You are ordered to support the War of Resistance against Japan; China enters Level 1 combat readines

A new offensive by the Japanese has begun!

At the foot of the mountain, layers of earthy yellow waves surged up, the sounds of gunfire, shouts of battle, and artillery fire mingling together like a pot of boiling blood.

On a distant hilltop, a Nationalist Army colonel held up binoculars, his hand trembling slightly.

In the footage, his soldiers are fighting desperately.

A machine gunner, his shoulder pierced by a bullet, was still pulling the trigger; two soldiers, bayonets at their sides, charged out of the trench and engaged in a fierce battle with five or six Japanese soldiers; and a company commander, covered in blood, stood at the edge of the trench, throwing grenades down and cursing as he did so.

They're all great.

But they couldn't hold on any longer.

"Commander!" The staff officer beside him said in a hoarse voice, his eyes bloodshot. "The neighboring units have lost their positions! Our flanks are completely exposed! Let's fight them!"

"spell?"

The colonel put down his binoculars and slowly shook his head.

The expression on his face was strange—not fear, not anger, but an indescribable weariness and mockery.

"If you want to fight, then fight."

The staff officer was stunned.

The colonel ignored him and turned to look in another direction—northwest.

That area is deep within the Zhongtiao Mountains, and should have been the position of the Fourth Army Group.

It should have been.

But where is the Fourth Army now?

Damn it, they're on guard against the Eighth Route Army.

"If the old man hadn't transferred the Fourth Group to defend against the Eighth Route Army, things wouldn't have come to this! Things wouldn't have come to this!" the colonel roared.

The Fourth Army Group—that's the iron pillar of Zhongtiao Mountain!

And yet, at this crucial moment, he was transferred away?

Would you believe it if I told you?

The colonel suddenly laughed, a laugh that sounded worse than crying.

"If those above don't care, why should I risk my life?"

He turned his head and looked at the soldiers who were still fighting fiercely. His gaze swept over them and finally landed on the staff officer's face.

"As long as my brothers are still here, where can't I have fun?"

The staff officer opened his mouth as if to say something, but didn't say anything.

The colonel understood his look.

"You mean I'm afraid of death?" he sneered. "Afraid of death? I fought my way from Shanghai to Nanjing, from Nanjing to Taiyuan. I have more bullet holes in my body than you've ever seen in your life! Afraid of death?"

He pointed to the earthen-yellow figures below the mountain.

"But look at this, is this war? This is suicide! Four divisions are fighting against two of our army groups, where are the reinforcements? Have the higher-ups even considered our lives?"

The staff officer remained silent.

"Withdraw!" the colonel commanded decisively, waving his hand.

"Commander..."

"Withdraw!" The colonel stared at him. "Pass down the order: the entire regiment retreats. Take what you can, and abandon what you can't. Quickly!"

The staff officer stood still, his lips moved, but in the end he turned around and ran towards the position.

The soldiers on the position were stunned when the order was given.

A machine gunner was firing downhill with a belt of ammunition when he heard the messenger's words. His hand trembled, and the bullet went astray.

"Retreat?" His eyes widened. "Retreat now?"

"Yes, Commander-in-Chief's order is for the entire regiment to retreat!"

"But...but..." The machine gunner pointed to the left, "The 7th Regiment is still holding them off over there! If we retreat, their entire flank will be exposed! Wouldn't that be selling them out?"

The messenger remained silent.

He couldn't say.

Another soldier, his face half-covered in blood, had just crawled out of the trench. Hearing the word "retreat," he paused for a moment, then laughed.

His smile was bitter.

"Alright, let's retreat." He slung his gun over his shoulder, took two steps, then looked back at the Japanese soldiers below the mountain. "Brothers, I'm sorry."

The squad leader next to him grabbed him by the collar: "What the hell are you saying? You're just leaving like that? What about the Seventh Regiment? What about the Third Battalion?"

The soldier didn't struggle; he just looked at him.

"Squad leader, what do you suggest we do?"

The squad leader loosened his grip.

He didn't know what to do.

They were all soldiers, and military orders were absolute.

If the regimental commander orders them to retreat, they must retreat! Refusing to retreat is disobeying orders and will be punished by military law.

If we retreat, what will happen to the brothers who are still fighting desperately?

No one can answer.

The retreat has begun.

At first, there were only a few scattered soldiers, crouching and running backward. Later, it grew to a dozen or so, then dozens, and finally the entire position was retreating.

Some people ran while looking back at the positions that were still holding out. Some people squatted down and hugged their heads, whether they were crying or cursing, no one knew. Others simply threw away their guns and stumbled down the slope, not caring about anything.

The machine gunner was the last to leave.

He emptied his ammunition belt, slammed the machine gun to the ground, and glanced down the mountain—the yellowish-brown waves were almost reaching the front line of the position, and he could even see the ferocious faces of the Japanese soldiers.

"Damn it."

He cursed and ran away.

The first domino fell.

On the nearby positions, some people saw them retreat, paused for a moment, and then began to retreat as well.

The positions next to it were also withdrawn.

One regiment withdrew, and another regiment began to consider the same thing.

Some hesitated, some were already packing, and some didn't even wait for orders, just leading their people to run away.

Like dominoes, the more they fall, the more there are.

It collapses at the first touch.

Vulnerable.

. . .

Of course, some don't run away.

Third Army, Commander Tang.

He led his remaining troops to defend a hilltop, from morning till night, and from night till dawn. The Japanese attacked seven times, and he and his men fought back each time.

During the eighth charge, he had only a dozen or so men left, and he was out of bullets.

He picked up a bayonet from the ground, looked at the Japanese soldiers surging up the mountain, and suddenly laughed.

"Brothers," he said, "our lives have been worthwhile."

He rushed down the hillside, his bayonet piercing the chest of a Japanese soldier, while he was simultaneously stabbed through the body by three bayonets.

Commander Tang died for his country.

Commander Wu of the 98th Army.

He led his troops in a breakout attempt, failing three times. Finally, they were surrounded in a small ravine, with Japanese soldiers on all sides.

His chief of staff advised him: "Commander, change your clothes and blend in with the brothers. Maybe you can break through."

Commander Wu glanced at him but didn't say anything.

He straightened his uniform, put his hat on properly, and then led the last two hundred men in a charge against the Japanese.

Two hundred people versus two thousand people.

The charge lasted for ten minutes.

Commander Wu died in battle.

Twelfth Division, Commander Cun.

He held his ground, refusing to retreat an inch. The Japanese attacked from morning until noon, and from noon until evening, but they couldn't take it.

In the evening, a shell landed beside him.

His leg was blown off, and blood was everywhere.

The orderly cried and tried to carry him away, but he pushed the orderly away and picked up a pistol from the ground.

"Let's go," he said.

"Commander!"

"Walk!"

The orderly left, and he lay prone on the position, supporting himself with one leg, continuing to fire his pistol.

After the gunfire stopped, the Japanese soldiers rushed onto the position and found him still alive. A Japanese officer walked over and asked him in broken Chinese, "Surrender?"

He glanced at the officer and spat out a mouthful of blood.

Enraged, the Japanese soldiers drew their swords.

Commander Cun died for his country.

……