Spy Wars: I am the Captain of the Military Police

Fear of fighting was rampant throughout the offensive line.

Many Japanese soldiers lay in bomb craters or among piles of corpses, refusing to move forward.

The officers threatened with sabers and even shot several soldiers who cowered on the spot, but they were unable to motivate these frightened soldiers.

The commander of the 6th Division, Tani Hisao, witnessed all this at the front-line observation post and his face turned pale.

He originally thought that yesterday's report was exaggerated, but now what he saw with his own eyes was even more terrifying than what was described in the report.

"Division Commander, we can't continue attacking like this!" the Chief of Staff urged anxiously, "We're sending our soldiers to their deaths!"

Tani Hisao gnashed his teeth as he stared at the iron position that had swallowed up countless of his soldiers. Finally, he waved his hand helplessly: "... Stop the attack. Let the troops withdraw."

When the retreat order reached the front line, many Japanese soldiers almost cried.

They crawled or ran backwards in panic, even throwing away their weapons, just to leave this place of death as soon as possible.

The defensive positions outside Songjiang City still maintained that terrifying calm and efficiency, with only occasional artillery fire chasing the retreating Japanese troops, as if mocking their incompetence.

At the same time, the terrifying artillery fire from yesterday descended again...

Tani Hisao stared blankly at his own soldiers on the front line being overwhelmed by artillery fire. . . .

It turns out that it’s not that they don’t fire, they’re just waiting for you to run away and retreat, and then they’ll fire another round at you… leaving you in complete despair at the moment of your greatest collapse…

What confidence this is...

In the attack that day, the Japanese army suffered more than 2,000 casualties, but failed to capture even a single trench.

This piece of land outside Songjiang City became an eternal nightmare and psychological shadow in the hearts of the officers and soldiers of the 10th Japanese Army.

And that mysterious armored force, like an invisible steel wall, firmly blocked the way of 100,000 Japanese troops.

. . . . . .

The dawn of November 9, 1937, arrived in Zhabei, Shanghai in an extremely strange way.

The first thing that pierced the night was not the sunlight, but the flares that rose from time to time on the Japanese positions.

Those pale white balls of light shot up into the sky with trailing flames, and after reaching their highest point, they slowly fell, illuminating the entire ruins in flickering light.

Every time the light flashed, the collapsed houses, twisted barbed wire, and broken trees would cast hideous shadows on the ruins, like ghosts with bared fangs and claws.

Private First Class Li Changshun woke up in this interweaving of light and shadow.

He first smelled the smell that had been with him for three months, a mixture of gunpowder smoke and blood, mixed with the sweet and greasy smell of rotting corpses.

The smell was so strong that he could no longer remember what fresh air felt like.

A chill came over him and he shivered involuntarily.

It was winter in Shanghai in November, and the temperature was very low in the early morning. His tattered military uniform could not keep out the cold at all.

He subconsciously leaned towards the source of heat beside him, which was the second child who was still sleeping soundly.

Then he suddenly woke up - in the position, any unnecessary movement might attract a sniper's bullet.

Li Changshun raised his head cautiously and looked out through the firing hole of the bunker.

The sky is gradually getting brighter, but all you can see are broken walls and ruins. This was once one of the most prosperous areas in Zhabei, but now only broken bricks and twisted steel bars remain.

The facade of a Western-style building was still barely standing, its walls riddled with bullet holes. A window on the second floor hung there alone, its glass having long since been shattered.

He glanced at the front of the position, where several swollen bodies lay, some of them Japanese soldiers and some of his own comrades.

The Japanese army launched a charge yesterday evening. Although it was repelled, both sides paid a heavy price.

The bodies just lay there in the no-man's land between the two armies' positions, and no one had time to clean them up.

"Kidnapper, are you awake?" A soft voice came from beside him.

Li Changshun turned his head and saw the veteran Hu Dagou checking his Zhongzheng rifle.

This man from Shandong is the oldest soldier in the company and is said to have been a soldier for ten years.

At this moment, he was carefully wiping the bolt with a rag, his movements skillful and gentle, as if he was caressing his lover's skin.

"Yeah." Li Changshun responded briefly, then lowered his voice: "Is there any movement?"

Hu Daren shook his head. "The Japs have been quiet since midnight, and they've only fired a dozen or so rounds. I think they're planning something bad. But I heard the order came down from above, saying they're going to retreat. Maybe other troops have already started, but I don't know when we'll leave!" He stopped what he was doing and listened for a moment. "Listen, the artillery fire from the Huangpu River has subsided."

Li Changshun also listened attentively.

Indeed, the sound of artillery coming from the southeast was much sparser than in the past few days, and seemed to be farther away, which gave him an uneasy premonition.

"Damn, this awful weather." A muttering came from not far away. New recruit Douzi was trying to light a damp cigarette.

This young man from Jiangsu is only seventeen years old and still has a childish look on his face, but his eyes are as numb as those of other veterans.

Li Changshun felt in his pocket, pulled out a half-empty box of matches and threw it over: "Use them sparingly, that's all I have."

Douzi took the match, nodded gratefully, and finally lit the wrinkled cigarette.

He took a deep breath and then started coughing violently.

"If you don't know how to smoke, don't waste the food." Hu Dagu scolded with a smile: "Give me a mouthful."

A few suppressed laughs were heard on the battlefield.

In this dead silence of dawn, any sound of living people seems particularly precious.

Li Changshun's stomach suddenly growled, and he remembered that he hadn't eaten for almost a day.

He fumbled and took out a can of beef from the dry food bag he was carrying. It was the "foreign goods" sent by the Shanghai Citizens' Comfort Team half a month ago.

The tin box was printed in English, reflecting a faint light under the flash of the flare.

He used his bayonet to pry open the can with great effort, and a greasy meaty aroma immediately wafted out.

Several eyes around him immediately focused on his hands, and Li Changshun could hear someone swallowing quietly.

"Kidnapper, leave some soup for me..." The second child beside him moaned weakly.

Li Changshun turned his head and his heart suddenly tightened.

Erwazi's condition was worse than yesterday. His left leg was blown off by a Japanese grenade launcher. Although it was tightly bandaged, the wound was obviously infected.

Erwazi's face was pale, his forehead was terribly hot, and his cracked lips were trembling constantly.

"Wake up and eat something." Li Changshun gently pushed Erwazi and handed the can to his mouth.

Erwazi forced his eyes open and shook his head: "I can't eat... Kidnapper, am I going to die?"

"Bullshit!" Li Changshun cursed gruffly, "Wait for the stretcher team to arrive and send you to the rear hospital. After a few months of recuperation, you'll be back to full strength."

He knew he was lying.

The stretcher team hasn't arrived for three days, and the company's medical officer was killed by a stray bullet yesterday.

For seriously injured people like Erwazi, the hope of survival is very slim.