Chapter 9: The Collision of Great Han Soul and "Great Harmony Soul" (Part 2)
The Chinese army's position in front of Da Wang Zhuang village.
Cheng Jiaji's body was already covered in blood, like he had just been pulled out of a vat of red wine. His left shoulder still had a colorful bruise, a "gift" from a little devil who had rushed up with a Type 38 rifle and tried to take him down earlier. If not for Ma Sanbao's quick eyes and hands, Cheng would have already bitten the dust.
Cheng Jiaji could no longer remember how many times the Japanese had charged within an hour, nor could he recall how many soldiers and officers who tried to escape from this bloody hellhole he had executed on the spot. In fact, it was impossible for anyone to keep track of the number of Japanese charges, as both the Japanese and Chinese armies were now fighting without any rules or discipline. The Japanese no longer launched group charges with dozens or hundreds of men, but instead sent small groups of 10-20 men to launch suicidal attacks on specific sections of the Chinese lines, or charged forward for close combat. This left Cheng Jiaji no time to even assemble his dare-to-die troops. Fortunately, at this moment, the Chinese soldiers who had fought in the Battle of Shanghai and the Defense of Nanjing were also whipped into a frenzy by the Japanese suicidal tactics, and they didn't need any further mobilization from their officers. They too charged forward in small groups, with bundles of hand grenades tied to their bodies, towards the Japanese positions. As long as they weren't shot full of holes by the Japanese concentrated firepower along the way, they could always manage to drag a few Japanese soldiers into the arms of their "Amaterasu" god.
It has reached the point where no command is needed, and officers from both sides have gone down to lead their soldiers in direct charges. There are no tactics or strategies left, and the usual well-trained battle methods are all useless now. Even the artillery fire from both sides no longer seeks accuracy, as long as the shells land on the front lines of the village, it's either Chinese or Japanese who will die. Whether it's a Japanese shell or a Chinese shell, whoever gets hit is whoever gets hit.
From a tactical command perspective, the commanders of the Chinese and Japanese armies have lost control over their respective troops at this time. Both sides are no longer conducting organized combat operations. To a greater extent, this battle is now more like a spontaneous and desperate struggle between the officers and soldiers on both sides rather than an organized confrontation. The atmosphere of blood and fire has completely assimilated them, driving them to fight crazily in this bloody dawn with a kind of frenzied emotion that can be described as a high-spirited self-sacrificing spirit. In short, the Chinese and Japanese armies are now completely engaged in a desperate struggle for survival. At this point, the outcome of the battle is no longer determined by factors such as firepower and tactics, but rather by which side's willpower will be overwhelmed by the other.
Not everyone's willpower was so strong, and both the Japanese and Chinese armies had some new recruits who couldn't withstand this scene that would make a normal person's nerves collapse at any time. From time to time, there were soldiers from both sides who really couldn't stand the oppressive atmosphere and collapsed mentally, either waiting for death in place or turning around and running away during hand-to-hand combat with the enemy. For the former, officers on both sides could ignore them, but for the latter, officers generally had no choice but to execute these poor soldiers on the spot to prevent a chain reaction that would collapse the front line. The entire battlefield was shrouded in a strange pink color due to the flames and thick blood, filled with an unspeakable beauty, like a bloody sunset.
The intense war atmosphere at the front of the village did not scare off those who were wandering between life and death, but instead scared off Ji Mianzhong, the commander of the vanguard brigade who was observing the battle at the mouth of the village, waiting for the most opportune moment to launch a surprise attack, minimize casualties among his troops, and win the battle in one fell swoop.
Ji Minzhong had been a soldier for over ten years and had not infrequently gone to the battlefield. However, whether it was during the period of domestic warlord strife, when the defeated side could ransom people after victory or defeat, and captured generals could receive preferential treatment in brothels - a "civilized" war; or the "Central Plains War", where millions of various domestic troops engaged in bloody battles, far exceeding this battle in scale. But if compared to the cruelty degree, his previous participation in those so-called great wars and bloodbaths were just peaceful gatherings where two armies gathered together and fired guns at each other's positions, compared to what was happening now at Dawang Zhuang and Qianzhuangkou.
Ji Minzhong stood still, holding the binoculars for over an hour, ignoring Jiang Feng's repeated urging to give the order to attack. He was deeply shocked by what was happening in front of him at Dàwáng Zhuāng, and to be honest, he had only intended to take a look around but was frightened out of his wits by the real bloody battle unfolding before his eyes. No matter what, he didn't dare take another step closer to that hellhole. It's worth noting that it's not uncommon in military history for people who are on the scene to be overwhelmed, while those observing from a distance have their morale collapse first; this can also be considered normal human behavior.
But Jiang Feng, the deputy company commander who originated from a conscript soldier and had been with Xia Weimin for many years, couldn't wait any longer. He knew that if Cheng Jiaji had an accident, he and his men would be watching from the sidelines, and even if the military law department showed mercy and gave them a way out due to old relationships, Xia's wife would still hire a hitman to get rid of him and Ji Minzhong, the coward. Moreover, he felt that neither the military law department nor the military court had any reason to show mercy to these two people.
Compared to Ji Minzhong, who was 38 or 39 years old and had a greatly reduced aura, Jiang Feng, who was only in his early twenties, was full of vigor and ambition, eager to seek wealth and honor. But where could a soldier's wealth and honor come from? In the end, it all came down to fighting, and without military achievements, even if one was favored by their superiors, they couldn't become a capable commander. The current situation seemed like a rare opportunity to Jiang Feng, as the Japanese had completely disrupted the established order, and except for an artillery company that was still firing its last rounds of ammunition, all the other enemy troops had been pushed back to Zhuangkou. As long as he led his cavalry unit in a charge, the enemy would surely collapse. Under the stimulation of the wealth and honor that seemed within reach, Jiang Feng's gaze towards Ji Minzhong, a superior with whom he had always gotten along, changed, but Ji Minzhong was unaware of his deputy's psychological changes, as he was already deeply entrenched in the situation at Zhuangkou.
