Republic of China: German-equipped divisions massacred as warlords guarded the nation's borders

Wusongkou, 4 a.m.

Chen Zijun's military vehicle bumped along the muddy tidal flat road for forty minutes before finally stopping at the entrance to the underground command post of Fort No. 1.

He stepped into the mud, and the cold wind carrying the salty smell of the sea hit him in the face.

The sea in the distance was dark and gloomy, and nothing could be seen. But he knew that the giant beast was there.

Because every thirty seconds, the entire earth shakes violently.

boom!!!

Another one.

The impact point was on the mudflats about two kilometers northeast of the fortress complex. Mud and gravel were blasted into the air and crashed onto the concrete roof of the fortress with a crackling sound.

Shen Li followed behind, his face pale.

"Young Marshal, this is the seventh salvo. Each time it fires four rounds, all 203mm high-explosive shells."

"How many shots have you fired?"

Chen Zijun didn't even look up, and strode towards the underground command post.

"Twenty-eight shots. All landed within a range of 1,500 to 2,000 meters outside the fortress complex."

Shen Li's voice was a little tense. "It did it on purpose. Firing close but not far is telling us—it can move its cannon forward at any time."

Chen Zijun pushed open the heavy iron gate.

The underground command post was brightly lit. A dozen staff officers were gathered around a huge nautical chart. Some were marking impact points, some were calculating firing parameters, and some were answering the phone. The same word was written on everyone's face—tense.

Yang Yanzhao was the first to greet him. This artillery officer, who had sunk two frigates in Jiangyin with a direct hit from an 88mm gun, now had a deep frown on his face.

"Young Marshal!"

His voice was low. "The Izumo is currently located about 18,000 to 20,000 meters northeast of our fortifications. According to reports from the observation posts, it is escorted by at least six destroyers and four torpedo boats, deployed in a fan shape."

"18,000 to 20,000 meters?"

Chen Zijun walked to the nautical chart and pointed to the location marked with a red circle.

"Yes."

Yang Yanzhao gritted his teeth. "Our 280mm coastal artillery has a maximum range of 22,000 meters. But—its effective range is only 16,000 to 18,000 meters. Its current position is right on the edge of being within our reach but not accurate enough to hit it."

"The German coastal defense guns we got are still inferior to the British ones. If we had the British 381mm or 356mm fortified coastal defense guns, that would be great!"

"The Izumo's 203mm main gun has an effective range of 20,000 meters." Yang Yanzhao clenched his fist. "Young Marshal, it's deliberately keeping itself at that distance. It can hit us, but we can't hit it."

There was a three-second silence in the command post.

Then there was another violent tremor. The light bulb overhead swayed twice. Someone spilled tea from their cup.

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

Four shots were fired simultaneously. This round was at least 200 meters closer than the last.

"Report!" A communications officer rushed out from the adjacent telegraph room. "Intercepted a plaintext telegram from the Japanese fleet!"

He was holding a telegram in his hand, the corners of which were soaked with sweat.

Chen Zijun gestured for him to read it aloud.

The correspondent swallowed hard and began to read:

"Sender: Izumo, flagship of the Third Fleet of the Imperial Japanese Navy. Recipient: Garrison at Wusongkou, China. Content—"

He paused for a moment.

"...Chinese garrison, heed my command. Captain Nanyo Shiro, captain of the Imperial Japanese Navy's Izumo, issues you this ultimatum. Your act of sinking the Tenryu constitutes a serious provocation against the Empire of Japan. You are hereby ordered to dismantle all coastal fortifications, surrender all personnel, and unconditionally surrender to the Imperial Navy by noon tomorrow. Failure to comply will result in the Izumo using all its firepower to reduce your fortress, port, and even the entire city of Shanghai to ashes. This is not a threat, but a promise from the Imperial Navy. Your cannons cannot reach me, but my shells are already raining down on your heads. Kneel down. This is your only way to survive."

The correspondent finished reading.

The command post was completely silent.

The faces of more than a dozen officers turned bright red. Some slammed their fists on the table. Some gritted their teeth in hatred. Even the young staff officer's hands trembled.

Yang Yanzhao was the first to explode.

"Damn it! These Japanese dwarfs! I... Young Marshal, let me fire! I refuse to believe the 280mm can't sink it!"

"calm."

Chen Zijun's voice wasn't loud, but the entire command post fell silent instantly.

He walked to the nautical chart, placed his hands on the edge of the table, and looked down at the densely packed markings.

20,000 meters.

The 280mm shore guns could hit it, but they couldn't hit it accurately. Even if they fired, the hit rate against a moving warship from a fixed fortress wouldn't exceed five percent. And once their firing positions were exposed, the Izumo only needed to slightly adjust the angle of its guns to accurately return the attack.

That Japanese man named Nanyo Shiro wasn't a fool. He parked the Izumo at that distance, calculating that the Chen family army couldn't reach him.

But what he didn't know was—

Chen Zijun raised his head.

He looked at the nautical chart Moranzhi had brought back on the table. It was a battle position chart of the Izumo's escort formation. Left flank. Extremely shallow water. A 600-meter blind spot for defense.

"Uncle Yang..."

"exist!"

"You are not allowed to fire either of your 88mm or 280mm guns."

Yang Yanzhao's eyes widened. "Young Marshal! Not firing? Then we—"

"I told you."

Chen Zijun looked at him. "No firing! Anyone who dares to fire without authorization will be court-martialed!"

Yang Yanzhao's lips trembled slightly, but he ultimately swallowed the words that were on the tip of his tongue. "Yes!"

Shen Li leaned closer and whispered, "Young Marshal, if we don't fight, that Japanese guy outside will become completely arrogant. Besides, this telegram in plain text will be received by radio stations all over Shanghai. Foreigners in the concessions, reporters in newspapers—the whole world will know that the Japanese are taking a dump at our doorstep, and we won't even make a sound."

"Let him be arrogant."

Chen Zijun straightened up and walked to another map hanging on the wall.

It was a hydrological map marking the isobaths near the Wusongkou estuary. Shallow water areas were marked in blue, and deep water areas in black.

"You're right. The whole world is watching."

His finger traced an arc on the map. "But the world only remembers the winners."

He turned to look at Shen Li.

"Is Mo Huixin ready?"

"Report complete." Shen Li pulled out a telegram. "Miss Mo replied: Four million pounds have all arrived, and the inventory is sufficient. Ask the young marshal what he wants to buy."

Chen Zijun remained silent.

He walked to the nautical chart, picked up a red pen, and drew a large red cross on the blind spot marked "very shallow water" on the left flank of the Izumo's escort formation.

Then he wrote a line of text next to the red cross.

"Torpedoes. Twenty-four in total."

Shen Li was taken aback. "Young Marshal, you mean—"

"Who says you can only use cannons to attack warships?"

Chen Zijun threw the pen on the table.

At the same moment. On the bridge of the Izumo.

Colonel Nanyo Shiro stood in front of the observation window of the armored ship's bridge, holding a cup of sake in his hand.

He wore a crisp white naval uniform, the gold epaulets gleaming under the lights. A medal commemorating the fallen soldiers of the Tianlong hung on his chest.

On the deck outside the bridge, the four twin-mounted 203mm main guns had just completed another salvo. White smoke was still billowing from the gun barrels. The strong smell of gunpowder drifted in through the ventilation vents.

"captain."

The first mate approached. "Eighth salvo complete. Impact observation: all hit the designated area. The Chinese fortress offered no retaliation."

"Of course we won't retaliate."

Nanyo Shiro took a sip of sake. "Their shore artillery can't hit us. This distance was carefully chosen by me."

He put down his wine glass and walked to the chart table.

The nautical chart marked the positions of the Izumo and its escort fleet. Six Minekaze-class destroyers were positioned on the left and right flanks, while four torpedo boats patrolled the perimeter. The Izumo stood in the center, like an armored monarch surrounded by stars.

"I will avenge the Tianlong with my own hands."

His voice was icy. "These Chinese think they can stop the Imperial Navy with a few broken cannons? Ridiculous."

"Captain." Another staff officer approached. "The plaintext telegram has been sent. According to intercepted communications, radio stations in Shanghai from various countries have received it."

"Alright." Nanyo Shiro smiled slightly. "Let the whole world know. The Imperial Navy has arrived."

He turned and walked back to the observation window, looking at the dark coastline in the distance.

In his imagination, the Chinese garrison in those fortresses must be trembling with fear at this moment.

What he didn't know was—

Right beneath his feet, on the edge of the area marked "very shallow water" to the left of the Izumo's massive body, four long, narrow black shadows floated silently on the river, gliding forward without a sound.

Those were four torpedo boats.

The four ships that the British sold to Chen Zijun.

Each ship carries six 533mm torpedoes.

Twenty-four torpedoes.

In absolute darkness.

It slowly approached the soft belly of the Izumo.

Nanyo Shiro raised his wine glass, smiled at the night view outside the bridge.

Of course he didn't know.

The drink he was taking was his last glass of wine.