Spy Wars: I am the Captain of the Military Police

"Wet blankets! Quickly!" Huang Baoguo, commander of the 87th Division of the defending army, personally directed the anti-poisoning operation.

Thanks to a simple method they had learned from the citizens of Nanjing before the war, the soldiers quickly soaked the prepared cotton quilts and covered the firing ports and battlements, while covering their mouths and noses with wet towels.

These rudimentary protective measures actually worked.

The toxic fumes were filtered by the damp cotton blankets, greatly reducing the casualties of the defending troops.

Even more remarkably, a few clever soldiers collected mirrors from all over the city and used the afterglow of the setting sun to shine the reflected light directly onto the Japanese positions, briefly disrupting the enemy's offensive rhythm.

However, the Japanese tanks still managed to get up there.

These steel behemoths roared as they charged toward the city gate, the defenders' rifle bullets falling like mosquitoes to them.

"Sappers, prepare for fire attack!" Under Commander Huang's order, barrels of gasoline were carried up to the city wall.

The Japanese tanks were getting closer and closer, and the drivers' faces were even visible.

As the first tank crashed through the ruins of the city gate, Commander Huang roared, "Down!"

Barrels of gasoline poured down from the city gate, instantly soaking the tanks and the infantry following behind.

Immediately afterwards, a torch traced an arc and landed on the gasoline.

With a loud "boom," a wall of fire rose up instantly, engulfing the tanks and soldiers at the forefront.

The Japanese soldiers screamed and struggled in the flames. The tank ammunition was detonated by the high temperature, and the chain of explosions forced the follow-up troops to suspend their attack.

However, this victory was short-lived.

The flames not only engulfed the enemy but also scorched the Ming Dynasty city walls built 600 years ago.

The high temperature melted the glutinous rice mortar between the city bricks. This unique ancient Chinese building technique, which had kept the Nanjing city wall strong for hundreds of years, was now softened by the gunfire and flames of modern warfare.

"The city wall is about to collapse!" someone exclaimed.

A section of the city wall, nearly ten meters long, began to tilt, and bricks and stones crumbled and slid down in the flames.

Commander Huang looked at all this with tears in his eyes.

They lit the fire to repel the enemy, but it also hastened the destruction of the city walls.

War is cruel; sometimes destruction must come before protection.

While the fierce battle raged at Guanghua Gate and Tongji Gate, a more covert and deadly breakthrough was taking place.

Inoue Yusaku, the commander of the 36th Regiment of the Japanese Army, was an expert on China and had conducted in-depth research on the history and architecture of Nanjing before the war.

He knew that the drainage system built during the Ming Dynasty was extensive, and some culverts were large enough for a single person to pass through.

"Found it!" an engineer reported excitedly. Under the cover of artillery fire, they finally found a Ming Dynasty drainage culvert at the junction of the city wall and the mountain. Although it was partially blocked, it was large enough for the small soldier to crawl through after clearing.

"Matsumoto squad, assault!" Inoue ordered.

More than ten lean Japanese engineers took off their heavy coats, carrying only short knives and pistols, and crawled into the dark culvert one by one.

They crawled through the filth like rats, hoping to sneak into the city through this hidden path and coordinate an attack from the inside.

However, their actions did not completely escape the notice of the garrison. Old Yang, the cook of the 36th Division, vaguely heard strange noises coming from underground while fetching water.

He pressed his ear to the ground, and his expression changed drastically.

"The Japanese devils have gone into the sewers!" Old Yang ran back to the position to report.

The division commander immediately ordered the cooks to handle the crisis.

Thus, an unusual battle unfolded at the entrance of the drainage culvert.

"Heat the oil! Quickly!" Old Yang ordered the cooks to boil the cooking oil that was originally used for cooking, and then pour it into the hole.

Screams immediately erupted from inside the cave, continuous and extremely shrill.

Where the boiling oil flowed, even the sewage boiled. The Japanese soldiers who had infiltrated had nowhere to hide in the narrow space and were scalded to death.

The screams were almost constant throughout the night.

Whenever the Japanese troops tried to sneak in through the culvert, the defenders would treat them with boiling oil, hot water, or even ignited kerosene.

The drainage system became a death trap, where countless Japanese soldiers perished.

However, the defenders underestimated the Japanese army's determination and the complexity of the culvert.

In the early hours of the morning, a small Japanese platoon successfully infiltrated the city via an undetected side route.

They quickly occupied the high ground of the clock tower and established machine gun positions.

As the first rays of dawn illuminated Nanjing, the Rising Sun flag was already flying atop the Bell Tower.

Japanese machine guns swept across the city from high ground, causing widespread panic and chaos among the defenders.

When the news reached Guanghua Gate and Tongji Gate, the defending troops realized that the situation was hopeless.

The city walls have been breached, the Japanese army has broken through from multiple directions, and the high ground has been lost. Continuing to hold out will only lead to the annihilation of the entire army and the massacre of civilians.

"Commander, give the order to retreat!" the chief of staff pleaded with Huang Baoguo, his eyes red.

Commander Huang gazed at the thick smoke rising from the city and listened to the machine gun fire coming from the direction of the clock tower, remaining silent for a long time. Finally, he uttered two words with difficulty: "Retreat."

The retreat order quickly spread to all positions, and the defending troops began to retreat into the city in an orderly manner, preparing for street fighting. The fall of the city walls was only the beginning; a more brutal battle for the city was about to unfold.

At the gap in Tongji Gate, the soldiers took away the body of Division Commander Li Jiang.

The general appeared to be asleep; he still gripped his broadsword tightly in his hand, the bloodstains on the blade dried, but its sharpness remained.

On the Guanghua Gate, Commander Huang took one last look at the fire barrier that they had lit themselves.

The glutinous rice mortar that melted under high temperature on the Ming Dynasty city bricks is slowly solidifying, like a scab forming on a wound.

This ancient city, with a history spanning thousands of years, has been reborn from ruins countless times, and he prayed that this time would be no exception.

By the time night fell again, the Nanjing city walls had largely fallen into the hands of the Japanese army.

But the battle was far from over; it had simply moved from the city walls to the streets and alleys.

Gunshots, explosions, shouts, screams—these sounds will become the norm in Nanjing in the days to come.

In a secluded alley, several Chinese soldiers helped civilians take refuge in a basement. Their faces were covered in soot and their clothes were tattered, but their eyes remained resolute.

"Sir, will Nanjing fall?" a young student asked, trembling.

The soldier gazed at the burning city outside the window and whispered, "The city may fall, but the country will not perish."

. . . . . . . . . . .

On January 8, 1938, a cold wind, carrying the smell of gunpowder and blood, permeated every corner of Nanjing.

The once prosperous and magnificent capital city has now been reduced to a massive battlefield.

The city walls were breached in many places by Japanese heavy artillery, and a tide of khaki military uniforms poured into the city. But the battle was not over. Instead, it unfolded in a more brutal and bloody way in the streets, buildings and ruins.

Xinjiekou Square, a symbol of modern commerce in Nanjing, has now been transformed into a massive defensive fortification.

A battalion under the 88th Division, under the command of Battalion Commander Sun Mingxin, used everything they could find to build a defensive position.

The tram carriages were overturned and intertwined with sandbags, bricks, and furniture debris, forming several winding barricades.

The soldiers' uniforms were tattered and stained with blood and mud, but their eyes still held a kind of resolute determination, like that of trapped beasts.