Chapter 14: Ambush Battle—Annihilating a Battalion and Seizing Mortars

"Swift and decisive."

Long Wencheng uttered only these words.

The night was still draped in a thin veil, the evening breeze rustling the leaves, creating a sound like raindrops falling gently to the ground.

The soldiers of the 4th Battalion, 189th Regiment, were marching along a mountain path under the command of Battalion Commander Xue Yu.

Fatigue was etched deeply on every face, yet they forced themselves to stay alert, striving to maintain their marching pace amid the furious shouts of their platoon and company commanders.

Xue Yu was at a loss for words. They had been roused from a sound sleep in the dead of night with news that the rear supply battalion had been attacked by the enemy. They were ordered to rush to its aid and protect the vital supplies at all costs.

Logically, more than just one battalion should have been sent back, but Regiment Commander Lei, fiercely determined and holding a grudge against the 18th Red Army Regiment that had killed his younger brother, refused to let the perpetrators escape.

Moreover, if all forces were pulled back, the supplies might be saved, but the pursuit of the 18th Red Army Regiment would be completely abandoned.

After much deliberation, Lei decided to send only Xue Yu’s 4th Battalion first to assess the situation and then determine whether to send reinforcements.

Xue Yu’s troops had barely rested, forced into continuous, grueling marches, and were already exhausted when they unwittingly entered Yulong Valley.

From within the valley, faint gunfire could be heard in the distance.

This gave Xue Yu a flicker of hope—gunfire still meant the supply battalion was resisting.

If the gunfire ceased entirely, it would mean the supply battalion was utterly defeated, rendering any rescue futile; at best, they would be retrieving bodies.

After all, the supply battalion consisted of over three hundred men and more than a hundred rifles. Though the Red Army forces had fought fiercely and were likely low on ammunition and provisions, it was unlikely they could have wiped out the supply battalion so easily.

What Xue Yu did not know was that this was part of Long Wencheng’s plan—to fire a few shots to mislead the enemy into thinking the battle was ongoing.

On a hillside overlooking Yulong Valley, Long Wencheng, bathed in moonlight, could discern the vague outlines of the troops below.

He waited for the signal flare.

Finally, a flare shot up into the sky.

This flare also served as the signal.

It marked the entire 4th Battalion’s entry into Yulong Valley and the commencement of the attack.

Seeing the light behind him, Xue Yu instinctively turned his head—and immediately sensed trouble.

"Everyone, stay alert!!"

Tensing every nerve, he drew his Browning pistol from its holster, eyes scanning the hills on both sides.

The dark peaks were painted ghostly white by the flare, resembling the gleaming teeth of a giant.

"Open fire!"

At the command, more flares ascended, and the machine gun nests built on the flanks erupted into a fierce roar.

"Rat-a-tat-tat!"

The roar of Maxim, Czech, and Hotchkiss machine guns shattered the stillness of the night, like hailstones pelting a tranquil lake, sending ripples in all directions.

The soldiers below were instantly caught under the crossfire from the hills.

Xue Yu realized they had walked into an ambush.

"Retreat! Fall back!!" he shouted, spurring his horse backward.

In his mind, this was clearly the Red Army’s tactic of "encircling to strike reinforcements"—surrounding the supply battalion to ambush the relief forces, aiming to annihilate their combat strength and capture more weapons and supplies.

Without waiting for orders, many soldiers began to flee backward, braving the deadly crossfire overhead.

Though many fell to machine gun and rifle fire along the way, the retreat did not halt.

As they neared the exit, another flare soared into the sky.

The burning magnesium strip cast a harsh, pale light and intense heat.

"Fire!!!" another roar echoed.

Two heavy machine guns and four light machine guns, long concealed here, opened fire simultaneously.

At the same time, a 37mm cannon, operated by Wen Song, also unleashed shells upon the 189th Regiment’s soldiers.

Boom!

Though it was only a 37mm direct-fire gun, its psychological impact on the troops far exceeded that of machine guns.

Amid the explosions, four clustered soldiers were instantly shattered by the blast’s shockwave—their limbs and shattered organs scattered in all directions.

"Hold firm! Reinforcements are on their way!!!" Xue Yu shouted, leaping from his horse to avoid becoming the prime target of enemy snipers.

Yet he did not realize that his officer’s uniform made him an even more conspicuous target.

Long Wencheng, rifle in hand, now took aim at Xue Yu, illuminated by the flare’s glow, his white gloves clearly visible.

Bang!

The bullet flashed like a streak of fire, hurtling toward its mark with a piercing whistle.

Pfft!

It tore through Xue Yu’s chest. He staggered, incredulous, staring down at the bloodied hole, mouth opening as if to speak.

But before he could utter a word, another bullet pierced his skull.

Thud!

Xue Yu’s legs gave way, and he collapsed lifelessly to the ground.

“The battalion commander is dead!” someone yelled.

At the same moment, the roar of Huajijuan submachine guns erupted from the rear.

Yang Gang, leading an assault squad armed with dozens of Huajijuan submachine guns, charged from behind the valley.

Surrounded on all sides by enemy troops and leaderless, the three hundred soldiers of the Gui Army were like headless flies.

Some screamed in terror, others roared in rage, some dropped to their knees, raising their arms in surrender.

But the only response was the relentless hail of bullets.

Because when the Red Army accepted surrender, they never showed mercy.

Likewise, as these men raised their arms, the Red Army soldiers, burning with boundless fury, spared no mercy.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Rat-a-tat-tat!

Rumble!

The gunfire and explosions gradually dwindled.

Dawn’s light slanted through the mountain crevices, and the valley fell silent.

The soldiers of the 18th Regiment began to clear the battlefield.

"Found it! Found it—the 81mm mortar from the Liuzhou Ordnance Factory!" Wen Song exclaimed excitedly, as if discovering treasure.

A man devoted to artillery, he prized the 37mm direct-fire cannon shells, which were scarce and hard to replenish from battlefield captures.

After several battles, even with rationed use, the original forty-plus shells were down to fewer than thirty.

Thus, well-stocked 81mm mortars would become Wen Song’s primary artillery going forward.