutes.

Yet, in those ten minutes, of the more than 120 Imperial warriors in the Kuki Company, only thirty-something had escaped back; the rest were all left in front of that godforsaken position.

Even Kuki, the company commander, along with two platoon leaders and almost every sergeant, had been killed in action.

To suffer such heavy casualties on such a small battlefield, and at such an alarming rate, was something he had never encountered in all his years of service.

Even though he still had the Kuroguchi Company behind him, ready to be deployed at any moment, these men—who had also watched the entire assault—now stood in silence. Their morale had been dealt a devastating blow.

Furthermore, the long day of fighting had left them exhausted, their combat effectiveness significantly diminished.

In short, Sasaki Oguri understood one thing clearly: even if he were to lead them in a charge himself, they would not be able to exert even half of their normal combat capability.

Under such conditions, charging would only increase casualties to no avail; there was simply no way to take the enemy position.

More critically, he felt a sense of deathly dread—the fear that he, too, might end up like Kuki, dying in this nameless little place that did not even appear on the maps.

It was a feeling he had never experienced since setting foot on this land.

After pondering for a moment, he summoned a signalman and issued the order he least wanted to give:

"Immediately wire the regimental commander. Inform him of the latest situation here, and tell him that unless the heavy rain stops, the Oguri Battalion needs to regroup. It will take at least four hours before we can restore our combat effectiveness and launch an attack."

Sending such a telegram was equivalent to Battalion Commander Sasaki Oguri tacitly accepting that the regimental commander might replace them with another battalion.

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He was essentially admitting that he, a descendant of noble samurai, was inferior to the descendant of a farmer.

To his surprise, the regimental commander responded quickly, granting his request to hold off on the assault for four hours.

Sasaki Oguri almost cheered aloud, his fighting spirit reignited.

"Kuroguchi Company, move immediately to that cluster of civilian houses behind us. Find any that haven't collapsed and rest. Hurry and dry your clothes, eat something, and then sleep. In four hours, I need you to be in peak condition to launch an assault, take the position in one fell swoop, and kill every one of those National Revolutionary Army soldiers. Can you do it?"

Perhaps because they had fought all day on empty stomachs and could finally eat and rest, the soldiers of the Kuroguchi Company shouted at the top of their lungs in response to Oguri’s inquiry:

"We can do it! We will slaughter those National Revolutionary Army soldiers when the time comes!"

Under these circumstances, Position No. 7 gained four precious hours of time...

******

When Battalion Commander Sasaki Oguri had his signalman wire the regimental commander, he did not know one thing: the situation at Position No. 7 was, in fact, just as dire.

If he had only risked it and led the Kuroguchi Company in a desperate final charge, he might have actually taken the position.

With a heavy "thud," Hu Biao slammed the receiver back onto the telephone.

He then shook his head at Zhou Kun, Zhang Wei, Gao Yi, and the others, who were looking at him with hopeful eyes, and said with a bitter tone:

"The line is dead. It’s likely the telephone wire was blown apart."

Hearing this, Zhou Kun, the academic, slumped into the mud like a farmer whose harvest had completely failed, as if all his strength had been drained away.

Zhang Wei and Gao Yi opened their mouths as if to say something, but ultimately suppressed their frustration. They smoked heavily; a cigarette that had only just been lit was burning down in the blink of an eye.

Wang Peng simply closed his eyes.

The reason for their reaction was that even after the ten-minute battle, the casualties on the position remained heavy.

Wang Peng, the only professional PLA veteran among the five, was incapacitated. After taking a bullet to the chest, it was unclear how many ribs were broken or how severe the damage to his internal organs was.

Regardless, he lacked the strength even to stand, making it impossible for him to continue fighting.

Of the twenty supply soldiers, three were dead and six were seriously wounded. Minor injuries were not even worth counting—everyone was covered in abrasions from bullets, flying shrapnel, and gravel.

In effect, after a single battle, their limited combat strength had been cut nearly in half.

Although they—a bunch of seemingly unreliable rookies—had achieved a brilliant victory under the right circumstances, a victory they could brag about for a lifetime, they knew that if the Japanese launched another assault, they surely would not be able to hold.

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Consequently, aside from two supply soldiers who remained in the trenches—which were filled with ankle-deep water—to keep watch against a sneak attack by the Japanese, everyone else retreated to the company command post.

Though the ground here was also flooded, at least there was a roof to shelter them from the rain, and they could light a hurricane lamp.

Even though the light was kept dim to avoid revealing their position, it still provided a primal sense of warmth.

Under the dim light, the men hurriedly finished bandaging the wounded, including Wang Peng.

Hu Biao then began cranking the field telephone, trying to contact his superiors to request reinforcements, machine guns, ammunition, artillery support—anything that could be of use.

Otherwise, they truly had no confidence that they could withstand the next Japanese assault.

Yet, no one could have expected that the telephone line had been severed by the shelling.

After a long sigh, Hu Biao looked at the remaining men and gestured toward the youngest among them, a supply soldier who looked only fifteen or sixteen, and asked:

"Lad, what's your name, and how old are you?"

"Zhu Cong. I’m eighteen," the pale-faced youth replied hurriedly.

"Alright, Zhu Cong. You are to withdraw now, inform the officers of the situation on the position, and tell them to send reinforcements immediately," Hu Biao instructed.

After a moment’s hesitation, Hu Biao added, "If you can't get reinforcements, stay there. Consider it saving a seed for our Special Service Company."

The supply soldier named Zhu Cong nodded, gritted his teeth, and dashed into the curtain of rain.

Watching his back disappear completely, the men in the command post fell silent, primarily because they could think of no other way to survive the next Japanese attack.

In this atmosphere, Wang Peng suddenly opened his eyes and said with great effort:

"I have a way. Perhaps it will allow the few men we have left to survive the next Japanese assault."

The fact that they had achieved such a good result in the previous battle was largely due to Wang Peng's tactic of using the tank as a core fire point.

Hearing that this PLA veteran had a new idea, Hu Biao and the others were immediately stirred and crowded around, asking urgently:

"Tell us, quickly, what is the plan?"

However, Wang Peng did not answer immediately. Instead, he made a request: "Give me a cigarette, and light it."

Although they knew it was better for Wang Peng not to smoke in his current condition, Zhang Wei, anxious to hear the plan, pulled out a "Lao Dao" brand cigarette and lit it for him.

Then, Wang Peng began to smoke greedily while coughing, as if he knew that once he finished this one, he would never have another...

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