Comrade, your ingredients are too complicated.

December 30, 1942, 3:00 PM, the 27th Independent Cavalry Regiment's barracks.

Unlike the demoralized 16th Infantry Regiment, which was forced to fight, the Japanese cavalry stationed in the Duolun area were always highly motivated and eager to fight.

Even though their own troops and equipment were at a significant disadvantage, they showed no fear whatsoever.

The Japanese soldiers knew that a fierce blizzard was approaching!

······
Inside the operations conference room, the dim light of a kerosene lamp flickered under the low ceiling, casting the shadows of three Japanese officers onto the yellowed battle map.

They sat in a standard kneeling position around the cast iron furnace, eyes closed, seemingly waiting for some important intelligence.

Suddenly, a biting wind, carrying snowflakes, cleaved open the conference room door like a scalpel.

The wooden door slammed against the wall with a loud bang, and even the charcoal fire in the stove was suddenly dimmed by the gust of air.

Soon, an officer dressed as a staff officer stumbled in, his cap still covered in unmelted snow. He was about to begin his report when Regiment Commander Kazuki Kamijou slowly raised his eyelids, his gaze piercing him like an icicle, and asked first:

"The reconnaissance team should have discovered the Eighth Route Army's movements between the Lightning River and Duolun, right? What's the enemy's condition?"

"How long will this blizzard last? Are the samurai ready to attack?"

That's right, the old Japanese soldier had no intention of hiding in the camp and waiting to die. While other commanders were still hesitating about whether to hold their ground and wait for reinforcements or to move to Rehe, he had already seen through the true value of this blizzard.

On the battlefield ravaged by the white blizzard, visibility plummeted to less than 100 meters, leaving only chaos in the sky and earth.

Although the cavalry's horses struggled to move through knee-deep snow, they were far more agile than wheeled vehicles stuck in snowdrifts or light tanks with engine failures.

More than 30 centimeters of snow would be enough to turn these steel behemoths into scrap metal, and the long supply lines would make their fuel supply even more precarious.

Such heavy snow not only completely eliminated the Eighth Route Army's advantages in mobility and firepower, but also provided the best cover for the cavalry.

This is the best battlefield bestowed upon their regiment by Amaterasu, the only chance to drag mechanized and motorized troops back to the era of hand-to-hand combat.

Seeing his colonel's serious and imposing expression, the staff officer who came to report unconsciously swallowed.

His Adam's apple bobbed laboriously at the collar of his uniform, and his fingers, clutching the battle report, trembled slightly, the edges of the paper making a soft rustling sound in the quiet room.

"Report! Report!"

The staff officer suddenly jolted, his boot heels clattering together.

As if pouring all his courage into this moment, he suddenly raised his chin, the bulging veins on his neck clearly visible under the kerosene lamp: "According to our estimation, this blizzard will last for at least half a week!"

"Although we lack accurate intelligence, all the samurai are fully prepared for battle and ready to strike at any moment!"

Upon hearing this, the three officers in the operations room all showed expressions of dissatisfaction.

“Speculation?” Kamijou Ichiki, sitting in the head seat, spoke slowly, his knuckles tapping the battle map with a dull sound. “Using such ambiguous intelligence as the basis for operations is simply a desecration of the existing Army Staff Regulations, and it’s playing with the lives of precious cavalrymen!”

Despite their complaints, the three old Japanese soldiers were forced to accept reality.

Unfortunately, given their current conditions, they can only rely on equipment such as thermometers, barometers, and anemometers, combined with visual observation of cloud cover and wind direction, to predict the weather for the next few days.

Field weather team?
That's a type of soldier that's only assigned to army-level units, or even field armies.

Aviation meteorological team?
The entire North China Army Aviation Corps has been almost wiped out, so where are the planes left to provide aviation weather forecasts?

As for stealing or intercepting the Eighth Route Army's weather telegrams?
That is even more nonsense.

Ever since Abwell rose to prominence in Germany, their own intelligence agencies have shown signs of becoming a disgrace to the Axis powers. It would be better to pray to Amaterasu Omikami a few more times than to expect them to be effective.

With this thought in mind, Kamijou Ichiki sighed helplessly.

"Oh, thank you for your hard work! Making judgments under such adverse conditions must be truly admirable."

"Ok?"

Halfway through his sentence, the old Japanese man suddenly noticed that the howling wind outside was gradually subsiding. Even the previously dense snowfall was becoming sparse.

As a seasoned colonel and regimental commander, he immediately realized that this was a sign that Leng Feng had already passed through.

This means that the blizzard in the area where the Eighth Route Army is located is about to reach its peak, and a fierce blizzard is approaching!

If we don’t fight now, when will we wait?
"Chong"

With the sound of a katana being drawn, Kamijou Ichiki stood up from the mat, the cold light reflecting off his ferocious face.

"A golden opportunity, how can we miss it?"

"Pass on my order! All troops, prepare for attack!"

······
The biting wind whipped snow against the faces of the Japanese soldiers. Thanks to meticulous preparations before the operation, the 27th Independent Cavalry Regiment completed its formation at the assembly point in just forty minutes, with each company as a unit.

Facing hundreds of soldiers fully equipped and ready to go, Regiment Commander Kazuki Kamijou slowly raised the thermometer in his hand, and the mercury column stopped at the -31.5℃ mark.

The old Japanese soldier deliberately let the number linger in the cold wind for a few more seconds so that the officers in the front row could see it clearly.

"Gentlemen!" His voice pierced through the howling wind, "This is the coldest weather Chahar has seen in fifteen years! Those pampered soldiers of the Eighth Route Army who can't fight without air and artillery support simply cannot maintain their fighting spirit in this kind of weather!"

"People always say that cavalry is an outdated type of soldier," Kamijou's voice suddenly rose, "but today, this snowfield is the best battlefield to prove our worth!"

"Let those enemies sitting in tin cans see who the real masters are in hell at minus thirty degrees!"

The moment the words were spoken, the entire assembly area was set ablaze.

"Chong"

The metallic tremor of hundreds of Type 32 cavalry sabers being drawn simultaneously pierced the cold wind, their blades reflecting a chilling light that danced across the snow like a python ready to devour its prey.

The soldiers' faces, covered in frostbite, were contorted with fervor, and hoarse shouts rose and fell.

In this extreme cold of minus thirty degrees Celsius, a frenzied temperature is boiling in the veins of every cavalryman.

"It's a black card, it's onboard!"

"We will restore the glory of the Imperial Cavalry!"

It was clear that Kazuki Kamijou was quite satisfied with the effect of his mobilization efforts.

But passion alone cannot defeat the mechanized and motorized forces of the Eighth Route Army.

Thinking of this, he slowly swept his gaze across the entire scene, then raised his hand and made a downward gesture, instantly silencing the restless soldiers as if they had been choked.

"Next, our corps will operate in multiple squadrons along the highway between Lightning River and Doron. Everyone must be as elusive as ghosts, launching rapid raids against the enemy."

"I have only one requirement for you all, and that is to strictly prohibit pointless suicide attacks. Everyone should avoid encountering the enemy's main armored forces or powerful combat units as much as possible, and only target logistics and transportation units."

"According to Navy idiots, this is called a multi-stage ambush tactic."

"When we completely destroy the Eighth Route Army's logistical capabilities, that will be the time for us to launch a decisive battle and truly charge forward!"

Kamijou Ichiki's tactics seem simple, but they reveal a cunning, venomous nature.

This old Japanese devil planned to use the mobility of his cavalry to constantly harass the supply lines of the Suiyuan Military Region, tearing a wound in its logistics that would never heal.

If the Japanese soldiers followed his tactics, the entire cavalry regiment would become like a bunch of idiots, sometimes raiding lone transport teams, sometimes ambushing at mountain passes, keeping the Eighth Route Army on edge day and night, exhausted in the blizzards.

This guerrilla tactic of avoiding decisive battles and instead engaging in attrition warfare is exactly the same as the Finns' tactics against the Russians in the Winter War.

The main strategy is to avoid direct confrontation and instead target the enemy's weaknesses, causing them to bleed to death through endless attrition.

In a sense, this can be considered a real-life version of a horse race; the determination of steel is truly admirable.

Upon hearing their regimental commander's order, the junior officers in the front row nodded in unison, their eyes gleaming with understanding, clearly grasping the essence of the tactics.

However, a commotion broke out in the back ranks of the soldiers.

"What a joke!" a veteran with a face covered in frostbite suddenly shouted. "We are cavalry! Not bandits from the mountains!"

Before he finished speaking, a chorus of agreement arose from those around him:
"A righteous charge is the way of the warrior!"

"What kind of Imperial soldier hides and hides?!"

"Commander, please allow us to engage the enemy head-on!"

During World War II, although the Japanese army's cavalry was not monopolized by nobles, it was essentially a semi-noble elite force.

Sometimes, a corps commander really can't act unilaterally.

Left with no other choice, Kamijou Ichiki could only suppress his anger and explain:
"Your bravery is beyond doubt, and defeating the enemy's armored forces head-on is not difficult. However, the key to this battle lies in cutting off their food and ammunition! This is the true way to victory!"

"Samurai, the homeland is still waiting for our good news. I'm sure none of you want to disappoint His Majesty the Emperor, right?"

After repeated persuasion and orders, the 27th Independent Cavalry Regiment finally united and embarked on its journey into the snowy plains.

Soon, the company's lieutenants, riding their well-built warhorses, rode past Ichiki Kamijou one by one, each giving him a salute.

This scene stirred a surge of heroic spirit within the old Japanese soldier.

"We have no rivals ahead!" (End of Chapter)