Comrade, your ingredients are too complicated.

As the absolute trump card in this battle of Shimen, the logistical support capabilities of the 77th Division can only be described as unfathomable.

Even in the final stages of the battle, the assault guns and Landstorm mortars directly under its command still had ample ammunition. The shells from medium and large caliber mortars could even kill the remnants of the Independent Mixed Brigade.

No sooner had Cheng Shifa given the order than the artillery regiment commander suddenly waved his hand.

In an instant, the roar of engines tore through the battlefield as three PTZ-42 assault guns rolled over rubble and debris, joining five half-track armored vehicles as they drove into the artillery position.

The twelve 120mm mortars were set up in just three minutes, their dark barrels raised neatly under the illumination of the flares, ready to unleash their full power at the command.

"Comrades! Have you all heard the commander-in-chief's orders clearly?"

"Next, let's fire three rounds of rapid fire to clear the way for the infantry comrades, and then let the people of Shimen hear the strength of our Eighth Route Army artillery!"

"Everyone, release them!"

As soon as he finished speaking, the artillery regimental commander waved his command flag.

Artillery of all calibers and types exploded almost simultaneously, with shells of different trajectories drawing countless fiery streaks in the air before all of them accurately crashing into the headquarters compound of the Independent Mixed Brigade No. 39.

"Boom boom boom!"

In an instant, most of the Shimen City was illuminated as if it were daytime.

This sun, forged by the artillery fire of the Eighth Route Army, heralded the end of an old era and the arrival of a new dawn.

"Blow the trumpet!"

"attack!"

As the bugler sounded the resounding charge, four companies of elite infantry poured out from behind their bunkers like a flood bursting its banks. The soldiers deployed in three-man formations, charging with unwavering momentum towards the final victory point.

The surviving Japanese soldiers huddled among the ruins, and the sporadic shots from their Type 38 rifles were quickly drowned out by the volleys of submachine gun fire.

The Japanese lieutenant, his face covered in blood, had just raised the Nambu 14th Type rifle, but before he could even hear the sound of it jamming, he was hit in the chest by more than ten 7.65mm bullets at the same time.

······
Inside the basement, Hideo Yano knelt on the tatami mats of the artillery shelter, his military sword lying across his knees, the blade reflecting the light of the last emergency light.

Seppuku, especially without a second, is a decision that requires a firm resolve. The old Japanese soldier now finally understands why his former colleagues hesitated.

"Your Majesty the Heavenly Locust," Yano Hideo murmured hoarsely, gripping his military sword tightly with both hands, the cord wrapped around the hilt already soaked with cold sweat.

"Long live His Majesty the Heavenly Locust! Long live the great Japanese nation!"

Just as the old Japanese soldier gritted his teeth, stamped his foot, and pressed the tip of his knife against his abdomen, a metallic twisting sound like steel bars breaking suddenly came from above his head, and the ceiling collapsed with a crash.

At that moment, the entire basement was like a shattered cardboard box, with steel bars and concrete fragments crashing down like an avalanche.

There was no other way. When the Independent Mixed Brigade 39th was building the anti-artillery bunkers, they never thought they would face heavy rocket artillery fire. These underground fortifications were simply no match for the 280mm rockets.

Soon, a broken steel bar pierced diagonally into Hideo Yano's right leg, pinning the old Japanese soldier to the spot.

Misfortunes never come singly; his left leg was also crushed by the collapsed reinforced concrete, leaving it a bloody mess, with white bone fragments even piercing through the officer's trousers.

Caught off guard, Hideo Yano's military sword was knocked from his hand and fell with a clatter under the wooden table.

"what!!!"

A heart-wrenching scream exploded in the confined space, and the Japanese major general's body convulsed violently like a live fish nailed to a dissection board.

His right hand fingers dug deep into the concrete debris, his nails cracked and bleeding, but he still couldn't reach the military knife two meters away.

Fortunately, the reinforced roof of the underground fortification was currently positioned about 50 centimeters above Hideo Yano's head, forming a seemingly stable survival triangle.

"Baka!"

A hoarse curse, mixed with blood and foam, spilled from the corner of his mouth.

The old Japanese soldier wanted to commit seppuku, but the steel bars nailed him to the ground like a specimen. With each movement, the steel bars pierced deeper.

The old Japanese soldier wanted to fire, but his Type 14 Nambu pistol was buried under the rubble, and besides, no one could guarantee that the broken weapon would still be working properly.

He had considered biting his tongue to commit suicide and suffocating himself. But his mutilated body betrayed him; the instinct for survival kept causing his tongue to retract.

Just as Yano Hideo was in despair, the sound of shovels digging came from afar, and the northern accents of the 77th Division soldiers grew closer.

The Japanese major general suddenly laughed, the sound of which made the steel bars sway between his bones and flesh.

To his utter surprise, he himself became a living trophy, a worm nailed to a specimen board, where even death became a luxury.

He could only listen to the enemy's footsteps, like a mouse, waiting for the humiliation of being captured alive.

······
About an hour and a half later, the 77th Division's engineer company finally broke through the underground fortifications of the 39th Independent Mixed Brigade. The last reinforced concrete barrier collapsed with a roar, raising a cloud of dust that blotted out the sky.

"Watch out for a second collapse! Don't panic, everyone, the old devil's life isn't worth much!"

Digging through the rubble in ninety minutes is a really fast pace.

After all, the comrades had to build a support frame while excavating. If it were the old purely manual operation, it would have been impossible to complete the task in less than several hours.

Seeing that the main passage was unobstructed, Cheng Shifa dusted off the dust on his military overcoat, stepped over dangerous steel bars, and prepared to go inside to explore.

Back then, he took the lead and found Yoshio Iwamatsu's body and samurai sword.

But the moment Cheng the Blind stepped into the ruins of the bomb shelter, he froze.

Inside the cave, a steel bar about the thickness of a thumb was seen, slanted down from where the ceiling used to be, pinning a strange creature to the ground like a javelin.

If it weren't for the fact that he could still see the chest rising and falling slightly with each breath, he would hardly believe that this was once a human being.

When the beam of the military flashlight swept across the strange creature, Cheng Shifa noticed that its dilated pupils suddenly contracted, and its torn lips moved, emitting sounds that were not human.

"Kill me, then finish me off with a shot."

Seeing this, Blind Cheng's lips curled into a smile. He first tossed a samurai sword from the trash, then squatted down next to Hideo Yano, and said in a teasing tone:
"Yano Hideo, is it? Why didn't you commit seppuku? Were you too scared? Is your Bushido just about letting you lie here like a dead dog?"

At this point, he took a file folder from the chief of staff, the kraft paper making a harsh rustling sound in the deathly silence. "By the way, our Eighth Route Army has collected a lot of evidence against you. If this evidence were presented in a military court, the lightest sentence would be hanging."

“I’ve heard that some people were hung for 12 minutes and 30 seconds before they died, and some even lasted for 17 minutes. I’m curious how long you can last.”

"Pass on my order: do everything in your power to save this old devil's life, at least let him live for another year! I want this beast to see with his own eyes the day the red flag is planted at the Tokyo Imperial Palace."

"Yes!"

······
January 4, 1943, 6:30 a.m.

After a night of clearing, the Battle of Shimen gradually came to an end, with only a few Japanese soldiers remaining in the city fighting guerrilla warfare against the soldiers.

It has to be said that the quality of the Japanese soldiers at their peak was truly astounding; they could hold out against all odds without unified command or supplies. If this had happened in France in 1940, the soldiers would have surrendered en masse long ago.

An hour later, the soldiers of the four divisions, together with the local people, completely wiped out the Japanese troops from the city.

Commanders and soldiers from various units gathered at Zhengtai Hotel, cheering and jumping for joy outside the semi-ruined restaurant.

Seeing Cheng Shifa gripping his general's sword, Li Ju, Wang Jin, and Qin Ji walked over together. Sensing his sullen expression, Li spoke first:
"Blind Cheng, the troops just won a battle, why are you looking so mournful? If the reporters from Guopu take a picture of this, they'll probably make up some big news."

"Cheer up, cheer up! You're the first combat hero to recapture a city in Hebei Province. If you don't take the lead, the comrades won't dare to celebrate."

No sooner had he finished speaking than a hearty laugh came from behind. Everyone turned around and saw the brigade commander and the skinny staff officer approaching side by side.

"Yeah, why are you looking so down? The 77th Division won a great victory this time. I've already sent the news of the victory back to the border region, and I expect your commendation telegram will arrive soon."

"In addition, Lao Zhou also passed on the details of your command."

"From today onwards, your reputation as a 'sex-star' and 'urban warfare expert' will spread throughout the entire army."

The praise from his former leader brought a hint of joy to Cheng Shifa's face, and the corners of his mouth involuntarily turned up.

It would be a great joy to have one's tactics promoted throughout the entire army. Moreover, with two new titles, one would feel more confident when seeing the old sergeant next time.

However, upon thinking about the next arrangements for the border region, he immediately wilted like a frostbitten eggplant.

After much hesitation, Cheng Shifa mustered his courage and tentatively asked:

"Brigade Commander, I just looked at the map. The troops should be attacking Bei and Tian cities next."

“These two cities are even larger than Shimen, and the garrison is a direct unit of the North China Front Army, far more elite than the 39th Independent Mixed Brigade. Perhaps I should stay and continue fighting.”

"Anyway, Lao Hu isn't in a big hurry, so it won't make a difference if we take ten or eight days."

Upon hearing this, the brigade commander was immediately embarrassed and at a loss for what to do.

Now, the name "Vietnam Alliance" feels like a fishbone, making his throat tighten every time it's mentioned. If Huang He hadn't intervened in time, he might be hospitalized now due to a heart attack from anger.

Thinking of this, a sense of guilt welled up inside me. After all, it was my old subordinate who had genuinely suffered for me.

Seemingly sensing his old partner's embarrassment, the skinny staff officer coughed lightly and broke the silence.

"Yes, I'll make the decision. Given Comrade Cheng Shifa's tactical value in the Shimen Campaign, I will suggest to the Border Region and Headquarters that he participate in the preparations for the Northern and Tian Campaigns."

"Special cases require special handling. At this critical juncture of a major battle, the troops cannot be without an urban warfare expert."

"As for the Viet Minh, let's give our rubber tycoon Ding Wei a hard time."

······
That noon, in Baiyangdian, central Hebei.

At the same time that the brigade commander led his troops to launch a fierce attack on Shimen and Baoding, the comrades of the Eighth Route Army Logistics Department had already established dozens of supply lines in Hebei Province.

As the saying goes, "An army marches on its stomach."

To ensure that the more than 20 divisions on the main battlefield had sufficient supplies, Zhang Wanhe and his team set out ahead of the main force, leading the people of central Hebei to build roads and bridges, working enthusiastically for more than half a month.

In just over ten days, the logistics department led 570,000 troops to build more than 5,000 kilometers of new roads and reinforce more than 500 bridges.

Even the frozen Daqing River was forcibly carved out for more than 160 kilometers.

"Hey! Hey!"

"Fellow villagers, let's work harder! The waterway to Tianjin is only a few dozen miles away!"

At Zhang Wanhe's command, thousands of ice axes were raised simultaneously and slammed heavily onto the ice.

With a series of synchronized clicks, glistening ice shards flew up, refracting a rainbow of colors in the morning sun, like countless diamond fragments scattered across the sky.

Someone started it, and a familiar Hebei folk song rang out from the crowd. At first, it was just a few scattered hums, but in the blink of an eye, it turned into a chorus of thousands of people.

Amidst the powerful singing, the icebreaker slowly advanced, puffing out black smoke. The bright red slogan on its hull, "Strike into Kita and Amagi, capture Okamura Yasuji alive," was particularly eye-catching in the sunlight.

Before long, it was noon.

The field kitchen crew from the logistics department arrived at the shore carrying steaming hot food.

The villagers on the ice took turns resting in twos and threes. Zhang Wanhe was finally able to take off his cotton hat, lean against a big tree on the shore for a short rest, and eat stewed pork with cabbage and rice.

Seemingly noticing that Old Zhang's movements were a bit awkward, a young man who looked to be about ten years old quickly put down his stroller, took the dog, and ran over with great speed.

“Hey, Minister Zhang, why won’t you listen to advice? You’re over forty years old, why do you have to be so stubborn?”

“If anything happens to you, we’ll lose our pillar of support! Come, come, let me help you to the tent to rest. You’ll feel better if you warm yourself by the fire.”

Upon hearing this, Zhang Wanhe put down his bowl and chopsticks. A boy wearing a sleeveless sheepskin coat with a wooden slingshot at his waist had already come up in front of him.

"Gazi, why are you always holding the dog? Put it down right now."

"Let me tell you, this is the final step in the recovery of North China. As the Minister of Logistics, I must take the lead and do it personally."

"Alright, don't worry about me. Hurry up and serve the food, I just need to rest a little longer." (End of Chapter)