Bright Sword: The Flowers of War

Chapter 113 Street Fighting
The night was as dark as ink, and the ruins of Taierzhuang were filled with the smell of gunpowder and blood. Inside the dilapidated Guandi Temple, a few oil lamps flickered with a dim yellow light, illuminating the mottled statues in an intermittent manner.

Shell casings were scattered on the shattered blue bricks. The incense table had long been overturned by the artillery fire, and half a broken incense stick was stuck diagonally in the ash, still stubbornly emitting wisps of smoke.

Su Yaoyang leaned against the statue, his eyes slightly narrowed, as if he were resting.

In front of him were more than a dozen battalion and company commanders who had just come from the front lines for a meeting.

These people were sitting nearby, wolfing down their food. Next to them was a large pot of sorghum mixed with Spam luncheon meat, dehydrated vegetables, and sugar-coated peanuts.

These company and battalion commanders looked like starving ghosts reincarnated, some even making smacking noises.

About ten minutes later, the people gradually slowed down their eating pace.

Lu Shaobin, who finished eating first, ladled out a bowl of cabbage soup and leaned against the wall, sipping it slowly with a satisfied look on his face.

A few minutes later, seeing that everyone had almost finished eating, Su Yaoyang tapped the table and said to everyone, "Are you all full? Then let's get to the meeting."

After everyone was seated, Su Yaoyang took out a pack of Lucky Cigarettes, took one out and threw it on the table, but it was snatched away by the people next to him and they divided it up one by one.

Su Yaoyang couldn't help but laugh and scold, "You guys, doesn't the logistics department give each of you a carton of cigarettes every week? Why are you still trying to mooch off me?"

Li Gaoyuan said with a grin, "It's because the commander's cigarettes are so good. The camel flavor you gave us was too strong, I didn't like it."

Su Yaoyang shook his head helplessly, watching everyone taking turns taking pictures, making the entire Guandi Temple filled with smoke, as if a smoke bomb had been thrown.

"Alright... everyone, let's talk about it. What are your takeaways from today's battle?"

Upon hearing Su Yaoyang's words, the expressions of the group, who had been relaxed, began to turn serious.

Third Battalion Commander Lu Shaobin said, "This newly replaced batch of Japanese soldiers are very cunning. They advance step by step and fight very steadily."

Battalion Commander Liang Zefeng also said with a stern face: "Before each attack, the Japanese would use artillery fire to bombard our positions and all our firing points, resulting in heavy casualties among our brothers."

Li Gaoyuan also said, "What I hate most are the Japanese planes. One heavy bomb can wipe out an entire squad or even a platoon."

"Is there anything else?" Su Yaoyang asked calmly.

"The Japanese are using such a difficult tactic. We have no way to stop them except to retreat step by step," a company commander said.

Everyone shared their experiences and difficulties encountered that day.

Su Yaoyang also jumped out of his notebook and wrote everything down.

After everyone had finished speaking, Su Yaoyang said, "I've noted down everything you all said. In short, Japan used their air superiority to gradually erode our strength. Faced with the Japanese army's powerful air force and artillery, we could only retreat step by step, is that right?"

"Yes." Everyone nodded in agreement.

"I've noticed what everyone's been saying today," Su Yaoyang said. "Does anyone have any solutions?"

"Commander, I think we should take advantage of the complex terrain inside the village and lay more landmines to blow them up."

"I think we should take advantage of our automatic weapons, abandon positional warfare, and fight the Japanese house by house and street by street."

Listening to everyone's comments, Su Yaoyang and Li Gaoyuan exchanged a glance and nodded in satisfaction.

As the saying goes, three cobblers are better than one Zhuge Liang. With the collective wisdom of the group, Su Yaoyang and his officers began to study tactics... The next morning, before the fog had lifted, artillery fire had already torn apart the dawn of Taierzhuang.

The roar of the Type 97 heavy bomber shattered the last vestige of tranquility. The blast wave hurled away the remaining rubble, and the broken tiles rained down on the scorched earth like black rain.

After the bombing, the Japanese 39th Regiment launched its attack.

The third courtyard in the east alley was filled with the smell of gunpowder and dust.

A combat team consisting of riflemen, submachine gunners, and grenadiers lay in ambush, holding their breath.

The bombardier's body trembled slightly. Two MK2 defensive grenades lay quietly in his palm as he took a deep breath and stared intently at the direction of the courtyard gate.

Soon, the sound of leather boots approached from afar, shattering the silence of the courtyard.

As the first figure in khaki crossed the threshold and entered the courtyard, the grenade thrower abruptly pulled the pin, swung his arm, and sent the grenade flying in an arc into the yard.

The deafening explosion tore through the air, flames shot into the sky, shrapnel and debris flew everywhere, and billowing smoke engulfed the entire courtyard.

After the explosion, the submachine gunner leaped out from behind his cover. He held a Thompson M1928A1 submachine gun loaded with a 100-round drum magazine and pulled the trigger toward the yard. With a crisp gunshot, the muzzle spat out a scorching tongue of fire, and bullets poured out like a rainstorm, with spent cartridges clattering to the ground.

The scorching metallic smell mixed with the odor of gunpowder assaulted his senses, blurring his vision with smoke and dust, but his finger remained firmly gripped on the trigger until the drumstick made a hollow click, at which point he stopped.

Then, without even looking back, the three of them slipped out through the back door they had planned beforehand, like frightened mice. When the nearby Japanese soldiers arrived, they only saw five or six of their comrades' corpses lying in pools of blood.

On another street, a group of Japanese soldiers, consisting of three combat squads, carrying Type 38 rifles and a Type 11 light machine gun, advanced slowly and cautiously along the dilapidated street.

The lead sergeant's forehead was covered in cold sweat, his finger was tightly gripping the trigger, and his eyes kept scanning the ruins on both sides.

Suddenly, a gunshot shattered the silence.

The soldier at the front suddenly fell backward, his helmet rolling off his head.

The remaining Japanese soldiers immediately lay down and sought cover, but a second shot rang out quickly, and another soldier fell to the ground clutching his chest, blood gushing from between his fingers.

"Sniper!"

The sergeant roared, his voice a mixture of fear and anger.

They frantically searched for cover, but there was nowhere to hide in the narrow streets. The machine gunner quickly set up his machine gun and pulled the trigger in the general direction from which the sound came.

Soon, a third bullet pierced the machine gunner's forehead with pinpoint accuracy, and his body slammed heavily onto the rubble, kicking up a cloud of dust.

On a distant rooftop, Zhang Wenshan squinted, the barrel of his Springfield sniper rifle gleaming coldly in the sunlight.

He slowly exhaled, feeling the coldness and elasticity of the trigger at his fingertips.

By this time, the Japanese troops on the street were in complete chaos. Unable to find the attackers, they could only desperately loot indiscriminately, while others ran away, creating an extremely chaotic scene.

After two more men died, the infantry squad finally collapsed completely, and everyone fled frantically back the way they came.

(End of this chapter)