Spy Wars: I am the Captain of the Military Police

Fifty miles away, Itagaki Seishirō stood in front of his makeshift command post, observing the distant Zhenbian Town through a telescope. A sneer curled his lips: "The Chinese have been fooled."

The chief of staff handed over a telegram: "Division Commander, the flanking force has arrived at the designated position."

"Yoshi!" Itagaki put away his telescope. "Order the main force to attack Zhenbian City and Hengling City at dawn tomorrow. This time, I want to break through the Nankou defense line in one fell swoop!"

As the night deepened, the defenders on the Nankou front were unaware that a bigger storm was brewing.

What they had just won was nothing more than a carefully designed baiting battle.

August 1937, 8, at dawn.

Gunfire from the town's border town pierced the morning mist as the Fifth Division's flanking troops surged toward the defending positions. Less than two companies remained behind in the 416th Regiment, and under heavy Japanese artillery fire, their defenses were ripped apart like paper.

"Report to the commander! Zhenbiancheng... has been lost!" The messenger was covered in blood and his voice was hoarse: "The Japs are moving too fast and have penetrated deep into the territory!"

Captain Li punched the battle map, causing the teacup to fall over and the tea to soak the map with the defense line marked on it.

He then realized that he had fallen into a trap! Yesterday, he sent troops to reinforce the second defensive zone, but he actually opened his own door wide!

At the same time, rumbling artillery sounds were heard from the direction of Shuitou Village.

Before noon, the front-line observation post received the bad news: "Shuitou Village has fallen! The Japanese army is advancing rapidly towards Huailai!"

In Tang Enbo's command center, the telegraph machine kept ticking.

The staff officers' faces were pale, and the red pencils in their hands drew a shocking red arrow on the map. The Fifth Division had perfectly bypassed the Taihang Mountain defense line and stabbed into the back of the 13th Army like a sharp knife!

"Send a telegram to Nanjing!" Tang Enbo's voice was terribly hoarse. "Say that our army is under attack from both sides and request permission to turn around!"

Every minute of waiting for a call back was torture.

Outside the window, the sound of artillery fire was getting closer and closer, causing dust to fall from the roof of the headquarters.

Finally, the telegraph operator trembled as he handed over the reply from Nanjing. The few words on the paper weighed a thousand words:

"We must hold on to the bitter end! Do not talk of retreating. If we retreat, we will all die. Only by holding on and waiting for reinforcements can we have a glimmer of hope. Wei Lihuang's troops are coming soon."

Tang Enbo stared at the telegram, his fingers shaking uncontrollably.

On the map, the red arrows representing the Japanese army have formed a siege. The enemy troops in Shuitou Village are less than 14 miles away from Huailai, but there is no news from Wei Lihuang's th Army.

What’s even more terrifying is that the situation in the direction of Zhangjiakou is unclear and the last retreat route may be cut off at any time!

"Send an order..." Tang Enbo closed his red eyes, his Adam's apple rolling with difficulty: "Huailai defenders...stop the Japanese army at all costs!"

The staff officers looked at each other in bewilderment, and some couldn't help but murmur, "This...isn't this sending our brothers to their deaths?"

Tang Enbo turned abruptly, his eyes bloodshot. "Follow orders!" His voice suddenly rose. "Tell the brothers that reinforcements are on the way! We must hold out until General Wei Lihuang's troops arrive!"

As he walked out of the command center, Tang Enbo staggered.

The adjutant rushed forward to support him, but was pushed away by him.

The setting sun stretched his shadow very long, casting a lonely shadow on the dirt road full of craters.

In the distance, artillery fire dyed half the sky red.

Tang Enbo knew that he was pushing thousands of soldiers into a desperate situation, but the cold electric order from Nanjing was like a gun against his back, leaving him with no choice.

August 1937, 8, Hongkou District, Shanghai.

The once prosperous concession now looks like hell on earth.

Broken glass windows reflected the blood-red sunset, and the streets were littered with abandoned suitcases and overturned rickshaws.

The air was filled with gunpowder smoke and the smell of burning. The sound of artillery in the distance was like muffled thunder, shaking the ground slightly.

"Open the door! Recruitment order for the Imperial Marines!" The sound of rough knocking on doors was heard in front of every villa.

Japanese soldiers wearing helmets smashed open the carved iron doors with their rifle butts and roughly dragged out the expatriates hiding in the closets.

"Please! My husband died in the battle yesterday!" A woman in kimono held the door frame tightly, her nails leaving deep bloody marks on the wooden door.

The two Marines turned a deaf ear and forcibly pulled the twelve-year-old boy out of her arms.

At the corner of the street, a major officer holding a tin horn stood on an ammunition box and roared: "All imperial citizens over the age of ten must gather at the Naval Club immediately! This is a military order!" His voice was so hoarse that it was no longer human, but it was still drowned out by the explosions that came one after another.

A white-haired old man was staggered onto the truck, holding a pillow embroidered with the family crest in his arms.

The businessman wearing glasses tried to escape by climbing over the wall in the chaos, but was caught by a searchlight. Soldiers then ran up, punched and kicked him, and finally dragged him away.

In the Naval Headquarters, Sugiyama Rokuzo stared at the small blue flag that was constantly retreating on the sand table, with veins bulging on his forehead.

The red arrow representing the Chinese army has penetrated into the heart of Hongkou, and the Navy Special Marine Corps has suffered more than 70% casualties.

"Arm the expatriates!" he suddenly shouted, his fists pounding the sand table, shaking it violently. "Anyone who can handle a rifle, even women and children, must be sent into the line of fire!"

The staff officers looked at each other, and someone whispered a reminder: "But..."

Sugiyama Rokuzo overturned the entire sand table, and broken glass crunched under the officers' leather boots: "If Hongkou is lost, we will all commit seppuku!"

In the twilight, trucks loaded with civilians drove towards the front line.

A girl in a school uniform took the rifle tremblingly. The butt was still stained with the blood of its previous owner.

In the distance, the Chinese army's mortars are calibrating their firing ranges, and a new round of steel storm is about to descend upon this hell on earth.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

August 937, 8, Haihe River Wharf in the Japanese Concession in Tianjin.

The morning mist had not yet dissipated, but the dock was already crowded with people.

The military police set up a guard post every three steps and a sentry every five steps. Their bayonets gleamed coldly in the morning sun, and they surrounded the entire dock tightly.

As Zhou Zhengqing's black car slowly drove in, the sound of its tires rolling over the gravel road attracted everyone's attention.

From a distance, he saw Itagaki Seishirō surrounded by a group of officers.

The division commander, who was supposed to be on the Nankou front, was now flushed with joy, waving his arms and talking loudly, with the gold thread on the scabbard of his saber gleaming in the sun.

Perhaps noticing Zhou Zhengqing's arrival, the crowd all turned to look over.

When Zhou Zhengqing got off the car, several people with generals' epaulettes on their shoulders walked towards this side quickly.

When they got closer, Daihui Zhishu, who was walking in front, saluted first, then stood up and said with a smile, "You are finally here, kid. We were just wondering if you would come."