You were tasked with guarding the Sihang Warehouse, and you brought out a Tiger tank?

It's raining in Shanghai.

Cold rain.

It was as if the heavens couldn't stop urinating, and the rain kept pouring down.

Lin Feng trudged through the ankle-deep mud into the core area of ​​the North Station.

Everywhere you look, there are broken walls and ruins.

The once bustling transportation hub is now just a huge concrete skeleton, with steel bars exposed like twisted intestines.

Teams of stretcher bearers are evacuating people from the ruins.

On the stretchers, most of the wounded soldiers were already lifeless, and the few who were still alive could only make faint groans.

They were wrapped in bandages stained with blood and mud, their eyes vacant.

Desperate soldiers.

This is what we call a desperate army.

Zhao Yushu, who was following behind Lin Feng, looked at the wounded soldiers who were missing limbs, his face turned pale, and his Adam's apple bobbed up and down.

Later generations called this battle the "Verdun of the East," but only by standing here and smelling the air mixed with the stench of corpses, gunpowder, and scorched earth could Lin Feng understand how much blood and flesh had been piled up behind those five words, creating such a tragic scene.

"Brigade Commander Lin, I'm leaving this place to you."

The speaker was Brigade Commander Liao of the 262nd Brigade of the 88th Division.

The officer, a graduate of the Whampoa Military Academy, was now a complete mess. His uniform had long since turned into strips of cloth of indistinguishable color. His face was covered in stubble, and his eyes were sunken. Only his eyes still shone with an indomitable light.

He was unaware of his division commander's despicable intention to steal credit. Looking at the excessively well-equipped troops behind Lin Feng, he felt only envy and exhaustion.

"The Japanese troops on the other side are the 3rd Division, the Nagoya Division. That's the Japanese main force, with fierce firepower and accurate marksmanship. They're very difficult to deal with."

Brigade Commander Liao patted Lin Feng on the shoulder and said with a solemn air:

"Soldiers have it as their duty to defend their country. We are all sons of the Whampoa Military Academy. Commander Lin, take care, and don't lose our position."

After saying that, he didn't say anything more, turned around and led the exhausted remnants of his army to retreat.

Lin Feng looked at their hunched but determined backs, feeling a mix of emotions.

This is the backbone of the Great Xia Dynasty.

Even if their superiors were cowardly and afraid of death, and even if their equipment was inferior, these rank-and-file soldiers were still risking their lives to fill this bottomless pit and continue to protect the Great Xia.

"Attention, all men! Salute!"

Lin Feng roared suddenly.

brush!

In the rain, the officers and soldiers of the 3rd Security Brigade raised their right hands in unison, paying the highest tribute to the friendly forces who had just withdrawn.

Zhao Yushu straightened his back, saluted forcefully, and his eyes were slightly red.

At that moment, he seemed to have suddenly grown up.

After seeing off the friendly forces, the heavy burden of responsibility instantly weighed on Lin Feng's shoulders.

His palms began to sweat, his heart pounded, and his breathing became rapid.

tension.

That's a physiological instinct.

This is no longer a battle against a crippled and overconfident brigade in Qibao Town.

This is positional warfare.

They were facing the Japanese 3rd Division, their most elite unit, a complete war machine with all-round fire support from land, sea, and air.

"call……"

Lin Feng took a deep breath of the damp, cold air, forcing himself to calm down.

"Quickly, the second and fourth battalions of the first regiment, take over the position immediately!"

"Sappers, reinforce the fortifications and clear those collapsed trenches."

"Anti-aircraft company, set up the Flak 30 anti-aircraft guns behind the ruins, and M2HB heavy machine gun teams upstairs. Keep a close watch on the Japanese planes."

"Reconnaissance platoon and sniper teams, spread out! Information is the top priority!"

The orders were issued in an orderly manner.

With the system permissions upgraded to Level III, in addition to those powerful weapons, the supply exchange list now includes some inconspicuous but crucial little items.

Motorola SCR-536 Handheld Radio

Exchange Price: 5 points

[Note: Nicknamed the handheld walkie-talkie. Although its communication range is only 1.6 kilometers and it is easily jammed, it is a lifesaver in platoon and squad-level tactical communications.]

Lin Feng had previously exchanged for a total of 40 units, ensuring that each battalion's reconnaissance squad, as well as the battalion and company headquarters, could each carry one.

These days, even the Japanese could only equip their regiments with radios, but he was assigned one directly to his squad.

Lin Feng knew that sometimes, information was more important than artillery shells.

On the front lines.

The elite system soldiers of the Second Battalion quickly dispersed, seeping into every corner of the ruins like mercury spilling onto the ground.

They didn't even need Lin Feng to give much command; they were able to find the best firing positions, clear the field of fire, and build counter-firing positions with exceptional professionalism.

The MG42 machine gun was mounted behind a concealed window, its dark muzzle pointing towards the open ground ahead.

The militiamen of the Fourth Battalion, despite holding brand-new Hanyang rifles and being accompanied by so many powerful figures, were visibly trembling.

That was an instinctive fear of death.

"What's there to be afraid of? Even if you lose your head, the scar will be the size of a bowl."

Zhao Yushu, now energized, volunteered to run into the militia's trenches, waving his pistol and loudly reassuring them:

"Brothers, did you all see those brothers who retreated just now? They can hold out for two months. With our better equipment, do you think we can't even hold out for two days?"

"Let me tell you, the brigade commander has prepared canned meat for us. After this battle, we can eat as much as we want."

Lin Feng smiled as he looked at his lively cousin.

To be honest, although Zhao Yushu is usually unreliable, his nonchalant attitude as a young master at this moment actually reassured the militia members quite a bit.

-----

Lin Feng huddled in a traffic trench outside the North Station, feeling like he was getting moldy.

The Japanese heavy artillery bombarded Shanghai day and night, which had already shaken out the groundwater beneath this position. Coupled with the continuous rain, the mud accumulated at the bottom of the trenches was half a foot deep.

Lin Feng's military boots were already filled with water, and with each step he took, his feet made a sickening "gurgling" sound.

The feeling was like having your feet stuffed into two pieces of cold, rotten flesh, your toes soaked until they turned white and wrinkled, and an excruciating itch accompanied by numbness, slowly seeping into your heart along your nerve endings.

He had just finished inspecting the Second Battalion's defenses and plopped down on a wet ammunition box, panting heavily.

Ignoring his appearance, he quickly took off his military boots, poured out the murky yellow muddy water inside, and then vigorously rubbed his numb feet.

"Pooh."

Lin Feng spat out a mouthful of saliva mixed with mud and sand.

"This damn weather."

Suddenly, a commotion arose from the ruins on the east side, mixed with a woman's cries and a child's screams.

Lin Feng's heart tightened, and he suddenly poked his head out of the trench.

Through the rain, a group of ragged people could be seen stumbling and surging towards the North Station building.

Some of them pushed creaking wheelbarrows piled high with tattered cotton wadding and pots and pans; others carried huge bundles on their backs, their backs bent under the weight; still others held children, struggling through the mud, one step at a time.

"Are these ordinary people... courting death?"

Lin Feng understood instantly.

The North Station is the terminus of the Beijing-Shanghai Railway and a vital passage to the inland areas.

These refugees were trying their luck here during a lull in the fighting, hoping to squeeze onto a train bound for Nanjing or further afield and escape this hell on earth that was Shanghai.

"Nonsense, utter nonsense."

Lin Feng instinctively wanted to jump out of the trench to stop them.

The vanguard of the Japanese army could launch an attack at any time.

Moreover, in order to cut off the supply lines of the Daxia army, the Japanese planes always targeted the Beijing-Shanghai Railway as a key target.

Nobody knew when the train would arrive.

Before he could even jump out...

"Waaah—"

The chilling, piercing whistling sound instantly tore through the curtain of rain.