Spy Wars: I am the Captain of the Military Police

Individual bravery cannot reverse the overall disadvantage.

A Japanese sergeant suddenly thrust from the side, his sharp bayonet piercing Lu Weisan's abdomen.

Lu Weisan's body trembled violently; the excruciating pain nearly made him faint, but he endured it and with a backhand stroke, severed half of the sergeant's shoulder. Intestines spilled from the ruptured wound, but he pressed them firmly with his left hand, while his right hand still gripped his command sword, standing tall and unyielding.

At that moment, a Japanese Type 89 medium tank roared across the temporary passage over the moat and headed towards the breach.

The machine guns on the tanks opened fire wildly, mowing down the suicide squad members in droves.

"Tanks! Damn tanks!" the surviving soldier cried out, despair in his eyes.

Lu Weisan raised his cloudy eyes and looked at the approaching steel monster, a crazy smile flashing across his face.

With his last ounce of strength, he hurled his command sword like a javelin toward the tank's observation port!

The blade struck the armor, sparks flying...

Japanese tanks eventually rolled over the pile of corpses of Lu Weisan and many suicide squad members, and, accompanied by more infantry, surged in through the breach in Zhonghua Gate.

The city of Nanjing was ripped open with a bloody gash.

However, the defenders' resistance did not end.

The remaining forces of the 264th Brigade had already made their final deployments under the command of Brigade Commander Liao Lingqi and others.

Knowing that the city walls would eventually fall, they used their last strength to prepare for the street fighting.

When the vanguard of the Japanese army, including that swaggering tank, stormed into the city and advanced along Taiping Road, they thought victory was in sight, and their formation began to tighten.

Brigade Commander Liao Lingqi stared intently at the Japanese advance from the window of a half-collapsed building in the distance. His uniform was soaked in blood, whether his own or that of his comrades, he couldn't tell.

As the majority of the army entered the pre-designated minefield that day, he nodded to the only remaining communications soldier beside him and uttered a single word:

"burst!"

The sapper slammed down the detonator in his hand.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

In an instant, the entire Taiping Road was transformed into a fiery hell! Landmines and explosive charges buried under the ruins on both sides of the street were detonated one after another.

A massive fireball soared into the air, its shockwave sweeping away everything in its path, carrying with it debris and broken wood.

The Japanese tank had its tracks blown off and was engulfed in flames.

The surrounding Japanese soldiers were torn apart by the explosion, their screams echoing throughout the air.

The flames spread rapidly, igniting the already dilapidated houses on both sides of the street and forming a huge wall of fire, temporarily blocking the entry of subsequent Japanese troops.

This sea of ​​fire became the final chapter of the Zhonghua Gate defenders' self-destruction, and also the most tragic footnote to the first day of Nanjing's fall.

. . . . . . . . .

At the same time that Zhonghua Gate was breached, on the main peak of Yuhuatai, a tattered flag of the Republic of China, with a white sun and a red earth, stubbornly fluttered amidst the smoke of war. The flag was riddled with holes, yet it was not lowered.

Zhu Chi, the brigade commander of the 262nd Brigade of the 88th Division, stood on the ruins of a Ming Dynasty artillery fort on the mountaintop and looked down through his binoculars.

At only thirty-seven years old, Brigade Commander Zhu Chi's face was etched with a weariness far beyond his years by days of bloody battles.

His military uniform was stained with mud and dark brown bloodstains, and the simple bandage on his left arm was still bleeding faintly.

"Commander, the Japanese are coming up again," Chief of Staff Li Weicheng reported in a hoarse voice, his voice full of exhaustion.

Zhu Chi did not put down the binoculars, but simply nodded slightly.

Down the mountain, the Japanese 114th Division swarmed together like ants.

This is another attack, and it will be the last.

As the highest point in southern Nanjing, Yuhuatai would expose the entire Zhonghua Gate to enemy fire if it fell.

"How many people do we have left?" Zhu Chi asked, even though he already knew the answer in his mind.

"Those who can fight, including the lightly wounded, total eighty-seven people." Li Weicheng's voice was low: "Ammunition is also running low. Each gun has less than fifty rounds of ammunition, there are two boxes of hand grenades left, and mortar shells... only two rounds left."

Zhu Chi put down his binoculars and turned to face his ragged but determined subordinates.

Some of them were still young soldiers under twenty, their faces bearing a determination beyond their years.

Some of them were veterans who had followed him for many years, their eyes revealing a deep understanding of life and death.

Without grand pronouncements or stirring slogans, the soldiers simply checked their weapons silently, polished their bayonets, and neatly arranged their few bullets.

They knew this might be their last battle.

The Japanese army did not keep the defenders waiting for long.

At 10:00 AM, the artillery preparations began.

Shells rained down on the Yuhuatai position, the entire hilltop was shrouded in smoke, and deafening explosions echoed one after another.

The more than one hundred defenders huddled in their makeshift bunkers, feeling the earth tremble violently.

The shelling lasted for nearly an hour.

As the sound of cannon fire gradually subsided, Zhu Chi shook off the dirt on his body and peered out.

Strangely, the Japanese army did not launch an attack as usual. Instead, they saw countless infantrymen carrying bundles of firewood crawling up the mountain in a low posture.

"What kind of new tactic is this?" asked the young messenger, Little Dog, in confusion.

Zhu Chi frowned, then immediately understood the Japanese army's intention: "They want to set the mountain on fire! This firewood is meant to burn down our bunkers!"

The situation is critical.

The defenders' bunkers were mostly made of wood, and once they were set on fire, they would have nowhere to escape. The Japanese army could then take advantage of the defenders' retreat to seize the hilltop.

"Sir, what should we do?" Li Weicheng asked anxiously.

Zhu Chi's gaze swept across the battlefield, and he suddenly remembered something: "Do you remember the irrigation canal we dug last month? It was the one that was connected to the water storage tank on the mountaintop, to prevent the Japanese from using fire attacks."

Li Weicheng's eyes lit up: "I remember! But is there enough water?"

"We'll only know if we try. Take a few men and open all the sluice gates to divert water to the front line!" Zhu Chi ordered, grabbing a Czech-made light machine gun at the same time: "The rest of you, prepare to fire, wait for my orders!"

The Japanese troops continued to crawl forward, carrying firewood on their backs. Their movements were slow, but their numbers were so great that they covered the hillside like fire ants.

The Japanese soldiers at the front had approached within fifty meters of the position and were preparing to set fire.

Zhu Chi held his breath, calculating the distance and time.

He could hear his own heartbeat and feel the tension of the soldiers around him. Just then, the mountain stream flowed to the front line of the position through the pre-dug channel. Although the amount of water was not large, it was enough to wet an area.

"Fire!"

At Zhu Chi's command, all weapons on the position opened fire at once, bullets slicing through the Japanese troops like scythes, and the enemy in the front ranks fell to the ground one after another.

The Japanese commander was clearly unprepared for the defenders' fierce firepower and hastily ordered the troops to be fired.

However, the water-soaked firewood was difficult to burn quickly, and the thick smoke it emitted actually obstructed the Japanese troops' view.

Worse still, the water mixed with the mud, forming a swamp. Japanese soldiers carrying heavy loads of firewood struggled to move through the mud, becoming easy targets for the defenders.