Industry began in 1937

"A fishplate for a bayonet, a rail for a box of grenades!"

This slogan, which was somewhat joking yet truly inspiring, swept through the Eighth Route Army units in the Taihang Mountains like a gust of wind, especially those active along the Zhengtai and Tongpu Railways.

It transformed the abstract strategic task of "sabotaging enemy transportation" into tangible rewards, greatly motivating the soldiers and the militia and civilians involved in the road sabotage.

In the early spring of 1938, although the Japanese army had occupied the main railway lines in North China, their rule was far from secure.

Along the railway line, the bunkers and pillboxes were not yet as densely packed as they would later become, and the patrol teams were not invincible.

At this time, the Japanese army was absolutely insufficient in number, while the number and organization of the puppet troops had not kept up, not to mention that most of the local puppet organizations had not yet been established.

This meant that the Japanese had limited control over the railway lines.

The vast fields, rolling hills, and mountains provide natural barriers for the covert movement of small units.

In the past, when the Eighth Route Army raided railways, they often used explosives to destroy a section of the railway, or loosened the bolts and pulled out the spikes to derail the train.

Now, the goal has changed—we want iron, we want steel, we want to dismantle as much as possible and take it back!

The night was deep, on a section of the Zhengtai Railway east of Shouyang.

A raiding team consisting of a squad from a unit of the 386th Brigade and a dozen militiamen stealthily approached the roadbed.

They carried extended crowbars and specially made large wrenches, their eyes fixed intently on the cold railway tracks beneath their feet.

"Move quickly! Watch out for the lights of the watchtowers in the distance on both sides!" the squad leader ordered in a low voice.

The soldiers and militiamen skillfully pounced on their target.

The wrench gripped the bolt, and the hammer, wrapped in cloth, struck, producing a dull "clattering" sound that was particularly clear in the quiet night.

Soon, the fishplates and spikes at both ends of a section of track were removed.

"One, two, three—Go!"

Eight men inserted crowbars into the bottom of the rails and pulled together. The heavy rails groaned as they were slowly pried away from the sleepers.

The narrow-gauge railway in Shanxi has smaller rails, each weighing about 15 kilograms. A standard 10-meter-long rail section weighs about 150 kilograms.

This weight is not strenuous for eight soldiers and militiamen who have been engaged in physical labor for many years.

"Let's go!" the squad leader shouted in a low voice.

The eight men split into four groups, carrying wooden beams on their shoulders. A heavy section of rail was tied to the middle of the beams with ropes. With heavy steps, they quickly left the roadbed and disappeared into the darkness beside them.

For them, the cold, heavy thing on their shoulders was not a burden, but a box of grenades that could kill Japanese devils and protect their homeland!

No matter how heavy it is, we have to carry it back!

Other iron materials were also packed into the soldiers' backpacks.

However, carrying a ten-meter-long iron rod through the mountains at night was far more difficult than imagined.

The road was rugged and overgrown with shrubs, and the rails kept bumping and obstructing the way, making it impossible to go fast.

Even more critically, their actions were quickly discovered by Japanese troops patrolling the railway from nearby pillboxes.

A sharp whistle rang out, and the beams of searchlight began to sweep wildly. A barrage of gunfire erupted behind them, bullets whistling as they struck the surrounding earth and rocks.

"Quick! Get into the mountains!" the squad leader shouted urgently.

The team made every effort to move towards the nearest ravine. The pursuers behind them were getting closer and closer, and the heavy rails were severely slowing them down.

But soon the Japanese soldiers caught up with them.

The railway tracks are just too inconvenient.

"Squad leader! The Japanese are catching up! We can't run fast with this!" a soldier shouted, panting heavily, his shoulder already chafed by the wooden bar.

The squad leader looked at the approaching Japanese soldiers and puppet troops behind him, then at the steel on his soldiers' shoulders—symbols of grenades and bayonets—and his heart ached. Give up?

no way!

The troops were extremely short of grenades. If he had a box of grenades, he could have a good fight with the Japanese soldiers behind him.

"Don't lose them! Even if you have to crawl, crawl back! Spread out! Go into the woods! Use the terrain!" the squad leader ordered, his eyes red.

The soldiers mustered a fierce determination, carrying the rails, and scrambled into a relatively dense forest.

Using the darkness and complex terrain as cover, they finally managed to shake off their pursuers temporarily, but everyone was exhausted and their shoulders were starting to chafe.

Looking at the long railway tracks that were impossible to move quickly on the narrow mountain road, the squad leader knew that this wouldn't work.

As dawn approaches, the Japanese will likely begin their search of the mountains.

"Find a place to hide this thing! Mark the location, and we'll figure out a way to transport it later!" he finally ordered helplessly.

With great reluctance, the soldiers carefully hid the "box of grenades" in a secluded crevice, marked it, and then quickly moved on.

This experience was quickly reported back.

The rails were good, but they were too long to be moved quickly in the event of an enemy attack.

Soon, a new method was discovered: on the edge of the guerrilla zone near the railway, find reliable blacksmith shops or secret locations with simple furnaces.

The dismantled long rails were first transported to the nearest place, where the middle of the rails was heated red-hot with a coal stove or charcoal fire. Then, they were forcibly broken or split into two or three sections with a sledgehammer and chisel, each weighing no more than thirty or forty kilograms. It was then much easier to transport them by mules or horses or by manpower.

When Chen Yuan heard from Wen Shizhou about the hardships the soldiers had endured to move the rails and their crude method of "burning" the rails, he was moved by the soldiers' perseverance but also felt sorry for the waste of materials and inefficiency caused by that crude method.

"If only there were a faster way, we could cut the rails into sections on the spot," Wen Shizhou lamented. "Burning them is too time-consuming and wasteful of fuel, and it's easy to ruin the good materials."

A thought struck Chen Yuan. A faster way?

On-site cutting?

He thought of a hacksaw.

The difficulties at the front lines became the driving force for Chen Yuan's research and development. He asked the Suihuo platform to analyze what kind of hacksaw could quickly cut through the rails.

Samples of heavy-duty hacksaw bows and matching hacksaw blades that have undergone special heat treatment, resulting in extremely high hardness and wear resistance, were manufactured.

These saw bows are robust and can withstand great tensile forces; the saw blades are optimized for cutting steel in terms of tooth shape and material.

Chen Yuan experimented in the blacksmith's shop and found that in just half an hour, with four people taking turns and the hacksaw never stopping, they were able to cut the rails.

This timing is still acceptable.

Sometimes you can do this right there on the railway.

The first batch of 20 hacksaw bows and hundreds of saw blades were urgently sent to the sabotage units along the railway line.

Along with the saw came simple instructions: it requires two people, one to hold the saw bow steady and the other to pull and push; it is best to drip some water or oil on the cut to cool it down when sawing.

The effect is immediate.

The soldiers carried this new tool during the next raid.

After removing the rails, two people worked together, set up hacksaws, aimed at the pre-measured positions, and began sawing with a "sizzle-sizzle" sound.

Although it is still laborious, it is more than twice as fast as heating the material red-hot and then smashing it. Moreover, the cuts are neat, the material is not damaged, and the noise is relatively controllable.

A ten-meter-long rail was quickly cut into two or three shorter pieces that were easier to move.

The mode of destruction was thus upgraded.

In the past, rails were pried off and laboriously transported or burned on the spot; now they are pried off, sawed off on the spot, and easily transported away.

Efficiency is greatly increased and risk is reduced.

Wherever the hacksaw went, it wasn't just the railway tracks; many soldiers and civilians also used steel beams, machine parts... Any steel that could be moved or cut off and taken away was destined to be "disassembled".

For a time, the Japanese garrison along the Zhengtai and Tongpu railways were horrified to discover that the destruction was no longer just explosions and bending, but had turned into precise "surgical" dismantling.

The railway tracks disappeared in sections, the drive shafts of the water pumps were cut off at the root, the main shafts of the railway locomotives and important metal parts of the signal lights vanished, and even the temporary storage yards for spare materials were destroyed. The heavy rails were cut into small sections and then moved away.

This made the repair work extremely difficult because even replacement parts could not be found.

Many pieces of equipment can only be scrapped.

More importantly, there's a sufficient quantity.

The saw blades that the troops received were no longer a few precious pieces, but were supplied in bundles.

The raiders' mentality also changed: from "using it carefully and sparingly" to "using it as much as possible, replacing it when it breaks!" They sawed rails, steel beams, machine parts... Wherever the hacksaw went, nothing was left unscathed.

The mode of destruction has been completely upgraded.

On the Zhengtai Railway and the southern section of the Tongpu Railway, a strange phenomenon began to appear that drove the Japanese railway garrison and logistics departments crazy: the frequency of railway interruptions was increasing, but many of the interruptions were not caused by explosions, but by the "disappearance" of the rails.

During repairs, it is often difficult to find a replacement spare rail or a critical connecting component.

Some important pieces of machinery have become completely unusable due to the lack of core steel components, making repairs extremely difficult.

Taiyuan, the headquarters of the First Army of the Japanese North China Area Army.

Commander Lieutenant General Kiyoshi Katsuki angrily slammed damage reports onto the table. "Damn it! More missing rails! Water pump shafts sawed off! Train locomotives damaged! Signal parts stolen! What kind of behavior is this?! When did the Eighth Route Army become scavengers?! Weren't they supposed to be sabotaging the railway? Why are they stealing now?!"

The staff officers remained silent, terrified.

A summary report shows that in February alone, the number of transport disruptions caused by theft and sawing of rails and components on the Zhengtai and Tongpu railway lines increased by 300% compared to the previous month! The direct material losses were huge, and more seriously, the transport efficiency was greatly reduced, and planned military mobilizations and material supplies were frequently delayed.

This was extremely disadvantageous for the Japanese army's prepared operations.

In the southern Shanxi region, the Japanese 20th, 108th, and 109th Divisions prepared to advance south along the Tongpu Railway to capture Linfen, attempting to force Chinese troops to the banks of the Yellow River.

The Japanese 109th Division and other units in western Shanxi were preparing to advance westward along the Fenli Highway, attempting to threaten the Yellow River crossing and spy on the Shaanxi-Gansu-Ningxia Border Region.

These actions were all affected.

"Investigate! Investigate thoroughly!" Kiyoshi Katsuki roared. "Strengthen patrols along the railway line! Deploy more garrisons! Organize rapid reaction forces! Implement a system of collective responsibility and mutual accountability in the villages along the line. Anyone found supplying the enemy or hiding railway materials should be executed without exception! Also, strengthen the protection of the equipment used for railway repairs! We absolutely cannot let these 'iron rats' succeed again!"

Orders were issued one after another.

The Japanese patrols along the railway increased in frequency and scope, and their surveillance and raids on nearby villages became increasingly stringent.

However, the Taihang Mountains stretch endlessly, and the crop season is approaching. The Eighth Route Army's raiding forces dispersed into smaller groups, appearing and disappearing unpredictably.

Sometimes they would launch strong attacks on weak strongholds, sometimes they would outwit patrol squads, and more often, under the cover of deep night, they would work like diligent worker ants, using hacksaws and crowbars to slowly and continuously "devour" the Japanese army's transportation lifeline.

Sabotage and counter-sabotage, theft and encirclement—on both sides of this steel artery, an even fiercer and more bizarre contest unfolded.

Meanwhile, the fire in the stove behind Gouzi Village, driven by the stream and the wind, burned ever brighter, continuously forging the "gifts" from the railway into more bayonets, grenades, landmines, and more sharp and tough steel saw blades.