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

"Da da da da da..."

The anti-aircraft machine gun company did not hesitate at all.

Sixteen German-made MG34 general-purpose machine guns, originally intended for air defense, were now lowered at this moment, their dark red tracer rounds weaving an impenetrable net of fire across the black river surface like the scythe of death.

The MG34's terrifying rate of fire of up to 900 rounds per minute made the gunshot sound like the piercing whistling of thick canvas being torn apart. This was the "fabric ripper" that the Germans were so proud of.

At this distance, a 7.92mm heavy machine gun bullet hitting a person doesn't just leave a small hole; it tears the person to shreds.

The Japanese sailors who had been crying out for help and waving white flags on the sea fell down in droves, like wheat being harvested.

Those arms waving white flags were brutally broken; those bodies desperately paddling were riddled with bullets; those survivors who had just narrowly escaped the whirlpool of the sunken Izumo didn't even have time to scream before their heads exploded like smashed watermelons.

blood.

Thick, dark red blood.

It slowly seeped up from the depths of the river, turning the area where the Izumo sank into a shockingly dark and disturbing sight.

The air was filled not only with the pungent smell of gunpowder, but also with a strong, nauseating stench of blood.

"Young Marshal."

Hu Qiankuan held up his binoculars, his voice trembling slightly. He had been a soldier for so many years and considered himself an old soldier who had seen many dead people, but at this moment, watching the one-sided massacre on the river, his stomach still churned.

"It's over... there's no movement on the sea."

Chen Zijun walked to the observation window and took a deep breath of the night wind, which smelled of blood.

"I've memorized them all."

He turned his head and looked at the faces in the command post, all of them utterly shocked. His voice was as cold as ice.

"This is the rule of the Chen family army. Anyone who invades our land, no matter how many tons of ships they sail, no matter what kind of skin they wear, and no matter whether they surrender or not, will only face death."

He dusted off non-existent dust from the collar of his military uniform.

"The Qing Dynasty has been gone for more than a decade, and these foreigners still think we are spineless cowards who can only kowtow on the ground. This play today is not only for the martyrs in the afterlife, but also for those foreign gentlemen who are still hiding in the concessions and think they are high and mighty."

Chen Zijun sneered, "Kill the master to sacrifice the flag. Let's see who dares to lay a finger on me in Shanghai from now on!"

"My rules will be the rules of Shanghai from now on!"

Chen Zijun guessed correctly.

There were indeed many "audience members" watching this scene.

The rooftop terrace of the British Consulate General in Shanghai, the tallest building on the Bund in the International Settlement.

The river wind was still biting at five in the morning, but Baldon, the British Consul General standing on the terrace, felt his clothes were soaked with cold sweat.

When the first cannon shot, which sounded like muffled thunder, came from the direction of Wusongkou, he, along with the French consul, William Weilde, and several other high-ranking foreign officials from the Shanghai Municipal Council, stared intently at the river with high-powered binoculars.

At first, when the massive silhouette of the Izumo, resembling a sea fortress, appeared on the edge of their field of vision, these foreign gentlemen wore a hint of arrogance, as if they were watching a good show.

In their eyes, it would be best if Japan and China could both suffer heavy losses. Japan had an advantage in equipment, but China had an advantage in human lives. As long as they were willing to sacrifice lives, they could drag the Izumo or the Japanese into a war of attrition and achieve mutual destruction.

This is the result they wanted to see.

In their deeply ingrained belief, no matter how capable the warlords of East Asia were, they were only fit to shoot each other with rifles in the mud. Facing the Japanese Empire's regular heavy cruisers with a displacement of nearly 10,000 tons and armor thickness of six inches, even if Chen Zijun threw his entire family onto them, it would be like throwing an egg against a rock.

They had even poured red wine, ready to watch how Chen's army would be blasted into dust by the Japanese cannons in the early hours of the morning.

But the next ten minutes completely overturned their lofty worldview.

A torpedo attack caused the giant ship to veer off course.

Then came the terrifying barrage of firepower, as if the end of the world had arrived.

That was a 280mm Krupp fortress gun!

How could they possibly have that?

When Baldon saw through the telescope that the huge fireball broke through the defense line and completely blew the Izumo's No. 2 turret into the air, the wine glass in his hand fell to the ground with a "crack" and shattered.

Immediately following was an impenetrable barrage of 88mm cannon fire.

They watched helplessly as this once mighty sea monster, which had dominated East Asia, was torn apart and broken like a paper toy, finally sinking into the icy river in despair, billowing smoke all over its body.

"My God..."

French Consul Wilhelm's hand, gripping the binoculars, trembled violently as if he were having a seizure. His face was ashen. "That was a 10,000-ton armored cruiser... just like that... just gone?"

"They weren't gone. They were unilaterally slaughtered."

Barton took a deep breath, trying to hide the tremor in his voice, "Did you see those tongues of fire that just spewed from the Wusong Port? That wasn't some scrap metal. It was a monster the Germans made, a real monster designed to shred steel!"

"Mr. Wei Lide, what exactly have you sold to China?"

The terrace was deathly silent.

Only the sound of the river wind whistling past could be heard.

Everyone knew perfectly well what Baldun's words meant.

Whether the French sold it or not, it probably shows that in the future, Britain will no longer be able to control everything in China, or rather, in Shanghai.

Before this, the reason they could barely maintain their arrogant and superior attitude in the concession was because they were convinced that Chen Zijun was a country bumpkin who only knew how to fight on land, and that as long as their British battleships sailed into the Huangpu River, Chen Zijun would have to kneel down and raise the white flag.

But now?

Even a heavy cruiser of the Izumo class was opened like a can by cannons mounted on the shore. Even if they brought all their dilapidated ships from the Far East, they would only be enough to fill the gaps in the enemy's teeth!

After all, they wouldn't dare risk sending a few battleships to be sunk.

Those few 533mm torpedo boats are something even the battleships of the British Empire are afraid of!

"A madman. This Chen Zijun is absolutely a complete madman!"

A director of the Municipal Council wiped the cold sweat from his brow and muttered with lingering fear, "He actually opened fire on those Japanese sailors who had already surrendered in the water! He completely disregarded the Geneva Convention! How dare he do such a thing?"

"Why don't you go and talk to him about the Geneva Conventions now?"

Barton turned and looked at the director like he was an idiot. "You believe it or not, if you dare go, he can hang your head on a lamppost on the Bund tomorrow!"

"Furthermore, when have the Japanese ever abided by the Geneva Conventions when they fought wars? They weren't even a signatory to the Geneva Conventions!"

Baldun now felt incredibly fortunate.

The day before the massacre, he was so terrified by the firepower Chen Zijun displayed in Jiangyin that he went to Chen Zijun and sold the Jiangnan Shipyard, along with four torpedo boats, to him for a paltry £500,000.

These four torpedo boats were the biggest force that forced the Izumo to change course and send it to its doom.

But Barton felt no guilt whatsoever; on the contrary, he considered it the best political investment he had ever made.

He's already "creating good karma" in advance!

"Send a telegram immediately. Use the highest-level red urgent coded telegram, directly to Prime Minister Chamberlain in London!"

Barton turned to his confidential secretary and roared, "Tell His Excellency the Prime Minister that the British Empire's strategy toward China in the Far East must be completely overhauled immediately! Abandon those arrogant prejudices! From today onward, on this eastern continent, at least in the Jiangsu, Zhejiang, and Shanghai area, we must treat this young warlord surnamed Chen as an equal, destructive national leader!"

He swallowed hard, his voice filled with undisguised awe: "If you push him too far, the British Empire's warships could be the next Izumo!"

Seven o'clock in the morning.

The sky finally brightened.

The news of the sinking of the Izumo spread like wildfire, reaching the Ministry of the Navy in Tokyo, the capitals of major powers around the world, and even the warlord camps in inland China at an alarming speed, via undersea cables and radio waves.

Outside Wusongkou No. 1 Fortress.

Chen Zijun had just come out of the underground command post, rubbing his temples with a slightly tired expression.

A black Ford military jeep screeched to a halt in front of him, its tires leaving two deep gashes in the muddy ground.

The car door was pushed open.

Wearing a smart black trench coat, Mo Lanzhi clutched a red-headed encrypted telegram tightly in her hand. Her face was more solemn than ever before. She strode directly to Chen Zijun.

"Young Marshal!"

Moranzhi's voice was rapid and urgent, "The intelligence department just intercepted a top-secret red telegram! It's... from the north!"

Chen Zijun narrowed his eyes.

"The Fengtian clique?"

"right!"

Mo Lanzhi handed over the telegram, took a deep breath, seemingly to calm her wildly beating heart, "That playboy Zhang Jialiang..."

"The Zhili-Fengtian War had just been won, and the main force of the Zhili clique had been completely annihilated. He didn't even enter Beiping before turning his guns on them!"

"Using 'suppressing rebellion' as a pretext, he completely disregarded the fate of the Izumo and personally led the Fengtian clique's most elite 100,000-strong Ever Victorious Army, equipped with a large amount of heavy firepower, and even including White Russian mercenaries, all of whom have crossed the provincial border!"

Mo Lanzhi raised her head, her usually calm eyes now filled with horror: "Young Marshal. While we were locked in a fierce battle with the Japanese... he brought an army of 100,000 to raid our territory!"

The river wind howled, whipping up the hem of Chen Zijun's military uniform.

The scrap metal of the Japanese ship on the sea was still emitting black smoke.

Meanwhile, a warlord meat grinder that would truly determine China's fate was already pouncing fiercely from Chen Zijun's rear, with 100,000 vicious wolves at its back.