Anti-Japanese War: From Becoming Chu Yunfei to Rising

Yangcheng area, southeastern Shanxi.

In an ordinary village called "Shimo Village".

The afternoon sun, warm and gentle, shone on the threshing floor.

It is a harvest season, and the smiles on the villagers' faces are as bright and genuine as the full ears of wheat that came before.

only.

This tranquility and joy were quickly shattered by a rapid, loud gong sound.

"Clang! Clang! Clang—!"

"Everyone out! Everyone out!"

"The village chief and the officials from above have something important to announce!"

The young men in the village ran back and forth through the streets and alleys, banging gongs and shouting at the top of their lungs.

Upon hearing the noise, the villagers came out of their courtyards, and almost everyone gathered with curiosity towards the threshing ground under the big locust tree at the village entrance.

"Have people from above arrived?"

"I guess there's something to announce?"

"I heard the fighting was fierce, so it probably isn't anything good."

"You're always talking nonsense. Didn't you win another great victory?"

"They kept winning battles, but the war never ended. Didn't the Japanese still occupy so much territory?"

"At least the Japanese can't invade our southeastern Shanxi. In the last two years, the Japanese planes haven't flown over either."

"Yes, compared to people in other places, at least no one here will starve to death. It's practically a paradise on earth. So many people would envy us!"

Soon, the entire threshing ground was filled with a dense crowd of people.

People whispered among themselves, discussing the matter, wondering what major event had occurred.

The village chief was a dark-skinned, weathered old man who was considered quite respected in the area due to his seniority.

Standing on a makeshift earthen platform.

Beside him stood a young man wearing a gray Zhongshan suit and glasses.

This is a village cadre sent down from the county; his surname is Wang.

Almost every village has such a resident cadre to promote policies.

"Folks!"

"Quiet down! Quiet down!"

The old village elder struck the gong in his hand forcefully. After the scene quieted down a bit, he cleared his throat and said loudly, "I've called everyone here today because there's something extremely important I need to tell you all."

He glanced at the cadre Wang beside him, then took a deep breath, as if he had made a great decision, and announced the news that would shock everyone.

"Starting today! Our village will begin collecting surplus grain!"

"What? Requisition surplus grain?"

The crowd erupted into chaos instantly, like a boiler boiling over.

"Village chief! You're not mistaken, are you? What does 'collecting surplus grain' mean?"

"Yes! Wasn't this land supposed to be our own? Why are we being requisitioned grain?"

"Didn't I hear on the radio just a couple of days ago that we won a great victory in Handan?"

"Why are you asking us, the common people, for food after winning the battle? Is this a victory or a defeat?"

Questions and complaints arose one after another.

The smiles on the villagers' faces vanished without a trace.

Instead, there was deep confusion, bewilderment, and a barely perceptible sense of panic.

They remembered the exorbitant taxes and levies of the past.

Those dark days of forced taxation and extortion.

Are we going to go back to the old ways after only a few years of good times?
The situation was about to spiral out of control.

Wang, the cadre, had remained silent the entire time.

He stepped forward, bowed deeply to the audience, then picked up a tin megaphone and spoke in his clear and loud voice: "Fellow villagers! Please be quiet! Let me finish speaking!"

His voice seemed to possess a convincing power.

The noisy scene gradually quieted down.

"Folks."

Looking at the doubtful eyes below the stage, Wang, the cadre, said sincerely, "I know that everyone must have many questions and a lot of dissatisfaction right now."

"I assure you all, I will explain this matter to you clearly and thoroughly today!"

"First of all, I want to tell everyone that the great victory at Handan-Anyang is true!"

"We have indeed won a great victory!"

"Let's beat the Japanese so badly they're running for their lives!"

A sparse round of applause broke out from the audience, but most people remained skeptical.

"Then why are we still requisitioning grain?" a bold young man shouted from the crowd.

"Good question!" Officer Wang nodded approvingly: "Young man, you've hit the nail on the head."

"I'll tell you why we're requisitioning grain."

"Because we have recovered vast swathes of land in Henan and Hebei!"

"but."

Wang's voice grew heavy: "What kind of lives are the people in those places living?"

"They have been exploited by the Japanese for so many years!"

"The food in our house was all looted long ago! The land is now abandoned!"

"They don't even have a bite to eat right now! Millions, tens of millions of our compatriots are starving!"

"We are their relatives, their compatriots!"

"Can we just stand by and watch them starve to death?"

His words were reasonable and persuasive, causing many kind-hearted villagers in the audience to lower their heads and fall into silence.

"But you can't take them all."

"Exactly, just take half and that's it. Everyone knows food is valuable these days."

Wang, the cadre, was taken aback and was about to make a promise.

Seeing that things were not going well, the village chief quickly stepped forward and added in his thick local accent, "Yes, folks, what Cadre Wang said is the truth."

"This was an order personally given from above."

"Commander Chu, we all know what kind of person he is."

"He won't treat us ordinary people unfairly."

"He said that this grain requisition is not about looting or demanding."

"It's a loan."

“Each household should leave enough food and enough seeds.”

"We will lend the remaining grain to the country to help our compatriots who are suffering from disasters."

"After the war ends, after we completely drive the Japanese out."

"The country will definitely return this grain to us!"

Wang, the official, immediately added, "To ensure that everyone's lives are not affected, starting next month, we will implement a rationing system for food and daily necessities, based on market towns and county seats!"

"In other words, from now on, everyone's oil, salt, cloth, and coal will be supplied free of charge by the government!"

One requisitions grain, the other distributes it.

One is "out", and the other is "in".

This is the "wartime economy" strategy that Chu Yunfei devised to cope with the current predicament.

The villagers looked at each other.

"Is this coal supplied for free?"

"Oh, and that local salt, is that free too?"

"What Shanxi has in abundance is coal for heating, and even more so, local salt for cooking."

"Please rest assured, fellow villagers, all daily necessities will be provided free of charge, in a fair and just manner!"

"As for winter clothing and cotton-padded coats, we will prioritize supplying them to the front-line combat troops. We hope that the villagers can understand, but the higher-ups have said that we must do our best to ensure their needs are met."

"We fought not only to defend our country, but also to protect our hometown and our fellow villagers from the Japanese invasion."

"Commander Fang also said in his telegram that victory is just ahead, and this is just the last darkness before dawn!"

The people were restless, whispering among themselves.

"Commander Chu is a man of his word; he has never lied to us."

"After using these three or four years of affordable coal, the taxes we pay are less than half of what they used to be. Commander Chu is definitely right."

"Something serious must have happened, otherwise how could this be?"

"We'll hand it over. We trust Commander Chu and believe that our army will definitely win the battle."

The southeastern part of Shanxi is arguably the most representative region in Shanxi at present.

The people here are among the wealthiest in the entire province.

They suffered almost no invasions or looting by the Japanese, and were able to accumulate a considerable amount of grain each year.

In places like Shanxi and Shaanxi, where food is the staple food, every household has a "savings account".

The policy has since changed.

Although the people felt some reluctance, their strongest resistance was gradually replaced by a sense of kinship and anticipation for the future.

Cadre Wang raised his right hand and said, "Fellow villagers, tighten your belts now. Once we defeat the Japanese, you will all be able to live a good life."

"Yes, folks, our good days are yet to come!"

Such scenes are playing out almost everywhere.

Of course, there were also people who did not understand the policy of requisitioning surplus grain.

However, these people are a very small minority.

The vast majority of ordinary people can understand the current situation and the difficulties they face.

Plus.

There are training centers in most places, and each county has at least one company of troops. They are used for disaster relief and emergency response, and to deal with possible air raids. Armed with weapons and equipment, they have a certain degree of coercive power and can easily suppress riots.

at the same time.

Tokyo, Shitamachi Ward.

The cold autumn wind swirled up fallen leaves and dust from the street corner, blowing them into the dark and damp alley.

The dilapidated wooden door of the Tanaka family's house was violently slammed open with a "bang".

Two conscription officers, dressed in civilian clothes and wearing "Military Affairs" armbands, walked in expressionlessly.

Behind them followed two armed military police.

The lead recruiting officer asked in an unquestionable, icy tone, "Which one is Tanaka Nobuo?"

Tanaka Nobuo, who was in the corner mending his youngest daughter Hanako's old cotton-padded jacket with rags, suddenly stiffened.

He slowly raised his head, his face, sallow from long-term malnutrition, filled with terror and disbelief.

"I am"

The conscription officer pulled a conscription order stamped with a red seal from his briefcase and threw it in front of him: "Very good."

"According to the Empire's newly promulgated National Mobilization Law, you, Tanaka Nobuo, have now been formally conscripted into the army."

"Come with us now!"

"what?"

Chiyo, the wife standing to the side, was thunderstruck upon hearing this.

Holding her equally trembling daughter in her arms, she suddenly knelt down on the ground with a thud. "Sir! Sir! Please, have mercy!"

Her voice was filled with a desperate plea: "My husband, he's almost forty!"

"His health isn't good either! How can he go to war as an soldier!"

"and"

Chiyo pointed to the small, simple memorial tablet in the corner of the wall, sobbing uncontrollably, "Our eldest son, Ichiro, just three months ago, died for His Majesty the Emperor on the battlefield in China!"

She thought that this tearful accusation would elicit a sliver of sympathy.

However, the recruiting officer remained unmoved.

He merely glanced coldly at the memorial tablet, his tone growing increasingly icy: "To be loyal to His Majesty the Heavenly Locust is the highest honor for every citizen of the empire."

"Your son is a hero."

"Now, it is his father's turn to inherit his glory."

He waved impatiently at the military police behind him.

"What are you waiting for? Take him away!"

Two military police officers immediately stepped forward and roughly lifted the still-dazed Tanaka Nobuo off the ground, as if dragging livestock.

"No! No! Let go of my husband! Let him go!"

Chiyo cried out and tried to stop him, but was kicked to the ground without mercy by a conscription officer.

"Go away!"

"If you dare to obstruct official business again, you will be treated as a 'non-citizen'! You will also be sent to the Women's Volunteer Corps (comfort women)!"

"Daddy! Daddy!"

The youngest daughter, Hanako, was so frightened that she cried loudly and clung tightly to her mother's leg.

Tanaka Nobuo finally snapped out of his shock and fear.

He looked at his wife, who was lying on the ground, crying her heart out, and then at his youngest daughter's eyes, which were filled with fear and helplessness.
An unprecedented and immense grief and despair instantly engulfed him completely.

He recalled again the scene three years ago when he sent his eldest son, who was only seventeen years old, healthy, and full of hope for the future, onto a troop transport ship bound for China.

At that time, like all other fathers, he stood on the dock waving the national flag and shouting at the top of his lungs, "Long live His Majesty the Heavenly Locust!"

Tanaka Nobuo felt immensely honored that his son was about to embark on a "holy war" to "expand the empire's territory."

He thought his son would return in triumph, bringing glory and honor.

But in the end, all he received was a cold death notice.

And a meager pension, barely enough for a family to eat for a month.

Now, it's his turn.

He was a middle-aged man nearing forty-five, frail and sickly.

They too will be thrown into that meat grinder called "war" to become new cannon fodder.

does it worth?
For that lofty, unseen locust?

For those incredibly appealing slogans in the newspapers like "Hakkō Ichiyū" and "Dai-Toa Kōen"?
Nobuo Tanaka looked at his hands, calloused from years of hard work, yet still powerless to protect his family.

Looking at this home, I realize it's a place where even the most basic needs for food and clothing can't be met.

Looking out the window at that once "prosperous" empire, now desolate and decaying.

An unprecedented and immense sense of absurdity, and anger at being deceived, welled up inside him.

"Let me go! I'm not going! I'm not going!"

Tanaka Nobuo began to struggle frantically, making a final, futile resistance with his body, which had long been hollowed out by hunger.

But his response was the cold butt of a military policeman's rifle.

"boom!"

There was a muffled sound.

Tanaka Nobuo felt a sharp pain in the back of his head, and then everything went black before he lost consciousness completely.

When he woke up again.

He found himself inside a rickety, stuffy military truck.

The carriage was packed with "new recruits" just like him, their faces numb and their eyes vacant.

Most of them were middle-aged, and some were even elderly people with gray hair.

They were once workers, farmers, small shop owners, and pillars of their families.

Now they all share one common name: cannon fodder.

truck.

Driving through familiar streets.

Tanaka Nobuo took one last look at his low, dilapidated wooden hut through the gap in the carriage.

He seemed to see his wife, Chiyo, holding their little daughter, Hanako.

She knelt at the door of the wooden house, silently weeping in the direction he had gone.

He knew that once he left, the family would be completely destroyed.

He's gone.

How will they continue to survive in this already desolate land, where the people are becoming increasingly fanatical?

Two lines of murky tears.

Tears silently slid from Nobuo Tanaka's empty eye sockets.

He didn't know where his future lay, or how his family would survive.

All he knew was that the empire he had once loved so deeply, and for which he had given a son, was decaying and dying.

The sun is about to set!

Tokyo, Imperial Palace, Fukiage Gyoen.

The atmosphere was somber and heavy.

Emperor Hirohito, dressed in the uniform of a Grand Marshal, sat solemnly behind a chrysanthemum-patterned curtain.

In front of him was a gleaming black lacquered wooden table.

There were no memorials to the emperor, nor any tea or snacks.

There was only a newspaper lying there quietly.

A copy of the Guanghua Daily from Xi'an, Shaanxi Province.

The headline on the front page of the newspaper.

The same event was reported using shocking, even utterly humiliating, headlines in Chinese characters.

[General Okamura, the long-distance runner, recovered 300 li in three days;]

The locust army's "divine might" astonished the world, but their defeat in one battle was swift and devastating!

Below the title was even a highly satirical cartoon.

In the painting, a short Japanese officer wearing glasses, who looks very much like Okamura Yasuji, is carrying a bag and sweating profusely as he flees in panic towards Beiping.

Behind him stood the towering figure of a resolute Chinese soldier.

The officer was looking down on the fleeing men with disdain.

This newspaper somehow managed to get its way to Tokyo.

Even the Tokyo Asahi Shimbun, which has always been closely aligned with the military.

In a corner of its international section, the newspaper quoted parts of this report in a relatively "objective" tone.

The entire upper class of Japan was shaken.

From behind the curtain came the Emperor's calm, yet utterly cold voice: "Your Excellency Prime Minister, is this the 'stability' on the North China front that you assured me of?"

Prime Minister Hideki Tojo, wearing a crisp army general's uniform.

Like a javelin, they stood respectfully not far away.

His head was bowed deeply.

This prevented Hirohito from seeing the expression on his face.

"His Majesty."

Hideki Tojo's voice was hoarse but steady: "Although General Yasuji Okamura suffered a minor setback, his command was flawless."

He himself knew that Hirohito was not asking about simple military considerations, but about the political significance behind them.

This refers to the so-called continuous, face of the entire Great Japan.

"No one in the entire Imperial Army can match Okamura's talent and command ability," Tojo Hideki continued to argue. "The defeat in Handan was not a failure of the army. It was due to the Chinese army's cunning and the massive aid they received from the United States and the Soviet Union, making them much stronger than before."

"With the help of countries such as the United States and the Soviet Union, they completed the reverse engineering of automatic weapons at an extremely fast pace, which exceeded all our expectations."

Although the Japanese intelligence agencies were formidable, they were not capable of infiltrating even the heavily guarded arsenals.

"and"

Hideki Tojo abruptly changed the subject, his tone turning sinister: "Okamura-kun's 'retreat' is also to preserve strength and retain the vitality for our brother's country to fight again."

He knew he had to protect Okamura Yasuji.

Because protecting Okamura Yasuji meant protecting himself, and preserving his last vestige of dignity as the "war prime minister."

However, a cold, soft snort came from behind the curtain.

"Humph."

Hirohito's voice finally carried a hint of obvious displeasure: "Then, in your opinion, Prime Minister, how should the military explain this 'minor setback' to the people, to those who have sacrificed their sons and husbands for this 'holy war'?"

Hideki Tojo's heart sank suddenly.

He knew that the most crucial moment had arrived.

Those eyes, which always shone with fanaticism and obsession, now burned with a devilish light.

He took a step forward, his voice lowering to a whisper, like the flicking tongue of a viper, full of allure and wickedness: "Your Majesty."

"In my opinion, conventional warfare is no longer able to completely destroy the Chinese people's will to resist."

"It is time to launch our true 'holy war'."

Clearly, Hirohito also knew what Hideki Tojo was thinking.

However, doing so carries extremely high risks and could easily lead to retribution after the war.

Even if he held a high position, he could still very well be hanged on the execution platform.

as predicted.

Hirohito remained silent behind the curtain.

But Hideki Tojo disregarded all that; he could no longer see any hope of winning the war through conventional means.

He decided to stick to his guns and continue to offer advice!

"Your Majesty, do you still remember those epidemic prevention and water supply troops that were built before?"

"In recent years, due to a large number of human experiments, various teams have achieved groundbreaking results."

"The production capacity of our several research institutes is also gradually increasing, and many institutes are already able to produce more than ten kilograms of pathogens per month."

Hideki Tojo paused, then a morbid, excited smile appeared on his lowered face: "For the Chinese army, which lacks military science, and for the Chinese people, this is divine punishment!"

“They are so ignorant that they will never realize that this is something we did, and they will just think of it as an ordinary plague.”

"We only need to conduct appropriate propaganda to make many ignorant people believe that this is a punishment imposed by heaven on those inferior races who dare to resist our Yamato race!"

"If we send out a special operations team to quietly spread these 'divine wills' across the Central Plains, we will achieve unexpected results."

"At that time, the plague will rage and the land will be deserted for thousands of miles."

"The Chinese army's offensive will collapse on its own!"

"Their soldiers will die screaming in pain and fear!"

"Their country will rot and collapse from within!"

"And we will win this 'holy war' without shedding a drop of blood!" (End of Chapter)