Canteen System Assistance Notes

"clear."

"Keep breathing, Kestrel 02, don't be nervous. We will definitely catch that little Japanese reconnaissance plane today."

"Understood. Keep breathing, breathing regularly... Huh... Huh..." The 2800-hp engine of the TK-3 long-range fighter was revving furiously, converting engine power into altitude potential energy through its massive four-bladed propeller. As the altitude climbed, even with the warm air from the engine blowing, everyone still felt a chill that gave them goosebumps.

The oxygen cylinder hissed, and the "Shrike" representing the rear mobile radar station was regularly reporting the "No. 1 Warning Radar" and "No. 3 Detection Radar".

High radar" data. An Tianjiang, the first generation pilot of the Eighth Route Army, the current "Air Combat Ace" and "Zero Kill Record" badge holder, the "Offensive Air Defense" air control hunting team captain, looked out from the bubble cockpit

The mountains on the northern edge of the Taihang Mountains look like a giant yellow-brown dragon, lurking on the mist-shrouded North China Plain.

Under the quiet and somewhat blurry sky, above the earth, he saw a small black dot.

"Liu... No, Kestrel 02 reporting in! 11 o'clock, approximately... 6000 meters! I've found the target!"

The young pilot, codenamed Red Falcon 02, announced loudly on the radio, "Twin-engine reconnaissance plane, plaster flag! Heading...towards Peking! Probably on the way back!"

"Each aircraft, report your fuel levels...Okay! We have all the internal fuel, right?"

An Tianjiang glanced at the gun counter in the cabin and decisively issued an order.

"Alright! Falcon 02, follow me. Falcon O3 and O04, provide cover. Follow the instructions on the ground. Attack!"

"clear--!"

The high-altitude "K-3" long-range fighter, which is capable of flying at a maximum speed of about 70OKM/H at 6000 meters with afterburner and even needs wing blades to assist in control during the dive phase, abandoned the auxiliary fuel tank and turned the fuselage, diving towards the "One Hundred Type" reconnaissance aircraft that was still in confusion, like a red falcon rushing towards its prey.

Chapter 799: Is the destruction known in advance cruel or gentle?

"Sir, the 5th aircraft of the 15th Squadron has been shot down."

...So, so, the reconnaissance squadron in Peking can no longer operate. The reconnaissance squadron in Xuzhou still has 4 aircraft available, but..."

"But now we can't get the same aerial reconnaissance intelligence as before, right?"

"Hi."

"No need to worry," Okamura Neiji waved his hand, replying in a tone so calm it was chilling, even a little hollow. "The Communist Army's move may seem ingenious, but it's just a trick. Battlefield maneuvers are complex, but ultimately victory must be won on the ground. Iimura-kun is an expert in data and intelligence, and a master of strategy. Matsuda-kun is Princess Subaru's instructor, and has extensive experience commanding mecha units. I've also assigned our most powerful independent mecha detachment to them... There's no way the Communist Army will win easily!"

"Send a telegram now and tell them that they can make all decisions on the front lines on their own, without having to report everything—Okay, go now! The soldiers on the Imperial front are still waiting for us to make a decision and bring them victory!"

"Hey! I understand, sir!"

The messenger's face brightened visibly, and he was kissed by the commander.

Encouraged by all this, he was obviously filled with courage. He trotted out of the shed where Okamura Neiji was sitting, climbed onto the Mazda car and headed towards the headquarters.

After several days, Okamura Ningji finally returned to his fishing spot in the ditch and river, stood up, looked in the direction where the young staff officer left, and sighed imperceptibly.

He wanted to sit down again and continue fishing. But the moment he turned around, his vision was suddenly pulled away, as if by some non-existent fish.

The giant hand in front of him polluted and distorted the scene before him - the comfortable chair now seemed to be a million miles away from him, and there was a thousand miles between them.

Abyss.

He wanted to walk over, but his once nimble legs seemed to be welded to the ground and he couldn't move.

"Sir, please sit down."

Fortunately, the orderly came over and moved the chair to another position.

The distorted vision returned to normal, but Okamura Neiji's mental state was still very bad.

Although on the surface he was still the calm and composed commander, he was probably the only one who knew what was going on in his heart.

Iimura Joi is indeed an excellent data-oriented commander, one of the few Japanese officers who can calmly analyze the enemy and our own situation and find solutions; and Chief of Staff Matsuda Iwao, who grew up in the battlefield of North China and taught at Gongzhuling School, can provide excellent practical assistance to General Iimura. It can be said that this is the best combination that Okamura Yasuji could come up with - but all this cannot change the current situation of collapse on the battlefield in North China.

Since March 9th, when I decided to send the 82nd Division south to reinforce Anyang area, the front line has been retreating.

The Hebi Ji-Puyang defense line, which was supposed to be able to hold off the Communist Army for at least 10 days, was penetrated by the Communist Army's multiple assaults at the very beginning of the battle; afterwards, the Communist Army, which was attacking parallel to the defense line, crushed all Japanese troops who tried to reorganize the defense line. The Communist Army's mechanized troops, which had penetrated deep into the front line along the breached gaps, rushed around in the rear like a burning bull, and even cut off the troops' retreat to the north from Tangyin County.

This forced the 82nd and 83rd Divisions to remain in Tangyin County and hold out for reinforcements. In the end, not only were the reinforcements repelled, but the troops inside Tangyin City were also annihilated. Now, the two divisions were left with only two regiments and a small number of division-level troops, leaving them almost unable to fight again.

The remnants of the two divisions remaining in Anyang contacted the 50th Division (formerly the 1st Independent Mixed Division), which had been deployed in Handan, requesting reinforcements. However, the 50th Division discovered that Communist troops were marching and gathering in the mountainous areas west of Handan and in Nanle, Neihuang, and Qingfeng east of Anyang, seemingly preparing to encircle them on three sides. Furthermore, numerous troops infiltrated between Japanese defensive positions and reached the Zhang River line behind Anyang, severely disrupting the evacuation of wounded soldiers and the replenishment of supplies.

They believed that the troops in the east were the Communist Army's Youhui troops marching from its base, while the troops in the west might be the Communist Army's guerrilla forces used for support. However, because both aerial and ground reconnaissance were blocked, the 50th Division had no way of judging the actual strength of the Eighth Route Army on both sides and could only request reinforcements from the Seventh Army and the North China Army.

Okamura Yasuji agreed and decided to send the 28th Division of the Kwantung Army stationed in Shimen and Zhengding to the south for reinforcement; but Okamura Yasuji did not agree. He only instructed the 50th Division to strengthen the core defense fortifications in Handan and prepare to receive reinforcements from the 28th Division. At the same time, he ordered the 28th Division not to cross the Zhang River and go south to reinforce Anyang.

At the same time, requests for "tactical guidance" from the 82nd and 83rd Divisions must not be responded to.

Although fierce fighting was still raging on the periphery of Anyang, its fall was only a matter of time: Okamura Neiji was determined not to defend the place that was sure to be lost, but to keep the most critical southern outpost of Shimen and block the real main force of the Communist Army.

Even without counting the newly established 82nd and 83rd Divisions, the vast North China Army has already abandoned the 36th Division, the 32nd Division, most of the 54th Division (formerly the 5th Independent Mixed Division), and most of the 106th Division... If this continues, how far will this "abandonment" go?

Okamura Neiji felt his head hurt again.

Just the day before yesterday, Iimura Jō from Qingyuan came to see him. This brilliant young lieutenant general, with dark circles under his eyes, described a daring plan: while the battlefields along the Pinghan Railway were still experiencing an "orderly retreat" (he didn't even use the word "turnaround"), as long as the Communists still had the potential to attack from Zhangyuan and Shimen, reinforcements for the Handan front would have to be "adding fuel to the fire." However, if additional support could be obtained, a reversal of defeat might be possible.

So, where will the support come from? Iimura Jo asked himself and answered Okamura Yasuji: Let the 12th Army come to reinforce.

By March 13th, the Communist Army had conquered all areas of the Jiaodong Peninsula except Jiao'ao, surrounded Heze, and had completed its siege of Jining and Yanzhou, with troops mobilizing and making final preparations for battle. Therefore, even with the 12th Army still possessing four divisions and a technical corps directly under the headquarters, controlling the "Spring City Outposts" headed by Dezhou, Liaocheng, and Tai'an, it was already in a strategic situation of inevitable destruction.

Unless the 12th Army abandons Shandong Province and launches a full-scale breakout.

He gave Okamura Yasuji three options:

First, a northward breakout was out of the question from the outset. Aerial reconnaissance revealed that the Communists had built extensive fortifications in Cangzhou, including vast trenches (anti-Japanese trenches) and a large number of local troops. Without Tianjin being able to dispatch large numbers of troops south to support them, a northward breakout from Dezhou into Japanese-held territory was impossible. Therefore, the 12th Army could only turn east, west, and south.

To the east, the troops would need to attack along the Quancheng-Zibo railway, break through the blockade of the Shandong Eighth Route Army, storm the Jiaoao Port, and escape by sea. Iimura Joi judged that if such an operation were launched, the Shandong Communist Army would destroy all railroads along the route to continuously block and delay the enemy, forcing the main force preparing to besiege Quancheng to engage the Imperial Army midway. Ultimately, even if the Japanese army could defeat the Communists, it would lose at least three divisions and would most likely be annihilated along the way due to depletion of food and fodder.

To the south, the 12th Army must gather all its forces, seize Jining Yanzhou, break through Taijiazhuangji, and with the cooperation of the 21st Division, rush to the Xuzhou line and enter the control area of ​​the Central China Army. This seems to be a safer approach, but as soon as the 12th Army leaves Tai'an, it will have to engage in a formal battle with the main force of the Eighth Route Army in Shandong Province.

A decisive battle must be fought, and victory cannot be won at too great a cost. The Jiulishan ammunition depot in your state was destroyed, and the Central China 13th Army was not active in providing rescue.

Under such circumstances, even if the 12th Army succeeds in escaping, only one in ten will survive.

"So, sir, why not send the 12th Army westward?"

Iimura Jō stared with bloodshot eyes, pointing to "Liaocheng" on the map. He said, "Currently, Liaocheng is defended by the 59th Division (formerly the 10th Independent Mixed Division). It's densely packed and very strong, and protected by the natural barrier of Dongchang Lake. The Communists dare only besiege, not attack. If the 12th Army gathers all its forces in Liaocheng and then attacks westward, it's possible to break through the approximately 100-kilometer 'Communist base' between Liaocheng and Handan with the loss of less than 10 battalions!"

"By then, our army can also move eastward to Guantao and other areas to provide support. And if the Pinghan Line battlefield receives reinforcements from the three divisions of the 12th Army, it will not be impossible for our army to hold the line and even launch a counterattack!"

Fight back...?

I'm afraid a counterattack would be just a mirage. Putting everything else aside, what about food?

It would be fine to tell the 12th Army to hold their ground and be destroyed, but if they were given a glimmer of hope...

Okamura did not agree to Iimura Jo's plan on the spot, but simply streamlined it and sent it to the 12th Army, ordering it to be prepared for "battlefield maneuvers" and to follow orders at any time.

Forget it...regardless of whether or not we can successfully break through the Communist base, finding some hope in the current crisis actually requires a plan with a strong tendency towards gambling and self-destruction.

Okamura Neiji stared at the river, thinking with blurry eyes.

The willow trees, beginning to sprout, look like a noose demanding death. The slowly flowing river resembles the chilling Sanzu River. The low-rise buildings within the city seem to harbor an unknown and indescribable aura... Haha, is it true that one must be mad to survive? This guy Iimura is probably more like an imperial soldier than I am...

Forget it, anyway, we have tried our best to this point, so no matter what the result is, we should be able to have a clear conscience!

Okamura's hook was hooked with a lively gill fish, but in the process of repeated struggle with the fish, the unlucky fish even cut its lip and escaped from the hook, making the North China Army general shake his head. He could only hang the bait again and try again.

He picked up a worm from a small porcelain bowl beside him.

It was a fat, large, thick, and long earthworm. I didn't know whether the adjutant and staff officer "bought" it from the Japanese trading company in Sanhe County, or if they had someone dig it up in the fields themselves. Regardless, it was a truly plump earthworm, and paired with the Japanese trading company's newly arrived "Fishing King" bait, corn, and sesame oil, it was perfect for catching fish.

Okamura Neiji held the struggling earthworm in one hand and the hook dangling from the line with the other. He felt the rough texture of the earthworm's belly, grasped the middle section, and carefully threaded it onto the barbed hook.

Once, it didn't work. Twice, it didn't work.

The hooked earthworm struggled frantically, flexing its muscles back and forth in a desperate attempt to escape the aging claws. Its surface, still stained with mud and slime, and its rosy red blood, suddenly made baiting difficult.

The third time, it still didn't work.

The fourth time...hiss...

Okamura Neiji narrowed his eyes and shook his hand. A sharp pain had flashed through his hand, and he instinctively shook the earthworm off, releasing the hook and turning to examine his finger. Fortunately, the hook's sharp point hadn't penetrated too deeply, leaving only a small spot of blood—but it was that very movement that had sent the large, fat earthworm flying into the grass, where it disappeared.

"Nothing, just a prick, no need to come over."

Okamura Neiji stopped the adjutant and orderly who were about to run over. He leaned back in his chair, looking at the other earthworms still stirring in the soil of the porcelain bowl, and the empty willow branches and fishing line swaying in the wind...

This is our plan, so what will the Communist Army do?

—A sense of mysterious terror gripped him.

He breathed hard, took deep breaths, clenched his teeth with all his strength, and then he grabbed his right hand, which was shaking unconsciously.

Chapter 800 Heavy Blade (1) Xu Jin of Handan

Buzz—

The long beeping sound in my mind was like the flying pinball in a pachinko machine, or like a heavy truck with a welded throttle and a roaring engine, rushing left and right in the brain area between the two ears, making my vision blurred and my balance lost. I could only feel the chaos of the world spinning around, as if I had been thrown into a vat of paste and stirred vigorously by a big stick from nowhere.

"Cough, cough, cough, cough—Hey, Sato, Sato! Are you still alive?"

West of Handan City, near a tunnel entrance halfway up Purple Mountain, a Japanese soldier was slowly recovering from the dizziness of an explosion. He vigorously wiped away the earth and rock dust that had fallen on his head and coughed hard in the dusty air.

Ignoring the bruises from jumping and rolling, the elderly Japanese sergeant shouted loudly.

"Sato, Sato kid! kuso...""

He shivered and felt around, but all he felt was something warm, sticky and soft. Apart from the buzzing in his ears, no one seemed to respond to him.

The old sergeant didn't dare to dwell on it, simply trying to stand up, facing his gradually recovering vision and sense of balance. Slowly, the light in his eyes gradually transformed into the familiar scene in the tunnel. He shook his head, so that he could see everything around him clearly.

Oh, Sato is dead.

This was a tunnel dug into the mountain, connected to several surrounding tunnels, firing points, and pillboxes. The opening where the old sergeant and his men were was the entrance to the pillbox on the slope. However, the tunnel entrance, covered with earth and covered with brush, had been hit directly or nearly by a shell, collapsing in half. Private First Class Sato's skull, lying beneath the pile of earth and wood debris, had become a grayish-red pancake, clearly dead.

What about the others in the tunnel?

A few Japanese soldiers were still alive, and the "Imperial Army" they were assigned to had almost all fled in the past few days. A few of the conscripted "National Volunteer Corps to Prevent Communist Invasion" were still there, but most of them lay on the ground motionless.

He was probably shocked to death.

The only person still breathing was a half-grown child. However, when he was thrown from the outside of the tunnel into the pit by the explosion, he was covered in blood, his military uniform torn to shreds. He was coughing violently and retching, coughing up a horrible mixture of blue and red contents—and soon, this vomit choked him.

He began to choke his own neck with both hands, and began to tear and claw at his military uniform which had become strips. He then tore at his own chest with his blood-stained hands, as if he wanted to tear open his trachea which was physiologically protected by multiple layers, and let enough life-saving oxygen into his lungs.

Of course, this is of course futile.

The two experienced old non-commissioned officers gave up trying to save him. They exchanged glances, then glanced at the wounded soldier whose face had turned from dark red to purple. The lowest-ranking and shortest-serving soldier in the team reluctantly stepped forward and drew the bayonet from his back.

"Help him. Come back as soon as you're done with it."

The old sergeant said, "What a shame! These people could at least have consumed some of the enemy's firepower." Thinking this, he stopped watching the scene and led the gradually recovering Japanese soldiers out of the tunnel.

The Communist Army has come down the mountain. The Communist Army has finally come down the mountain.

Although it was inevitable, the old sergeant had already prepared himself mentally. But before he even saw the Communist army, his position was under overwhelming fire for a full half hour, which was really frustrating.

To make matters worse, after the artillery fire subsided, the small squad was left with only two veterans and five new recruits, apart from the old sergeant himself. Furthermore, he had just grabbed the phone and called out, but for some reason, the phone line, which was supposed to be laid in the cave inside the mountain, seemed to be broken, resulting in no one answering the call.

However, the old sergeant himself did not expect that the squad leader, who was only at the "Class A" level and had only been in the army for three months and whose hair had not yet fully grown, could give him much effective advice. As one of the very few veterans of the former 1st Independent Mixed Brigade and now the 50th Division, he preferred to trust his own judgment.

"Fujita kid, you used to be an electrician in the factory, right? Go check the telephone line and find a way to connect it.

"Xiangshan, take one of your men to the back of the mountain (the reverse slope) and call over the infantry artillery squad. Forget it, I'll just let little Sasaki go with you. You have to get one gun anyway."

"Kawakane, Jonitori, your assistant gunners are gone. Wait until the phone is fixed and the squadron can assign you one. Hatae, wait here for Senior Rikogen. Once he's done with that brat, go to the ammunition depot, get the machine gun ammunition, and bring over the anti-tank mine."

“Ah… uh…”

"The Communists won't just fire one round of artillery. They'll definitely fire another before they actually attack... Tanaka, Tanaka!" The old sergeant kicked the rookie, who was paralyzed by the groans and the sound of bayonets piercing flesh. "Tanaka, grab your rifle, put on your grenade pack, and follow me!"

"Hi.....[Hi--!"

The remaining members of the squad quickly dispersed, each moving their own way within the small tunnel. The veterans were deft and skilled, while the newcomers had their share of bumps and bruises, but at least they knew what they were doing and what they should be doing.

The telephone was the key for the squad to report situations, call for reinforcements from the rear (although it was not known whether they would come), and receive orders (although most of them were just things like "stand firm to the end and die for the country"); the 37mm 11-year infantry gun was a crucial direct firepower, which could at least destroy one of the Communist Army's accompanying light machine gun fire points to reduce the pressure during defensive operations.

These were external factors. Within the Japanese squad, the most crucial firepower nodes were the light machine gun and grenade launcher. To master these two weapons, veteran NCOs like the old sergeant were needed. In their hands, the organic combination of direct and indirect fire not only suppressed enemy infantry and facilitated battlefield observation, but also enabled targeted strikes to eliminate enemy firepower points and disrupt the enemy's offensive momentum.

However, after years of fighting, the number of veterans had dwindled, while the number of new recruits had increased, and the unit's combat effectiveness had declined significantly. After much deliberation, the old sergeant decided to assign the two machine guns to two corporals, then carry the grenade launcher himself, eventually finding a new recruit to help carry his ammunition.

He thought that if he could do this, he would have done his best. He couldn't do any better.

Telephone lines were being checked, assistance was being requested, and ammunition and weapons were almost ready. The Japanese soldiers still in the tunnel reached the half-collapsed entrance. They found shovels and pickaxes, dug through the rubble, and made the most of Sato's lifeless body. They lifted him up like a rat, poking his head out, and made their way out.

Those who were still able to move began to move along the trenches that were still in place, heading towards the designated firing positions.

But the sudden bright scenery made people squint their eyes, and after their vision gradually became clear, the old sergeant saw a scene that he would never forget in his life.

Against the backdrop of somewhat desolate mountains, looking out from the cleared shooting range, Wu'an City in the far distance was emitting thick smoke from artillery fire; on the land where winter had ended and spring had returned, a slight cloud of dust rose from one end of the field of vision and ended at the other end.