War Photographer's Notebook

Chapter 1963 The Second Night Raid

Supported by the northwest wind, Wei Ran, whose shoulder was bleeding, carried the junk weapons he had captured at great cost and walked step by step along the path he had come from, through the snow-covered ground.

In the cold wind, the few survivors all pursed their lips, remaining even more silent than when they set out, and filled with resentment at having to give up despite having recaptured the position.

"boom!"

Just as they climbed down that cliff-like high ground, the sound of gunfire from the Japanese soldiers came from behind them.

Fuck your grandma!

Among the survivors, some picked up captured machine guns amidst angry curses and began suppressive fire overhead.

"Retreat! We're at a disadvantage! Retreat!" the officer in charge urged anxiously.

"You retreat first!"

The soldier holding the machine gun began firing again as he spoke.

Seeing this, Wei Ran decisively dropped the machine gun on his shoulder, planted the grenade launcher on the ground, took out a grenade, inserted it, aimed at the position that was almost within reach, and pressed the firing lever.

"Tom!"

Almost the instant the grenade left the grenade launcher, a blinding white light rushed towards Wei Ran, catching him completely off guard.

"boom!"

Almost the instant the grenade exploded, Wei Ran, already enveloped in white light, let out a helpless sigh.

As he waited patiently, the intense white light gradually faded, and he once again felt the biting wind mixed with blood.

But before his vision could return, he realized that he was holding something soft and slightly hot in his hand.

Subconsciously looking down, Wei Ran could vaguely see, by the light emitted from the kerosene lantern hanging not far away, that he was holding two steamed buns in his hand, with the words "Never Forget National Humiliation" written on them in red.

Just then, a voice asked loudly, "Which country does the Northeast belong to?"

"It's from China!" came a chorus of responses from those around them.

Subconsciously looking up at his surroundings, Wei Ran was taken aback to find himself in a neat square formation.

The soldiers in this formation were also warriors carrying large swords on their backs, and they also held two large steamed buns with words written on them.

Just then, at the front of the formation, the officer who was holding a tin megaphone and was estimated to be about 1.9 meters tall asked loudly again, "The three northeastern provinces have been occupied by Japan, and Rehe has also been occupied. Do you hate it?"

"We hate it! We hate it so much!" all the soldiers answered in unison once again.

"Our country is about to perish, aren't you awake? What are you going to do?"

"A wake-up call! We must unite as one to fight against the Japanese invaders!"

"Now is the time!"

The officer said, "Resisting Japan and saving the country is the soldier's duty. We have been raising soldiers for a thousand days, and now it is time to serve our country! Only by not being afraid of sacrifice can we save the nation."

Tonight, we'll outflank the enemy and fight the Japanese devils to the death! We'll show them that the Chinese nation still has a fearless army!

"Kill! Kill! Kill!" The soldiers in the formation responded with murderous intent.

It was him.
Wei Ran stood on tiptoe, trying to see the person speaking in front of him in the darkness. He even subconsciously wanted to try to take out his camera case and see if there was a usable camera inside, so he could take a picture of the other person.

"Fill your stomachs! Tie your leg wraps! Sharpen your broadswords!"

The soldier at the front of the formation gave the order, and the soldiers in the formation responded in unison with a rifle salute that was very characteristic of the era.

Looking around, Wei Ran and the other soldiers in the formation made the same choice without hesitation—first stuffing one of the steaming hot buns into their patched-up cotton-padded jackets.

Wei Ran opened his mouth and took a bite of the remaining steamed bun with writing on it. He chewed it in big mouthfuls.

This steamed bun contained a lot of bran and cornmeal, but it was considered a very good meal for that era, especially since it also contained a few thin, translucent, and incredibly salty slices of pickled vegetables.

While chewing the steamed bun in his mouth, he was also observing his surroundings.

This is a sheltered clearing at the foot of a mountain, with a dilapidated house directly in front of it.

At this moment, the officer he had already recognized turned around and walked into the dilapidated house where the roof had collapsed more than halfway.

He muttered a sigh of regret, and as he took his second bite of the steamed bun, he glanced at his own attire.

Not much different from Bai Guang before, the same dog-skin hat with half its fur missing, the same big knife from the metal notebook on his back, and the same hand grenade at his waist.

The only difference was that he carried a Mauser M712 with a shuttlecock that was exactly the same as the one in the metal notebook that was tied to the carrying pole of the Long March, and this gun used a 20-round magazine.

Unlike last time, everyone's equipment seems to be better this time; at least the people around here all seem to have various styles of Mauser pistols strapped to their waists.

In addition, there were four grenades this time, and the cleaning cloth attached to the end of the hilt of the large knife was a clean, earthy yellow.

Wei Ran knew very well that to turn that wiping cloth red, he needed the blood of the Japanese soldiers.

So this time it's the pistol team?
Wei Ran took another bite of the steaming hot bun and craned his neck to look around.

After his gaze swept over several rows of soldiers, he realized that not every soldier had a Mauser pistol, nor did they all use genuine "German-made" weapons like he did.

Based on the casual conversations he overheard, Wei Ran roughly learned that there was no pistol team participating in this mission at all. The so-called pistol team in later generations was just the remnants of the first and second pistol companies of the 37th Division's Special Service Battalion.

Prior to this, the 37th Division's Special Service Battalion had fought alongside the 109th Brigade at Xifengkou for more than two days and suffered heavy losses. Now, almost all of their fighting strength was left standing here.

In addition, another group, or rather the larger group, did not have pistols at all; they came from the 224th Regiment's broadsword squad.

These two teams, which were almost temporarily combined, were about to follow Brigade Commander Zhao to kill the Japanese!

While he was listening to something from the east and then from the west, some soldiers carried large, steaming buckets on shoulder poles.

The crowd immediately gathered around, lined up, and took a kettle filled with hot water from the large bucket, carefully wrapped it in a towel, and stuffed it into their clothes.

Taking this opportunity, Wei Ran deliberately found a secluded spot and checked everything that could be taken out of the metal notebook.

This time, all that could be taken out were the food-removing knife, the Mauser bayonet, the Mauser pistol, and the anti-Japanese broadsword that was already carried on his shoulder.

But this time, the three magazines (two long and one short) that come with this Mauser pistol in the metal notebook are all fully loaded with bullets, which is really good news.

Just then, the general who did not live to see the victory of the war stepped forward and issued the order, "The remnants of the special operations battalion, prepare to move out!"

As the order was given, the soldiers who were sharpening their swords stood up and lined up.

"Wei Ran, you're here! Why are you pushing forward!"

Just as Wei Ran was about to squeeze to the front of the line, a tall man about the same height as him called out to him.

In this era, someone like Wei Ran, who is over 1.8 meters tall, is indeed considered tall.

But this tall soldier was thinner than the well-proportioned Wei Ran.

Not only that, he also has a conspicuous scar on his face, which runs from the corner of his right eye across his philtrum and extends to the edge of his left chin.

Besides his tall stature, Wei Ran, who was standing next to the other person, also noticed that on the other person's waist belt, which was probably a captured Japanese cloth belt, were two Astra 902 box cannons with 20-round fixed magazines.

"Are you scared?" the tall soldier asked in a low voice.

"Afraid of not killing enough"

Wei Ran gave an answer almost subconsciously, and for some reason, he thought of someone who had asked him the same question before.

"well said!"

The tall man running alongside Wei Ran said with great satisfaction.

"Sorghum Stalk, shut up!" A slanted belt officer shouted from the side of the column, and the big guy next to Wei Ran, whose nickname seemed to be "Sorghum Stalk," immediately shut his mouth.

Braving the cold wind and trudging through the snow, the team, led by a man dressed as a woodcutter, ventured deep into the mountains.

During the approximately two-hour forced march, Wei Ran was sweating profusely, but his feet were getting colder and colder until he almost lost consciousness.

The entire group of soldiers with broadswords remained unusually quiet throughout the journey, so quiet that the only sound was the crunching of their iron feet on the snow.

Finally, when the team stopped, they had bypassed the main battlefield and saw a village ahead that seemed to be lit by a faint fire.

"Take a half-hour break," Commander Zhao, carrying two swords, whispered the order.

When the order was relayed to the back of the line amidst whispers, the people, who were already sweating from running, squatted down one after another.

"Stay close to me later."

The big guy, nicknamed "Sorghum Stalk," whispered in Wei Ran's ear.

Upon hearing this, Wei Ran nodded vigorously in response.

Gradually, everyone's breathing calmed down, and the chill regained its hold on their senses.

At that moment, Brigade Commander Zhao was the first to stand up. The soldiers who had been watching him immediately stood up as well, and in unison took out water bottles filled with hot water from their pockets and poured them onto their broadswords. They then tore off their knife-wiping cloths in the rising steam to dry the water and wrapped them around their hands and knife handles.

Without further ado, the group rushed toward the Japanese camp.

As the distance gradually closed, the group tacitly dispersed, crouching low and dragging their knives across the snow towards the few remaining houses and the tents clustered around them.

"laugh!"

Wei Ran used his sharp broadsword to cut down a yawning sentry, while the sorghum stalks beside him tacitly supported the corpse whose head was about to fall off.

Meanwhile, the other sentries were also dealt with by the rest of the group, allowing more members of the Big Sword Squad to rush into the camp far from the front lines like wolves among sheep.

A little later, Wei Ran and Gao Lianggan caught up, opened a tent, and draped it over the neck of the awakened Japanese soldier, giving him a hard slap.

Before the splattered blood could even hit the ground, the sorghum stalk had already driven the thick blade into the chest cavity of another Japanese soldier.

In the time between the start of this well-intentioned yet unprepared night raid and the first gunshot, Wei Ran and Gao Lianggan had each killed five Japanese soldiers.

"Grenade!"

With a roar following the gunshot, Wei Ran chopped off the head of the sixth Japanese soldier, pulled out a grenade, pulled the fuse, and threw it out with the surrounding team members.

Before the grenades could explode, and even before they could explode, the second and third grenades were thrown in succession to various parts of the camp.

As soon as the loud explosions subsided, Wei Ran pushed aside the corpses that had been used as cover, got up, gripped his knife, and resumed his ruthless hacking and slashing.

From Wei Ran's perspective at this moment, the Japanese soldiers stationed here made two fatal mistakes.

First of all, even if they don't load the weapons with bullets, they should at least attach bayonets.

Secondly, and more fatally, they took off their shoes and coats before going to bed.

These two small details are an absolute advantage for the Big Sword Team at this moment.

After repeatedly knocking open the gun barrel, which had little lethality, Wei Ran would either slide his knife to slash the opponent's wrist or even neck, or simply stomp on the opponent's toes to create fatal interference, and then immediately follow up with a second stab.

As he fought with his sword, the cloth used to wipe his hands and the handle of his sword gradually turned red, and the Japanese soldiers in this camp finally began to organize a counterattack.

"Special Operations Battalion!"

When the order reached his ears, Wei Ran immediately drew the Mauser pistol tucked into his waistband with his left hand and pulled the trigger at the Japanese soldiers who were preparing to counterattack using buildings and cover.

At the same time, he released the wiping cloth he was holding between his fingers in his right hand and flung away the large knife that was tied to his hand.

Before he could put his broadsword back into his metal notebook, Brigade Commander Zhao, in the distance, had already issued a new order: "Hand grenades!"

As Wei Ran transferred the Mauser pistol from his left hand to his right, and another Mauser pistol appeared in his left hand, continuing to provide suppressive fire with the surrounding pistol squad members, some members of the Big Sword Squad had already pulled out grenades and thrown them at the Japanese soldiers who were preparing to counterattack.

"Boom! Boom! Boom!"

The chaotic explosions had barely ended when the pistol squad charged forward, splitting into two groups in perfect unison. With their superior firepower, they easily wiped out the small counterattack force.

But the battle did not end there; instead, more and more Japanese soldiers began to fight back.

For a moment, gunshots and grenade explosions mingled together, drowning out the still-unending sounds of hacking, screaming, and agony.

After emptying the magazines of both guns, Wei Ran didn't even have time to reload before taking out his broadsword again and charging towards the three Japanese soldiers who were hurriedly attaching bayonets to their rifles, along with Gao Lianggan in front of him.

"clang!"

Wei Ran slashed diagonally at a hastily raised Type 38 rifle with all his might, the force of which even knocked the weapon out of the opponent's hand.

"Oh!"

Wei Ran followed up with a powerful kick, sending the Japanese soldier, who was no more than 1.6 meters tall, flying into another Japanese soldier, accompanied by a crisp cracking sound.

Taking advantage of the opportunity he created, a sorghum stalk next to him swung upwards and cut off the wrist of another Japanese soldier.

Amidst the screams of the Japanese soldier, Wei Ran rushed forward and slashed the neck of the last Japanese soldier with his sword.

"laugh!"

The splattered blood splashed onto Wei Ran's body, and he once again experienced that disgusting yet familiar, indescribable feeling of his brain going blank. This time, his knees even buckled and he knelt on the chest of the Japanese soldier whose ribs he had kicked and broken, causing a large gush of bright red blood to gush from the corner of its mouth due to the enormous force.

"Are you injured?" Gao Lianggan asked immediately, grabbing Wei Ran's belt with his blood-soaked hands and lifting him up.

“It’s okay”

Wei Ran used the momentum to stand up, shook his head, and replied, "I've exhausted myself."

"Take a break?"

Seeing that Wei Ran could stand on his own, Gao Lianggan let go of his hand, then took out two bullets from his pocket and loaded them directly into a Mauser pistol clipped to his belt.

"I'm fine"

Wei Ran waved his hand, and under the cover of his pocket, took out a 20-round magazine full of bullets and put it into the gun at his waist.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

In the short time that followed, Gao Lianggan had already raised the Mauser pistol, which he had just loaded with bullets, with one hand and pulled the trigger at the Japanese soldiers who were still standing.

Seeing this, Wei Ran took advantage of the other party's inattention to put away the anti-Japanese broadsword and also replaced the magazine of the Mauser pistol in the metal notebook.

With his and Gaolianggan providing fairly good cover for each other, the two tried their best to eliminate an enemy with every shot.

As time went by, and with each pull of the trigger, Wei Ran had only one last 10-round magazine and one last grenade reserved for bombing a mountain gun.

Fortunately, after he pulled the trigger again and killed a Japanese soldier, the night raid finally came to an end.

"Clean up the battlefield!" an officer ordered from afar.

Upon hearing this, Wei Ran immediately tucked the blood-stained Mauser pistol into his belt and began searching through the corpses scattered on the ground with Gao Lianggan.

Soon, Wei Ran found another grenade launcher and several grenade carrying bags.

Wearing the carrying bag and the grenade launcher on his back, Wei Ran noticed a corpse lying not far away, a corpse with two cameras hanging around its neck.

"Is this a camera?" Gao Lianggan exclaimed in a low voice, sounding surprised.

Before Wei Ran could speak, he took off the "big guy's" camera, looked at it, then looked around, and then stuffed it into his pocket.

"Everyone gets a share, this one is yours!" Gao Lianggan said, handing another camera to Wei Ran.