Chapter 6: A Single Strike, A Soul Captured

"An arsenal? Hah! These rustics have even managed to set up an arsenal. It’s a good thing we’ve nearly wiped them out; otherwise, in a few more years, they might even be building their own cannons."

Li Ming spoke while puffing on a cigarette, his eyes half-closed as he added, "They’re running low on ammunition across the way. Once they’ve exhausted their supplies, send someone over to demand their surrender. Keep one or two alive after they surrender, and slaughter the rest."

But Li Ming was unaware that on the high ground not far away, a 37mm flat-trajectory cannon produced by Schneider was already aimed directly at his command post.

"BOOM!!!"

With a thunderous roar, the shell streaked through the air and struck the 138th Regiment’s command post with pinpoint accuracy.

Li Ming had been lying in a rocking chair, rubbing his lower back; thanks to that single shell, he would never have to endure the agony of his ankylosing spondylitis again.

As soon as the 37mm cannon scored its hit, the machine gun fire from the 18th Regiment’s soldiers began to sweep across the Hunan Army camp below.

Three heavy machine guns, combined with six light machine guns, formed a crossfire from the flanks. The density of the fire was immense, and with the high-ground advantage, they suppressed the Nationalist soldiers at the 138th Regiment’s headquarters so effectively that they couldn't even lift their heads.

Once the first round of suppression ended, the assault squad, armed with submachine guns, charged in from both flanks.

"Rat-tat-tat-tat!!!"

The roar of the submachine guns and the flames spitting from their barrels instantly became an inescapable nightmare for the Nationalist soldiers.

Behind the assault team followed the Red Army soldiers. Following the initial barrage, the leaderless Nationalist troops showed immediate signs of breaking. Their machine gun nests attempted to organize a defensive line, but in the next moment, incoming shells slammed into them.

That 37mm cannon had become the perfect fire-support weapon, capable of clearing out Nationalist machine gun nests in a matter of moments.

Wen Song’s skill in operating the artillery was truly extraordinary. Long Wencheng knew that even a proficient gunner usually needed a shell or two to calibrate the trajectory; those who could score a direct hit on the first shot were rare, elite marksmen.

Clearly, Wen Song was just such a gunner. His first shell had demolished the enemy command post, killing their regimental commander, Li Ming. The subsequent three shells had hammered the Nationalist fire support points, taking out three machine gun nests in quick succession.

Without machine gun cover, and left without a leader, the Nationalist troops could not gauge the size of the force opposing them. They only felt the terrifying intensity of the fire and the pressure of the pincer attack, instinctively turning to retreat.

Under the assault team’s charge, this retreat quickly devolved into a rout. The men scattered across the hills like a flock of sheep pursued by wolves.

***

After pursuing the enemy for a short distance, Yang Gang led the assault squad back.

Long Wencheng then arrived on the battlefield with the rest of his men. He instructed Yang Gang to shed his Nationalist uniform and go to the nearby hill to call out to the besieged Red Army soldiers. Seeing that they were their own, the trapped soldiers came down.

The man leading them was dark-skinned with thinning hair; though he wore a Red Army uniform, he looked more like a prematurely balding craftsman.

"I am Huang Kecheng, director of the Dongchong Arsenal," he introduced himself.

Long Wencheng was familiar with this arsenal; it was one of the Red Army's earliest, though it was small-scale with only about thirty craftsmen and limited manufacturing capabilities.

"Shouldn't you have crossed the river with the Central Column? How did you end up falling behind?" Long Wencheng asked after introducing himself.

Huang Kecheng sighed and explained the situation. Because the arsenal held many pieces of equipment, transporting the machine tools had been incredibly difficult. Although they had a few oxen and mules to help, the volume of cargo was so great that their marching speed was agonizingly slow, causing them to fall behind.

Huang had requested permission to bury some of the equipment on-site to preserve the talent and core machinery, but his superiors had not approved it. Later, they suddenly received orders to bury or destroy the equipment and speed up to catch the Central Column. Unfortunately, it was too late. After burying the equipment and heading west, they ran straight into the encircling Hunan Army.

The arsenal had few people to begin with, and including the escort troops, they numbered only about one hundred and fifty, with only about a hundred actual combatants. After the battle, only a little over a hundred remained.

"Director Huang, why don't you come with us? We are also crossing the Xiang River to catch up with the Central Column," Long Wencheng said.

"That is exactly what I was hoping for!" Huang Kecheng clapped his hands, clearly emotional.

At that moment, Long Wencheng recalled something else.

***

Those machine tools were vital to the Red Army.

"Where did you bury the machine tools?" Long Wencheng asked.

Huang Kecheng looked troubled. "Regimental Commander Long, do you intend to bring the machine tools with us? That equipment is extremely heavy; relying on manpower to transport it will slow down our march."

"It’s no problem. We have plenty of pack animals; it won't affect our speed." He gestured toward the rear. They currently had over forty mules and horses, and they had captured more from the 138th Regiment’s command post.

"Very well, as long as it doesn't hinder the march, I will take you there." Huang Kecheng nodded firmly.

The location was not far away. Long Wencheng ordered the Second Battalion commander, Yang Gang, to take a team and some pack animals to follow Huang to retrieve the equipment, while he led the main force to clear the battlefield.

The harvest this time was substantial. The 138th Regiment was less well-equipped than the 177th; they had no artillery, and only two Maxim heavy machine guns. Beyond that, there were 150 Hanyang-made rifles, two Czech light machine guns, ten submachine guns, and five crates of grenades from the Hanyang Iron Works.

There was a fair amount of ammunition, and aside from replenishing what they had expended, they had dozens of crates left over.

They captured 20 mules and horses and 5 flatbed carts, which significantly increased their transport capacity. The carts could carry the severely wounded and ammunition crates, greatly reducing the burden on the soldiers.

Now, they possessed 30 submachine guns, 8 Czech light machine guns, 5 heavy machine guns, and one 37mm flat-trajectory cannon. As for the Hanyang rifles, they had nearly five hundred, along with about 20 Mauser "broomhandle" pistols. In a sense, the entire unit had achieved a degree of mobilization via pack animals.