Comrade, your ingredients are too complicated.

Three forty-five in the morning, West City East District, Weixian County.

Unlike the city walls and Ying'en Gate which were filled with smoke and gunfire, the Fangzi Allied Expatriates Concentration Camp did not seem to be affected by the war at this time.

Inside and outside the high walls, it’s like two different worlds.

Only the occasional Japanese shouting and flickering torches allowed the onlookers to sense a slight undercurrent.

At the edge of the concentration camp, Wei Dayong waved his hand, and the soldiers of the three assault platoons used the surrounding buildings as cover and moved towards their respective predetermined targets.

"on!"

"Everyone, take cover."

"Under non-essential circumstances, please try not to shoot!"

The concentration camp used by the devils to detain expatriates of the Allied nations was originally a Ledaoyuan built by the ugly Chinese.

There are not only elementary and middle school teaching buildings here, but also exotic courtyards and cathedrals, and even two towering astronomical observatories.

With the help of the connected buildings, the commandos of the 1st Marine Brigade blended into the night like ghosts, moving silently in the shadows.

As for the patrolling devils and sentries?
The current West City Wall was seriously lacking in troops and reinforcements, and even some civilian staff in the concentration camp were sent to the battlefield. The Japanese were lucky enough to suppress the prisoners, so they had no energy to maintain the alert level.

Besides, the Japanese 12th Army had been operating in Weixian for many years, and the local Japanese expatriates even called it the Nagoya of China.

Who could have imagined that in this city, which was regarded as the absolute rear, an elite commando team of the Eighth Route Army would suddenly appear?
"Machine gun crews, each take up a favorable firing position, aim at the high-threat Japanese troops in the square, and fire only after hearing my order."

"40 rocketeers, go to the three o'clock direction. Once the battle begins, your mission is to blow up the sentry tower and not give the enemy a chance to fight back."

"Except for the three rows that are flanking the flank, everyone else will follow me and charge head-on."

The light machine gun is large in size and not suitable for close-range shooting in a residential area, so Wei Dayong arranged the firepower group in a position with a wide field of vision to wait for opportunities to provide support.

Following the captain's orders, four groups of soldiers each searched for positions with their Type 99 rifles that had not been used for a long time.

Some of them lay down beside natural shelters, some were in the corners of buildings, and some were agile machine gunners who went straight up to the empty sentry tower with their weapons and ammunition.

After the fire group was ready for battle, Wei Dayong led the soldiers to continue marching through the concentration camp.

Under the moonlight, the shadows of the buildings cast a dark cover on the commandos. Their steps were light and accurate, cleverly avoiding the enemy's sight.

Soon, the comrades arrived at the residence of the Allied expatriates.

With the help of torches and street lamps, Wei Dayong saw Captain Igarashi who was showing off his might, and the ugly US Navy sergeant who was knocked to the ground by the butt of a gun.

"Humph, it's true that a dog can't change its nature. This is probably the last madness of the Japs."

"First Platoon, follow me. Huzi, you lead the Second Platoon to provide us with fire support. Remember, everyone must protect the safety of the Allied expatriates as much as possible."

"Kill all the Japanese soldiers with guns!"

"Click."

With the uniform sound of safety switches, all rifles and submachine guns were ready to fire.

After all the soldiers in the first row advanced to the best charging area, Wei Dayong raised the Mas-38 in his hand and shouted in the communication channel:

"Open fire! Take no prisoners, leave no one behind!"

In an instant, more than twenty submachine guns spewed out flames at the same time.

Dense bullets poured down like a rainstorm, weaving into a firepower network with no blind spots, completely covering the Japs.

Faced with a dense barrage of hundreds of bullets, the guard captain Igarashi and several Japanese soldiers around him had no time to scream before their upper bodies were torn apart by the violent bullets.

On the watchtower, the Japanese machine gunner was shocked by the sudden attack.

After identifying the attackers, they decisively turned their guns around. The two Type 92 heavy machine guns made sharp sounds of metal friction, preparing to suppress the Eighth Route Army commandos in the target area with firepower.

"40 fire! Quick!"

"Fire!"

As the rockets screamed through the air, four fire dragons tore through the night. At a distance of less than a hundred meters, the rocketeers fired every shot and hit the target without any suspense.

Brick and stone debris and soil flew everywhere, and two Type 92 heavy machine guns were curled and deformed in the flames.

The last hope of the Japanese concentration camp to turn the tables was turned into waste along with the machine gunner who died with his eyes open without even firing a single bullet.

"First row, stay alert!"

"Huzi, lead the second platoon to clear the area and catch all the hidden devils!"

"Yes!"

Thanks to the limited penetration of submachine gun bullets and the accurate shooting skills of the commandos led by Wei Dayong, every bullet avoided the hostages as if they had eyes. When the smoke gradually thinned under the light, the Allied expatriates were shocked to find that there was not even a scratch on their bodies except for sawdust and wall dust.

Their bloodshot eyes were filled with disbelief, until someone trembled and touched their intact bodies, and then the suppressed cheers suddenly exploded.

Amid these cheers, there was both the ecstasy of surviving the disaster and the tearful accusation of the inhuman torture that lasted for hundreds of days and nights.

Considering that the scene was not completely safe yet, Wei Dayong first helped the injured Ugly Navy Sergeant up, then raised his voice and announced loudly in authentic British English:
"We are the Eighth Route Army, a unit of the Republic of China. We are saved!"

"The medical team will be here soon. Our 1st Marine Brigade will take care of everyone at the scene! From now on, no Japanese soldier will be able to harm you again. I promise you this on my military honor."

"Welcome back to the free world."

After saying this, the monk turned around and gave orders to the soldiers behind him.

"Distribute the rations and water we have, and give priority to the seriously injured and the elderly and children. Remember to send people to maintain order at the scene. Contact the helicopter reconnaissance company and ask them to bring sufficient food and medical supplies."

"Roger that!"

······
Just when Wei Dayong was resettling the Allied expatriates, the third platoon led by Duan Peng also rushed to the office area where the civilian staff of the concentration camp were located.

Seeing the devils hastily burning the documents, he raised his gun and shot without hesitation to stop them from destroying the evidence, and then gave the order in a cold voice:
"No one who resists will be spared!"

In the sudden attack, all the civilian staff who were only equipped with pistols were killed. Some of them did not even have the chance to turn around and slide to their knees before they were shot into sieves by submachine guns.

Seeing that the situation was irreversible, the highest commander of the concentration camp, Lieutenant Colonel Jimbo, drew his pistol without hesitation.

The reason why the old Japanese drew his gun was not because he wanted to turn the tide of the battle with a Type 94 Nambu rifle, but because he was preparing to commit suicide.

Because he knew very well that as the manager of this concentration camp, if he fell into the hands of the Eighth Route Army or the Allied Forces, death would be a luxury.

It’s a pity that the Type 94 Nambu gun is another masterpiece of Master Nambu.

The moment he raised his gun, a misfired bullet pierced his ear. The intense pain made the old Japanese reflexively let go of the scrap metal in his hand.

When Lieutenant Colonel Jimbo tried to pick up the pistol, Duan Peng's iron knee was already against his neck.

"Ah! Who are you? The Eighth Route Army paratroopers?"

"I can't breathe. I can't breathe."

Hearing the broken Chinese, Duan Peng grinned. He first tied up the only prisoner with a rope, and then said to his comrade beside him:

"Lieutenant Colonel, this is a pretty good trophy."

"Help me look through the intelligence to see what this old devil's name is and what position he held in the concentration camp."

Upon hearing this, the soldier who came to support immediately put away his submachine gun and took out a document from his military uniform pocket. Soon, a document with a photo was turned out.

"Nobuhiko Jinbo, lieutenant commander."

"The devils' methods of managing the concentration camps were extremely brutal. They often took pleasure in abusing prisoners. They had long been listed as key targets for elimination by local comrades."

As soon as these words came out, a cold light flashed in Duan Peng's eyes.

While thinking about how to deal with Jinbo Nobuhiko, he unconsciously increased the force of his knees, almost breaking the old devil's neck.

If he hadn't stopped the force in time, the lieutenant colonel would have died under the iron knee.

"Forget it. We have regulations in the Eighth Route Army that we cannot attack prisoners. But we still have to fight the enemy later, so let's hand him over to the Allied expatriates for the time being."

When Nobuhiko Kamiya learned his final fate, the old devil suddenly burst out with astonishing brute force.

Seeing this, the soldiers did not bother to be polite with him. They first pulled down the curtain to cover his mouth, then knocked him unconscious with the butt of a rifle, and took him away like a dead dog.

After a while, the third assault platoon, carrying various documents, rushed back to the square and reunited with the main force.

The Japanese were very cruel to the expatriates of the Allied countries, providing them with only a very small amount of food every day to barely keep them alive. Looking at the pale and thin people who were wolfing down to replenish their energy, Duan Peng cleared his throat and said loudly:
"Everyone, eat slowly, don't rush."

"I have also prepared some after-meal exercises for everyone present. I hope you will like them."

After saying this, the soldiers tied up Kamiya Nobuhiko, who had just woken up, under a street light.

The rescued expatriates put down the food in their hands one after another, and everyone's eyes were no longer dodging, but piercing directly at the person who once dominated their life and death like a sharp blade.

······
After escorting Nobuhiko Kamiya to the square, Duan Peng quickly deployed four soldiers to maintain vigilance, and then quickly ran to the commando's temporary command post.

Pushing open the creaking wooden door, the tall figures of my comrades and several elderly Westerners immediately came into view.

When Duan Peng recognized the face of one of the white-haired old men, he immediately remembered the story Director Huang had told him, and a meaningful smile appeared on the corner of his mouth.

"Goodbye, Mr. Situ." (End of this chapter)