Comrade, Your Ingredients Are Too Complicated

At this time in the second half of 1942, although Principal Situ had strategic consultations with Master Luo, his identity was still an education person and had not yet officially entered the political arena.

His political talent was not fully activated, and he did not smell the profound meaning in Duan Peng's words for a while, but just thought it was the other party congratulating himself on his escape from the sea of ​​suffering.

After a while of sneering, Situ LD slowly stepped forward as a representative of the Overseas Chinese Autonomous Committee, and tears of gratitude flashed in his eyes.

He took a deep breath and said with a slight trembling voice:

“In those dark days before, we lost our freedom, lost our hope, and even thought we would never see the light again.”

"However, it is you, the heroic Eighth Route Army soldiers, who rescued us from hell. Your courage"

Before the principal could finish his gratitude, the sound of Japanese and French fire fighting suddenly came from the originally quiet dark night. The explosion of gunfire was even mixed with the noise of tracked vehicles traveling.

This shocked the sergeant of the Ugly Navy who was watching, as if everything had returned to the days when they were surrounded and annihilated by the Japanese a few months ago.

Recalling the original Badan death march and thinking of the miserable miserableness in the concentration camp, he shouted in horror:

"Tank! It's the Japanese tank that is approaching! Two, are there any bullets in the cylindrical launcher just now? Do you carry other anti-tank weapons on this trip?"

"The Japanese armored troops are indeed not in line, but light tanks are a major threat to infantry that lacks anti-armor means."

"If there is no support from the cannon, relying solely on masonry and stone fortifications will not stop the enemy's advancement. Once those inhuman beasts are allowed to break in, I'm afraid."

Although the words of the Navy Sergeant of the Chou Kingdom came to an abrupt end, everyone present had already understood the cruelty of the Japanese and could naturally understand the other party's unfinished words.

When the devils were thinking about the bayonet executions and machine gun strafing and other atrocities, the representatives of the Expatriate Autonomous Committee could not hide their panic and were obviously in a state of stress.

At the scene, only the soldiers of the First Brigade of Land War remained calm.

Wei Dayong quickly pushed open the window on the north side of the office and used a telescope to observe the battlefield carefully based on the commanding heights of the building.

It seemed that he had verified some guess in his heart, and soon he returned to everyone with a relaxed look on his face.

"Sergeant Fran, please calm down. You are a soldier who has seen big scenes. How can you be ruined by the enemy?"

"I just observed it carefully and didn't find any light tanks in the 95th style or 97th midfielder. According to my experience in fighting with the Japanese, the 'crawler sound' you hear should be a bicycle."

"And even if there are really tanks, our first land brigade commando can handle it easily."

"The street fighting is a crispy armored unit with thin skin and large filling. Even if Guderian comes in person, he dare not drive the light tank in. You have been locked up for too long, and you don't understand the current situation of the major battlefields, nor do you understand the power of 40 fires."

In terms of understanding the tank, no one present can compare to Wei Dayong. After all, the Land War Brigade has a special organization of the combat mobile company.

Under the influence of his eyes, he discovered the blind spots of things just by thinking a little:

On the battlefield, there was only the metal squeezing sound when the "track" rolled over the dirt road, but there was no low roar of the diesel engine, nor the gears of the gearbox.

Facts have proved that Wei Dayong's guess was completely correct.

The first time I learned that the Overseas Chinese Concentration Camp of Fangzi Allied Powers was occupied by the Eighth Route Army, a Japanese infantry squadron from Dongcheng, Weixian received an order to counterattack.

This group of Japanese soldiers were like snowballs, constantly absorbing armed expatriates and remnants of puppet troops along the way. When they arrived at the concentration camp, their troops had expanded to more than 500.

The so-called crawler traveling sound is actually the movement of the rim hitting the dirt road after the bicycle blows.

Staring at the building complex dormant in the darkness ahead, the Japanese squadron leader Fukushima and Saburo nudged the knife with their right thumb, and the family-born samurai sword slowly unsheathed.

After a moment, he pointed straight at the concentration camp, mobilized in a calm and determined tone:

"You guys, based on the accurate information sent by colleagues, the paratrooper commando that rescued the allied expatriates had only less than a hundred troops."

"Although I have no way of knowing how the Eighth Route Army infiltrated Weixian, I can be sure that they must be light-loaded and their ammunition reserves are likely to be unsustainable."

"Let's rush in and annihilate the enemy!"

"There's a black card! On-board!"

The sound of the onboard was hoarse, as if it activated some switch of the Japanese and puppet troops. They followed their respective team leaders and charged towards the concentration camp with their bright bayonets.

The squadron leader, wearing a military uniform and a white shirt, rushed to the front with a samurai sword high.

Even if the soldiers of the First Brigade of Land War could not see the enemy's face, they could still feel the fanaticism from afar.

"Bang!"

The sniper Mas-40 fired first, and Fukushima and Saburo, the most conspicuous in the crowd, were immediately shot dead, and several team leaders were also killed in the first wave of confrontation.

However, the Japanese in the onboard state were unmoved at all. Under the leadership of several sergeants, they continued to charge with the shooting of large bolts and semi-automatic rifles.

"You guys! The Eighth Route Army's ammunition reserves have already bottomed out, and the attack just now is just the end of its strength!"

"Follow up, don't stop! These Republicans will soon understand how ridiculous it is to struggle dying in front of real warriors! Onboard!"

In the Japanese's perception, the Eighth Route Army would definitely not be able to carry equipment if it wanted to sneak into the city.

After all, since the official launch of Operation No. 1, the entire Weixian Twin Cities have entered a semi-martial law state, and soldiers at each gate have led the puppet troops to guard the situation.

The weapons used by this group of commandos in front of me are likely to be made by pieces of everything and fishing for troubled waters, and their firepower and sustainability are basically a dream.

As long as they can rush into the concentration camp, they can open up the situation with thorns and ammunition, and it will be only a matter of time before they can win the final victory and execute the diaspora.

Just as a sergeant captain was commanding the soldiers and preparing to fight to the death with the Eighth Route Army, a series of machine guns shot tore their fantasies apart.

"Dadadada"

In the dark night, the flames at the muzzle of the machine gun are particularly dazzling. Seven or eight fire snakes suddenly rushed out of the tower, and the unique shooting of the crooked slinger easily tore the Japanese storm-former formation.

A sergeant was still holding a samurai sword high, and the next second a blood mist exploded in his entire chest.

The brick and stone towers used to suppress expatriates in the past have now become a powerful tool to harvest the lives of the original owner.

"Scatter! They all spread out!"

"Everyone will go back, and you will withdraw to the room area!"

Facing the barrage of several light machine guns and semi-automatic rifles, the Japanese turned into puppets one by one, mechanically repeating the tactical actions of crawling, rolling and leaping.

Until the last soldier retreated to the residential area, the gravel road in front of the concentration camp gate was covered with scarlet plasma.

More than sixty incomplete corpses were staged in various twisted postures. "Baga, the information is fake!"

"A group of **** wastes didn't even understand the enemy's organization and equipment before they died. No wonder they were sent to guard the concentration camp by their superiors. It was really a mud that could not be supported on the wall."

After retreating to the safe area, several sergeant captains who survived by luck gathered together to discuss the next offensive plan.

They are just a guardian infantry squadron, and direct-firing weapon of the Type 92 infantry cannon is a luxury. In the absence of smoke bombs, you can only use explosive packs to explode the tower.

Bad news, the offensive channel needs to be piled up by human lives.

Good news, the Japanese are short of everything now, but there is no shortage of people.

Although they left over more than 60 corpses and fled in a panic after a wave of attacks. However, most of the casualties were armed expatriates and puppet troops, and the main infantry did not get hurt.

Just as the sergeants were preparing to assign tasks and organize a new wave of offensives again.

A certain buzzing sound of insects flapping their wings suddenly came from the sky in the distance. At first it was as thin as a fancy spring, but in a blink of an eye it turned into a roar that torn the eardrums.

"Enemy plane! Enemy plane! Hidden!"

The communications soldiers' roars had not yet landed, and hundreds of bullets had swept towards them.

The newest ⊥Xiao⊥Speak⊥Send⊥Six⊥9⊥Book⊥⊥⊥⊥Back⊥⊥⊥⊥!

Amid the soldiers' screams, a sergeant saw the most absurd scene in his life: a thousand dark strange aircraft hovered at a height of 100 meters, and fire flashed across both sides of the abdomen.

"Baga, what is this!"

Soon, the roar of the sergeant Yamamoto was submerged in the metal storm. Under the guidance of the searchlights in the concentration camp tower, these hundreds of people had nowhere to hide.

The fire chains formed by the machine gun swept through like wipers, and the splashing internal organs even painted the walls of the residential area reddish-brown.

How to defend against bullets falling from the sky? Why are there people in the air everywhere?

"Grouter! Seventy degrees of elevation! Fighting against the Eighth Route Army, doing nothing is just waiting to die!"

Under heavy pressure, the devils finally chose to fight to the death.

Although the grenade cannon cannot be air-proof, its maximum shooting angle can be adjusted to 70 degrees. It is better to be a living horse than to do nothing.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

After a few crisp sounds, the three-door Type 89 grenade launcher fired shells at the unknown aircraft in the air with the hope of all the Japanese.

I don’t know if it was because the blind cat met a dead mouse or the soldiers who were well-trained in the grenade launcher, but one of the three shells really hit the target.

It’s a pity that the Japanese are still too naive.

In the eyes of everyone, the aircraft numbered 001 suddenly turned sideways and made a horizontal move that violated physical common sense. Immediately afterwards, it threw a bundle of cluster grenades downward in the form of a battle.

"boom!"

The remaining Japanese troops completely collapsed. Some of them fled around in vain, and some of them pulled the trigger frantically at the aircraft in the air.

But no matter what action is, the Japanese cannot get rid of the fate of being completely destroyed.

······

Quancheng, Operation 1 Battle Command.

In just one month, Okamura Yasuji gradually became exhausted from the beginning.

At first, the old Japanese commanded a total of ten divisions and deployed every move confidently, as if victory was right in front of us.

However, as the battle situation took a sharp turn, his confidence was shattered. The consecutive defeats from the front line were like sharp blades, ruthlessly piercing into his heart.

Okamura's eyes were no longer sharp, but were replaced by deep fatigue and confusion.

Every night, the old Japanese would sit alone in the dim command room, igniting cigarettes one by one. He didn't understand why the fourth phase of Huangpu is so powerful.

"Hissergeant Commander, Lt. Xiao Yang Ying Sen came to call. On his way to Jiaolai Plain, the 11th Division was frequently attacked by the First Marine Brigade of the Eighth Route Army."

"That group of enemies has a large number of militia and guerrillas, and every attack is based on the advantage of the terrain."

"Once the 11th Division dispatches a large number of troops to pursue, they will also call for air support to allow near-ground support troops to help cut off the rear."

"At the moment when railways, highways and bridges in central Shandong are all destroyed, Lieutenant General Yingsen will not be able to lead a team to arrive at the receiving location on time."

Silence, death-like silence.

After hearing the report from his chief of staff, Okamura Yasuji remained silent and just kept smoking.

In the smoke, the old Japanese felt as if he was trapped in an invisible net, and the more he struggled, the less power he was.

"Hey, tell Lieutenant General Ying Senxiao. No matter how many difficulties there are, his 11th Division must arrive in Liaolan Town on time."

"If the retreating rear route is cut off by the Eighth Route Army, then the first, second, the eighth and fourteenth infantry, plus the 23rd mechanization, a total of five divisions will be complete."

"For the sake of being the Kwantung Army, he must bring his brothers."

As soon as he finished speaking, another sound of footsteps suddenly came from outside the combat conference room. The visitor seemed to have something urgent, and he rushed in without even calling him.

"General Okamura, something big is not good!"

"Weixian and Liaolan Town have both been lost. The former was conquered by the main force of the First Marine Brigade of the Eighth Route Army, and the Allied Overseas Chinese in the city were also rescued by Li Yunlong's troops."

"The latter was occupied by the First Division of the Eighth Route Army Shandong Provincial Military Region. At present, our main force in the battle cannot withdraw from the Jiaolai Plain at all."

As soon as these words came out, the old Japanese widened his eyes in disbelief.

Fast, it's too fast.

The fourth phase of Huangpu seemed to have seen through everything in advance, and his deployment was always led by the other party.

At this moment, his heart seemed to be hollowed out, leaving only endless fatigue and despair.

After a moment, Okamura Yanji, who finally recovered, slowly got up. He picked up a document from his desk, and there were a few big words written on the cover: Internal combustion engine plan.

"Transfer my orders to let all the main forces of the battle abandon all heavy weapons and retreat northward along the Jiaolai River."

"I will mobilize all available ships, including warships, merchant ships, fishing boats and even private boats, to go to the ports of the bay to rescue the five trapped divisions!." (End of this chapter)