Comrade, your ingredients are too complicated.

December 1942, 12, Wanquan County, Chahar, Suiyuan Military Region Advance Force Command.

The dusk is dark and the setting sun is blood-red.

At the same time when the 15st and nd Air Divisions worked together to gain air supremacy over Chahar and Hebei, Commander XK and his staff had already entered the blue brick compound that was once the headquarters of the th Independent Mixed Brigade of the Japanese Army.

On the lintel, a plaque with the words "Japan and Mongolia are one, and Asia will prosper together" hangs diagonally, and wisps of green smoke are still coming out of the bullet hole pierced by a stray bullet.

"Pass on my order. Take off the Japs' bullshit plaster and take over all combat facilities immediately."

"Political Commissar, we have taken the city, but the real test has just begun! The city is now full of civilians, the enemy may still be mixed in, there are also wounded and food shortages, we must stabilize the situation immediately."

Commander Xiao stepped over the threshold with resounding steps, his military boots rolling over the Japanese military documents scattered on the ground, making a crisp sound of paper breaking.

His sharp eyes swept across every corner of the new command room like a hawk, while he issued orders continuously in a steady and powerful voice.

Under his arrangement, two soldiers had set up a ladder and neatly peeled off the huge military map on the wall that was marked with "Defend the Key Map".

As the new battle map slowly unfolded, the staff quickly marked the new attack line with red and blue pencils. The arrows, whose ink had not yet dried, pointed directly at the Japanese troops in the encirclement.

At the same time, the high-power radio station in the corner was also deployed.

When the power is connected, the dashboard lights up with a faint blue light, and the radio waves are about to carry a new mission and fly to various parts of the battlefield.

"Reporting to the commander, the communication equipment is intact and can be put into use immediately."

"Okay, thank you for your hard work!"

After looking around the combat meeting room, Commander Xiao walked to the sand table and examined the ever-changing battlefield situation with a keen gaze.

At this time, the enemy and friendly dynamics on the sand table are being replayed.

The young combat staff were adjusting the sand table layout in a tense and orderly manner. The red flag representing the Suiyuan Military Region was like a prairie fire, and was successively planted in strategic locations such as Zhangbei and Huaian.

The blue logo symbolizing the 15th Independent Mixed Brigade and the st Cavalry Regiment is now like two dumplings with thin skin and large fillings, surrounded by nearly Eighth Route Army troops in Zhangjiakou and Weixian.

Seeing the commander coming to his side, the chief of staff immediately put down the combat documents in his hand, leaned forward slightly, and said in a low voice:

"Old Xiao, the movement of our two divisions and two brigades will objectively disrupt the strategic planning of the headquarters."

"I'm going to explain the situation to the deputy commander-in-chief and General Nie on the grounds of 'sudden changes in the battlefield situation and the need to secure fighter jets to destroy the enemy'. Do you think this is appropriate?"

In the original combat plan of the Taiyuan headquarters, the Suiyuan Military Region and the 129th Division of Shanxi Province should have launched attacks on Chahar and Hebei at the same time, sweeping away the enemy forces with lightning speed.

But plans cannot keep up with changes, and the enemy situation has changed.

Chahar's 15th Independent Mixed Brigade and the st Cavalry Regiment received an urgent telegram from Okamura Yasuji, and on the same day they prepared to march south with heavy equipment and supplies in an attempt to transform themselves from an isolated force into a heavy military group.

Adhering to the principle that flexible use of military forces is the mission of the war command center, Commander Xiao and the political commissar immediately convened a front-line party committee meeting and decisively sent troops after a collective decision.

After all, understanding strategic intentions is often more important than blindly obeying orders. When unplanned cracks appear on the battlefield, they are often the most deadly blade stabbing the enemy.

After hearing the proposal of his chief of staff, Commander Xiao nodded subconsciously. In the military thought system of the Eighth Route Army, exerting subjective initiative is the core principle.

Before giving the order, he even foresaw the reply from the headquarters and the military region stating that the determination was correct and the handling was appropriate.

Thinking of this, he cleared his throat and said to his chief of staff:

"Okay, let's send the telegram. By the way, don't worry too much about the suddenness of the attack. Our enemy now has weak industrial strength and is slow in manufacturing aircraft, artillery and tanks. There are even problems with the supply lines between the front and the rear."

"It won't be a big deal even if the troops alert the enemy. After all, we are no longer the Eighth Route Army of three years ago, and surprise is no longer our only reliance.

"According to Chief Huang's words, our troops now have a kind of numerical beauty, so it would be no problem even if we crush them openly."

Today's TG fighting against the book is like the ten-mine Terran fighting the single-mine Zerg in StarCraft 2.

I took over a dozen barracks, heavy industries and starports, and maxed out their production capacity, filling the entire screen with spearmen, siege tanks, Thors and battlecruisers, and still had tens of thousands of gas and minerals left.

Even if you are a world champion, proficient in multi-line and micro-management, you will still have to kneel down in the end.

When the mechanized forces of my military region are several times that of your entire country, why do you fight me?

Just as Commander Xiao was chatting with his chief of staff, a steady sound of footsteps suddenly came from outside the blue brick courtyard. The two looked over and saw that it was "Numerical" himself who had come from afar. "Haha, Lao Xiao, I didn't expect your vanguard to be so decisive. My armored division hasn't even arrived yet, and your motorized infantry has already surrounded the Japanese."

"Come on, come on, guess how many tanks I brought this time."

"I'm talking about our military region's new medium tanks, not the old T-26s that were there to make up the numbers."

That’s right, the person who came was Commander Yang, formerly of the First Division and current commander of the MG Military Region.

He and Xiao had known each other as early as the strategic transfer period, and had experienced the life-and-death test of the Xiangjiang Campaign together. During the War of Resistance Against Japanese Aggression, their bases supported each other and jointly threatened the enemy's North China transportation line, so they were naturally very familiar with each other.

Faced with the joking look of his old comrade, Commander Xiao's eyes darkened slightly, and he tapped lightly three times with his fingertips on the position of Baotou on the battle map.

After a moment, he finally gave a slightly conservative estimate based on the monthly production capacity of Baotou No. 1 Machinery Plant.

"Before I left, the monthly production capacity of the First Machine Plant was 191 vehicles. Considering the workers' steadily improving efficiency and the third production line that will soon be put into production, I estimate that you should have brought 183 T-3485s this time."

Commander Yang was stunned at first, then burst into hearty laughter.

He neatly unbuttoned the pocket button on his military uniform, pulled out a list with the seal of the confidential department, and spread it out on the table.

"You underestimated the production efficiency of our First Machine Factory and the enthusiasm of all the workers in Baotou. 191 vehicles, that was all in the past. The current figure is 247!"

"I brought two armored divisions this time, a total of 352 T-3485s."

"That's it. I haven't even counted the mess of light tanks and various auxiliary vehicles."

As soon as these words were spoken, Commander Xiao and the Chief of Staff's eyes pierced the direction of the Pingsui Railway like sharp swords.

No words were needed; they seemed to have heard the clanging sound of the T-3485's tracks rolling over the rails, and saw the unwiped anti-rust oil on the dark green body of the car glowing coldly in the setting sun.

"352 vehicles, two armored divisions. It may seem like using a cannon to kill a mosquito, but that's the beauty of numbers."

······
Late that night, 35 kilometers south of Zhangjiakou, at the border between Chahar and Hebei provinces.

In the temporary command post of the 15th Independent Mixed Brigade of the Japanese Army, Major General Setsu Matsui lay on his back on a makeshift stretcher. His blood-stained military trousers were cut open by a medic's bayonet, revealing a hideous penetrating wound on the fibula of his left leg.

Blood continued to seep out from the rough gauze bandage, forming a sticky pool of blood under the stretcher, blurring the battle map scattered on the ground.

The chief of staff, Lieutenant Colonel Yasuzaburo Ogawa, who was also injured, leaned against an ammunition box, feeling dull pain in his ribs under the bandages.

He looked at Matsui Setsu's pale face and wanted to say something encouraging, but in the end he could only squeeze out a word of comfort in a hoarse voice.

"Major General, you must hold on. The military doctors and soldiers have gone to look for hemostatic herbs. The encirclement of the Eighth Route Army has not closed yet, so we still have a chance to break out."

"Besides, we have an independent mixed brigade. General Okamura will definitely not abandon such a brave division."

Before Xiaochuan finished speaking, his own major general's pale face suddenly flushed with a sickly red. His veiny hands suddenly grabbed the scabbard, and a terrifying light burst out of his turbid pupils.

"Baka, don't mention Okamura Yasuji to me again. It was because they believed the slander of that defeated general that the 15th Independent Mixed Regiment abandoned the city and exposed themselves to the artillery fire of the Eighth Route Army."

"Besides, I have already seen it. Whether it is the direct troops of the North China Front Army or the 1st, 3rd, 8th, and 15th independent mixed brigades, they have all become victims of the Kwantung Army."

Having said this, Matsui Setsu suddenly shouted loudly and forced himself to stand up with the help of his samurai sword.

However, due to the weakness caused by blood loss, the old devil began to shake violently the moment he stood up, and the family heirloom samurai sword even scratched deep marks on the soil.

"Humph, it seems you have nothing to say. Ogawa-kun, don't be naive. We are all abandoned pawns, abandoned pawns of Umezu Mijiro to save Manchuria."

"We're all going to die anyway, so why don't we launch a final charge together before the Eighth Route Army's tanks head to the battlefield?"

Upon hearing this, the command center suddenly fell into a strange excitement.

The staff officers' smoke-stained faces showed twisted smiles, and the operations director began to tidy up his appearance with trembling fingers. In the corner, even the seriously injured signalman struggled to reach for his rifle.

Everyone knew that this was just the last struggle of the trapped beasts. But rather than rotting in the dark mountains, they would rather burn up in madness.

"Hey! I will follow your decision! We should also scatter like cherry blossoms and fulfill the duties of the locust army!" (End of this chapter)