Chapter 17: Not the Japanese Troops from Yang Village

Chapter 17: Not the Japanese Unit from Yang Village

(Part One)

Li Yunlong nodded firmly and said fiercely, “It’s best if it’s them! Damn it, I haven’t gone looking for them yet, but they came knocking instead. Perfect—now I can settle the score for Yang Village all at once!”

“Strategically, we may underestimate the enemy, but tactically, we must always respect them!” Zhao Gang reminded.

“Report to the regiment commander and political commissar! The reconnaissance company has assembled!”
“Report! The guard company has assembled!”
“Report! 1st Battalion, 2nd Company has assembled!”
“Report! The assault team has assembled. Battalion Commander Zhang Dabiao requests to lead the assault team!”

Li Yunlong picked up his hat from the table, patted it twice on his body, and said, “Respect? I’ll definitely give them a heavy dose of respect! Damn it, they’re pushing their luck too far!”

After speaking harshly, Li Yunlong put on his hat, muttering curses as he strode over and suddenly flung the door open.

(Part Two)

The sky remained gloomy and gray, making it hard to tell whether it was morning, noon, or dusk.

Chenjiayu—headquarters of the Eighth Route Army’s forward command.

More than a year ago, in January 1941, after an encounter between the Yang Village Independent Regiment near Daxiawan and a mysterious Japanese unit, the command center was relocated from Daxiawan to this place for safety.

This all stemmed from the 1940 Hundred Regiments Offensive, which shattered the Japanese boast of “conquering China in three months.” Furious and humiliated, they amassed heavy forces to launch retaliatory “sweeps” against our North China bases, deploying multiple reconnaissance planes equipped with radio interception gear and mounted infantry scouts to locate and destroy the Eighth Route Army’s division and corps headquarters, even targeting the forward command center.

The skirmish involving Yamamoto Kazuki’s special unit at Yang Village and the surprise attack on the arsenal by Yamazaki’s battalion at Yixiantian were both tactical moves for revenge.

“Where has the Independent Regiment moved to? Any news?” The commanding officer, dust-covered from inspection, asked immediately upon entering, brushing off the dirt on his uniform.

“The call just ended. At 1:45 p.m., their division headquarters called. Li Yunlong’s regiment covered the county and district committees and arrived at Mopancun village yesterday afternoon. The other units have also reached their designated positions one after another,” the deputy chief of staff reported.

The commanding officer muttered to himself, “Oh, they arrived yesterday afternoon. That means the phone lines will take several days to connect.”

The Eighth Route Army’s units were critically short of radio sets; currently, only division and corps levels could reliably be equipped. Wired phones between division and regiment levels could only be installed once the bases stabilized. Communication below regiment level down to battalion and company relied on letters and messengers—the most primitive methods.

“Sir, have some water!” An officer handed a steaming enamel cup to the commander.

Taking the cup, the commander continued talking with the deputy chief of staff, asking, “Have they confirmed the reconnaissance team’s encounter? Was it the Japanese unit?”

“The team sent by the Independent Regiment arrived after the Japanese had already withdrawn, just like last year in Yang Village,” the deputy chief explained. “A search later found the fallen soldiers’ bodies. Comparing bullet holes confirmed it was indeed the same Japanese unit that launched the sneak attack in Yang Village last year.”

“Hmph!” The commander slammed the enamel cup down hard on the table.

“Report!” The communications officer rushed in holding a telegram, saluted, and said, “Message from Li Yunlong of the Independent Regiment!”

“Li Yunlong?” The commander was surprised.

“When did the Independent Regiment get new radios?” The deputy chief looked at the commander curiously.

The commander suddenly laughed lightly, pointing at the staff officer: “That rascal Li Yunlong is stirring up new trouble again!”

(Part Three)

Two well-maintained Type 38 bolt-action rifles, fully loaded, each with belts carrying front and rear ammunition pouches, all fully stocked. Including five rounds already loaded in each rifle, that meant each rifle was armed with 125 rounds of ammunition.

In other words, these two Japanese soldiers had not fired a single shot during the entire operation up to their deaths.

Besides bayonets, they each carried a finely crafted dagger. The blade’s polished surface shimmered faintly with a bluish flame. Unscrewing the handle revealed a waterproof matchbox, a compass, and a multi-layer celluloid vial containing several types of pills.

Zhao Gang examined them and said, “Bleach… these should be sulfa drugs. I don’t recognize the others. I’ll ask Medic Liu to take a look later.”

“Guan Shan, you should recognize them! Didn’t you write medical books?” Li Yunlong teased with a grin.

Guan Shan quickly replied, “Commander, don’t joke around. I just copied those books—I’m no medical author!”

He dared not admit that he was actually familiar with these medicines. As an experienced outdoorsman from a previous life, he knew emergency drugs were mainly for anti-inflammation, sterilization, protection against snake bites and insects, and poisoning prevention. These pills were quite primitive.

Still, even so, this was the most advanced equipment in the Japanese army. Not only the army at large, but even this reconnaissance team of over a hundred men probably didn’t all have such gear.

“These two winter uniforms really do fool people. If you don't look closely, they could pass for the real thing!” Zhao Gang carefully examined them inside and out.

Two sets of military clothes nearly identical to the Eighth Route Army’s uniforms, deliberately aged and patched in various places, dirtied and stained with sweat.

They also carried cloth pouches designed for wooden-handle grenades, each man with four grenades slung on his back.

“That only fools someone like you!” Li Yunlong sneered. “If it were me, I’d spot the fake at a glance!”

“Hey! Why use your eyes? Just use your nose and sniff it out!” Zhao Gang retorted.

Guan Shan glanced secretly at Wei Heshang and Zhao Gang’s bodyguard, Xiao Zhang. The three exchanged sly looks, all struggling to suppress laughter.

There was also a high-grade, finely crafted radio set with Japanese cipher codes and a military map with an impressive scale of 1:50,000.

“Come on, Guan Shan, keep going!” Zhao Gang beckoned.

Guan Shan hesitated, glanced at Li Yunlong.

After ten minutes of reporting, interrupted countless times by Li Yunlong, perhaps it was best to let the chief commander finish first?

“This isn’t the unit that attacked Yang Village or the one from a few days ago! Old Zhao, damn it—this is another unit, and it’s even sneakier. They’re disguised as the Eighth Route Army!” Li Yunlong pointed at the pile of items on the table, fuming.

“Old Li, wait a moment. Guan Shan’s report has been interrupted five or six times!” Zhao Gang stood up with a wry smile and pressed Li Yunlong to sit down.

“No problem, keep going!” Li Yunlong frowned and nodded toward Guan Shan.

Guan Shan hesitated but waited, feeling Li Yunlong still had more to say.

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(End of chapter)