Spy Wars: I am the Captain of the Military Police

"Fire! Shoot them to death!" Zhu Chi personally operated the machine gun, precisely firing at the enemies stuck in the mud.

This general, a graduate of the Whampoa Military Academy, was not only an excellent tactical commander, but also had honed his marksmanship to perfection through years of combat.

The Japanese army's first wave of attacks was thwarted, but they quickly adjusted their tactics.

The follow-up troops no longer carried firewood on their backs, but instead charged uphill by stepping on the corpses of their comrades.

Japanese artillery also began to extend their firing range in an attempt to suppress the defenders' firepower.

The battle intensified, and although the defenders put up a fierce resistance, their numerical disadvantage gradually became apparent.

The Japanese army broke through the left flank of the position, and Zhu Chi personally led the reserve force to launch a counterattack, barely managing to repel the enemy.

During the hand-to-hand combat, Zhu Chi's bayonet broke, and he drew his sword and cut down two Japanese soldiers.

The fierce battle continued until 1 p.m., when the defending troops suffered more than a dozen casualties and ran out of ammunition.

Zhu Chi counted the number of men and found that there were fewer than twenty who could fight.

To make matters worse, he spotted a Japanese artillery observation balloon slowly rising in the distance. The observer on the balloon could directly see the situation of the defending troops' positions, providing the Japanese artillery with precise coordinates.

“We must pop that balloon,” Zhu Chi said to Li Weicheng.

Li Weicheng smiled wryly: "Our anti-aircraft machine guns were destroyed long ago, and our rifles don't have enough range. The only possibility is... mortars."

Zhu Chi remained silent for a moment.

That was their last mortar shell, originally reserved for the last moment.

But if the balloons aren't shot down now, Japanese artillery fire will quickly destroy all their fortifications.

"Traveler, let me give it a try." A voice came from behind.

Zhu Chi turned around and saw Zhao Dahu, a mortarman whose face was covered in gunpowder smoke. He was the best gunner in the 262nd Brigade and had destroyed a Japanese bunker with three shells during the Battle of Shanghai.

"Are you confident?" Zhu Chi asked.

Zhao Dahu shook his head: "The distance is too far, more than twice the standard range, and it's a high-altitude target... At most, I have a 30% chance of success."

Zhu Chi patted him on the shoulder: "Thirty percent is enough, go ahead and fight."

The 81mm mortar was carried out, and Zhao Dahu carefully adjusted the angle, calculating the wind direction and distance.

He knew this was likely the last shot of his life, and all the soldiers held their breath, waiting for the strike.

"Load!" Zhao Dahu shouted. The shell slid into the cannon barrel and shot into the sky with a bang.

Time seemed to slow down as everyone looked up at the cannonball tracing an arc in the air as it flew towards the balloon.

Closer, closer... But the shell ultimately missed the balloon.

A sigh of disappointment rose from the position, and the Japanese observers were clearly startled as the balloon began to descend rapidly.

Zhao Dahu slammed his fist on the bunker wall, his eyes filled with self-reproach.

“No, you did very well.” Zhu Chi’s gaze was sharp. “They’ve started landing, which means they’re scared, and you now have a better reference point.”

Zhao Dahu's eyes lit up: "Commander, you mean..."

"Adjust the parameters and try again!" Zhu Chi commanded.

"But... we only have this one shell left..." Zhao Dahu hesitated.

Zhu Chi said firmly, "Sometimes, life requires taking a gamble. Let's fight!"

Zhao Dahu took a deep breath and recalculated the parameters. This time, he was more cautious, taking into account the changes in the speed and altitude of the balloon's descent.

A few minutes later, he shouted again, "Load!"

The second shell, which was actually the last one, was fired into the sky.

This time, the trajectory was even more perfect, and it met the balloon precisely at the highest point.

With a deafening roar, the balloon transformed into a fireball, and the observer plummeted down with the burning debris.

A brief cheer erupted on the position, but it was immediately interrupted by retaliatory artillery fire from the Japanese army.

The mortar crew, whose position had been exposed, was subjected to concentrated fire, and Zhao Dahu and his two assistants were killed on the spot.

Zhu Chi himself was also hit by shrapnel, and his left leg was mangled and bloody. Fortunately, the guards dragged him to a relatively safe cover in time.

At 3 p.m., the gunfire on Yuhuatai gradually subsided. The defending troops had run out of ammunition and food, and fewer than twenty men were still alive.

The Japanese army seemed to realize this as well, and slowed down their offensive, switching to psychological warfare instead.

"Chinese soldiers, you have fought bravely to the very end. Now lay down your weapons and the Imperial Army will guarantee your safety!" The Japanese army's announcement came through a loudspeaker.

Zhu Chi leaned against a charred pine tree. His left leg had been simply bandaged to stop the bleeding, but the intense pain still made him pale.

Looking around, all I could see were the soldiers' tired but determined faces.

No one wavered, no one offered to surrender.

"Commander, let me carry you down the mountain!" the young guard, Xiao Li, pleaded. "Maybe we can still break through..."

Zhu Chi shook his head and pushed his hand away: "We soldiers are destined to die, and today my wish has been fulfilled!"

He paused, his voice weak but unusually firm: "You young ones can try to break through. I'll hold the enemy off here."

No one left.

A tear flashed in Zhu Chi's eyes, but his resolve hardened: "Alright, then let's show the Japanese devils how Chinese soldiers fight to the very end!"

He ordered his soldiers to gather the remaining explosives and bury them beneath the ruins of the fort. Then, holding the detonator, he waited quietly for the final moment to arrive.

The Japanese army launched a final assault.

This time, they encountered little resistance and quickly reached the summit.

When they saw Zhu Chi sitting under the pine tree, they slowed their pace and cautiously surrounded him.

A Japanese colonel leading the group shouted in broken Chinese, "General, the battle is over. Please lay down your weapons!"

Zhu Chi raised his head, his gaze sweeping over the Japanese soldiers like lightning, and a slight smile appeared on his lips.

He slowly raised the detonator in his hand, and with his last breath shouted:

Long live China!

Boom!

The huge explosion shook the entire Yuhuatai area.

The Japanese soldiers who rushed to the top of the mountain perished together with the last few brave warriors of the defending army.

Hearing the loud noise, the garrison troops inside Nanjing City looked towards Yuhuatai and saw a plume of thick smoke slowly rising.

. . . . . .

Shuixi Gate.

The water of the Qinhuai River outside the city gate shimmered with an unnatural dark red hue.

Wang Yaowu, commander of the 51st Division, stood on the Shuixi Gate tower, his binoculars revealing the Japanese 18th Division surging in like a tide.

They had been fighting fiercely outside the city for three days and three nights, and the city walls had been breached by artillery fire in many places. The defending troops had suffered more than half casualties.

"Commander, another breach has been blasted open on the right side of the west gate. The 301st Regiment can't hold out any longer!" The messenger, covered in dust, ran in to report.

Wang Yaowu clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white. He looked at the densely packed Japanese troops and tanks outside the city, then at the panicked refugees inside. A difficult decision took shape in his mind.

"Has Xu Peng from the engineering battalion arrived yet?" Wang Yaowu asked.

"We've arrived. We're awaiting orders at the command post."