Comrade, your ingredients are too complicated.

The bullets pierced the sky, and the battle continued.

Inside the forward command post, the brigade commander, gripping his riding whip, stood on a wooden observation platform, gazing into the distance.

The telescope's lens reflected the distant, flickering flames. Every crater and plume of smoke from a shell, every burst of flame from a napalm bomb, brought a smile to his face.

"The artillery did a great job! Just over an hour of fire coverage was enough to crush the fighting will of the Japanese and their puppet troops."

At this point, the brigade commander paused for a moment, then turned to the operations staff officer and gave the order in a calm and decisive tone:

"Notify the 81st Division to send forward reconnaissance teams immediately. I need to accurately assess the effects of the artillery fire."

"Focus on investigating three points: First, the extent of damage to the outer defensive fortifications of Shimen. Second, the distribution of the remaining enemy firing positions. Third, whether there are any signs that the Japanese troops in the city have mobilized their reserves."

"Tell the comrades that the action must be swift and covert. If any remaining enemy forces are found to be organizing resistance, report it immediately, and I will deliver another round of precise artillery fire to the Japanese."

"Yes!"

The operations staff officer stood at attention, saluted, then turned and strode away briskly.

Just as the brigade commander raised his binoculars again, aiming the lens at the stone gate, preparing to continue observing the enemy's movements, a rhythmic sound of footsteps suddenly came from below the stairs.

Soon, the skinny staff officer climbed up the wooden observation platform in three quick steps, his uniform hem still covered with snow dust he had brought up from downstairs.

After he stood still, he quickly straightened his uniform and stood shoulder to shoulder with the brigade commander.

"Old Chen, the Second Air Division has sent back reconnaissance intelligence that the previous napalm bomb strikes were far more effective than expected. Look, there are almost no survivors in this fire."

"All the wooden fortifications, camouflage nets, and ammunition depots were burned to ashes."

"Come on, come on, take a look at the photos."

After speaking, the skinny staff officer spread out the photographs one by one and laid them flat on the battle table of the observation post. In the black and white images, the entire outer city moat defense line was scorched into a charred and lifeless state.

The brigade commander grabbed a handful of photos and squinted to examine them carefully, one by one.

In the footage, the once crisscrossing trenches are now just scorched, ravine-like outlines. A few isolated concrete fortifications stand forlornly on the charred earth, surrounded by scattered, twisted and deformed metal debris.

"It looks like it burned very thoroughly. I can already see signs of scorched earth in this photo."

"Hey, wait a minute, where did you get this photo? Isn't the nearest airport to Shimen in Yangquan?"

Upon hearing this, the skinny staff officer immediately revealed a sly smile. He first patted the brigade commander on the shoulder, then raised his index finger and pointed to the sky above their heads.

Just then, the hum of a reconnaissance plane's engine came from the sky.

Seeing that his old comrade had realized what was happening, he cleared his throat and imitated a broken Fenghua accent, saying:
"My brother Chuanjin, the air force fought bravely and achieved remarkable results! They have burned down all the core fortifications of the Japanese invaders in the Waishigou and Yunpanshan areas."

"Where the fire reached, the enemy's earthen fortifications and ammunition depots were reduced to scorched earth. This is the result of heavenly fire sweeping away all obstacles and destroying their strongholds!"

"The fire-sea tactic must be used to its fullest extent; we must not emulate Xiang Yu's womanly compassion. ZZ, handwritten."

"How about it? Do I look good? Hahaha."

In the original timeline, there were indeed instances of the bald man airdropping orders to the battlefield during the War of Resistance against Japan. However, compared to after 45, the frequency of his actions was much lower, and there are very few clearly documented instances.

The reason is simply that the Russian Air Force is not strong enough and lacks dedicated reconnaissance or transport aircraft.

After all, you can't expect the outdated Hawk 3 to penetrate the layers of air blockade imposed by Japan to transmit military intelligence.

However, the situation is different now.

Since the French traded a large number of prisoners to the Chinese Communist Party for twenty C-47s and two squadrons of Hurricane fighter jets, the air dropper has given this traditional skill a new lease on life.

For a time, the loyal generals had no way to express their grievances, while the local factions tried every means to politely refuse and delay.

But the most audacious one was Delin, who, having a private relationship with the ideological crusaders, actually sent a handwritten letter directly to the Eighth Route Army Office in Chongqing through secret channels.

When Huang He's older brother saw that the Guangxi clique was "begging" for spare parts from the border, he couldn't help but burst out laughing.

"Alright, stop talking nonsense. You should stay away from the Yellow River in the future; you're always learning all sorts of random things."

"The battle reports from the front should have reached you by now. Don't hold back, take them out quickly. Business is important, and headquarters doesn't have much time for us."

When it came to serious matters, the skinny staff officer immediately stopped laughing and joking.

He deftly separated several intelligence reports from the folder and spread them out on the war table like dealing cards. The papers, still smelling of gunpowder, and a crooked hand-drawn map quickly covered the previous aerial photographs.

While his brigade commander was bent over flipping through the documents, the skinny staff officer quietly moved to the other side of the battle table and pointed to the northeast corner of the map:

"After nearly two hours of artillery bombardment, all the outposts on the outskirts of Shimen, including Da'anshe, Yuecun, Daguocun, and Yunpanshan, have now been cleared."

"Especially in the direction of Yunpan Mountain, the enemy raised a white flag after the third round of shelling. The hand-drawn map handed over by the puppet troops has been verified to be the city defense deployment of the 39th Independent Mixed Brigade."

"In my opinion, now is the perfect time to launch the second phase of the operation. We should strike while the iron is hot and break through the last layer and a half of defenses in one fell swoop."

Upon hearing this, the brigade commander suddenly spread his arms and slammed them onto the combat table.

Through the battle reports before him, he seemed to see the flames of napalm raging in the enemy's fortifications, and to see fortresses collapsing under the fire of artillery.

"Alright, pass on my orders! The artillery group shall immediately extend its firepower to cover all enemies in the inner city trenches!"

"Notify the 240th self-propelled artillery company to be on standby at any time. If they encounter any reinforced concrete bunkers that they cannot break through, they should directly have their regimental command call for artillery support."

"Yes!"

······
Outside Shimen, the Japanese army's inner city moat defense line.

Unlike the puppet troops who were weak in combat and would surrender en masse at the slightest disagreement, the Japanese soldiers stationed on the second line of defense, even after witnessing the tragic state of their allies' positions, had no intention of surrendering.

Of course, the Bushido spirit played a part in this, but the more realistic reason was that they had nowhere else to retreat.

At this moment, the Japanese soldiers were in no better situation than the Russians who were surrounded during the Battle of Kiev.

The Eighth Route Army had completed its encirclement from all sides, leaving not a single gap for them to break out. The entire defensive line was like an airtight iron barrel, trapping them firmly inside.

"Gentlemen, our retreat is cut off. This battle will be our last." A Japanese regimental commander slowly surveyed his men, his sword striking the ground with a dull thud.

"There is no need for further words. I hope that you will all adhere to the duties of soldiers and not disgrace the name of the warriors of my country."

"After the meeting, each company should immediately go to the ammunition trench to collect spike mines. The Eighth Route Army's tanks will definitely attack, and even if it means using flesh and blood, they will turn the enemy's armored forces into scrap metal."

In the corner, a young company commander suddenly knelt down: "Sir! Shouldn't we reconsider?"

"Baka!" Before the lieutenant could finish speaking, the colonel kicked over the ammunition box with a fierce expression. "From now on, anyone who mentions retreating will be executed on the spot!"

"boom!"

Just as the old Japanese officer was trying to stabilize morale, a series of explosions suddenly came from not far away. The officers instinctively rushed to the windows and saw several pillars of fire shooting into the sky from the direction of the ammunition trench.

Seeing this, the colonel shoved aside the staff officer blocking his way and staggered out the door. The other officers followed closely behind, scrambling and stumbling after him.

As soon as they rushed out of the command post, they were forced to squint by the sweltering heat.

At this moment, the entire ammunition storage area was engulfed in flames, with burning ammunition boxes crackling and exploding like firecrackers, and the wooden poles of lightning rods could be vaguely seen flying through the air.

When the old Japanese soldier arrived at the explosion site, a military policeman engulfed in flames was writhing on the ground in agony.

The white armband bearing the character "宪" (Xiàn) had long been burned to charred fragments, the flesh sizzling in the flames, and the air filled with a nauseating stench of burning.

"Baka! What are you standing there for? Hurry up and save them!"

No sooner had he finished speaking than a veteran stepped forward and kicked the flames on the military policeman's back with his military boot.

Seeing that the method was working, the surrounding soldiers immediately formed a circle. Dozens of pairs of military boots rained down on the military police, and some even accidentally kicked the toes of the boots into their heated ribs.

A few dozen seconds later, the flames were finally extinguished. But the military policeman was already unrecognizable; his roasted lips were still opening and closing, but he could no longer make a sound.

“Give him an assault ingot. Even if he’s going to die, he has to tell me what happened in the ammunition depot.”

Upon hearing this, the medic who arrived late shook his head: "Where are there any Assault Pills? They were all sent to the outer city ditch before, and the brigade hasn't restocked us yet."

Just as the old Japanese soldier angrily drew his katana, preparing to hack at the surrounding wreckage to vent his anger, he suddenly felt a tightness in his trouser leg.

The charred military policeman, in a final burst of energy, gripped his boot with his hand, which was burned so badly that the finger bones were exposed.

“Commander-in-Chief,” the military policeman forced out in a hoarse, strained voice, as grating as a broken bellows, “Yes, Private Kobayashi.”

"He saw no hope, so he grabbed a bomb and detonated it." (End of Chapter)