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

The fiercest battle of the day took place in the ruins surrounding the North Station.

Fearless Japanese infantrymen, under the cover of smoke grenades, rushed into the ruins, attempting to engage the security brigade's garrison in close combat.

They thought that once they entered urban warfare, they could take advantage of their superior bayonet fighting skills.

However, what awaited them was Lin Feng's ace unit, the combat engineer company.

"Heavens over black card, board... Ah!!!"

A Japanese soldier was running wildly through the alley, raising his Type 38 rifle and trying to stab someone with his bayonet, but he was engulfed by a blazing fire dragon from a great distance.

A combat engineer carrying a gas tank on his back, holding a Type 41 flamethrower, unleashed a barrage of sprays at the corner of the ruins.

The flames, like a festering sore, instantly ignited the Japanese soldiers' uniforms and bodies.

The screams of those being burned alive were more terrifying than the roar of any weapon.

Immediately following was the iconic splashing sound of a PPSh submachine gun.

With a 71-round drum magazine, it's practically invincible in close-quarters urban combat.

The Japanese soldiers' long Type 38 rifles were useless in the alleyways, as they were riddled with bullets.

There were also snipers lying in ambush in the ruins, specifically targeting junior Japanese officers.

Objectively speaking, the initiative of the Japanese rank-and-file troops was very high compared to other countries during World War II. The rank-and-file infantry were well-trained, coordinated well, had accurate marksmanship, and possessed a fearless and ruthless spirit.

However, this strength is built on a fatal weakness: they are extremely reliant on experienced junior officers and non-commissioned officers who have received long-term militaristic education.

Sniping tactics are the perfect counter to this. Once these corporals, sergeants, and sergeant commanders are gone, the Japanese soldiers' fighting power will plummet, turning them into a bunch of headless flies.

"Bang!"

A gunshot rang out.

A Japanese sergeant, who was waving the Japanese flag and directing the attack, suddenly fell to the ground.

"Bang!"

Another shot.

A Japanese warrant officer, who had a bronze whistle between his teeth, fell backward as a spurt of blood shot from his chest.

"Sniper, another sniper."

The Japanese attack formation was instantly thrown into disarray.

Without the officers' shouts and commands, the Japanese infantry looked at each other, unsure whether to charge or retreat.

And at the very back of the battlefield.

The twelve 120mm heavy mortars, like nomadic cavalry, fired one shot and moved on to another.

"Coordinates XXX, three rapid shots, fire."

"Thump thump thump."

Each explosion took the lives of several Japanese soldiers and left a huge crater on the ground.

This battle is unwinnable.

Five o'clock in the afternoon.

That was a heartbreaking moment for the Japanese 3rd Division.

Seeing the large number of wounded and dead being carried down, and the impenetrable steel defense line in the distance, Colonel Takamori Takashi finally lowered his proud head.

"Retreat... Cease the attack..."

He gritted his teeth, his voice filled with resentment and humiliation.

The North Station, this fortress forged with steel and flesh, still stands tall against the wind and rain.

-----

"Dinner's ready, eat it while it's hot, don't hold back."

As the officers' loud voices echoed through the trenches, civilian laborers from the logistics department carried buckets of steaming food to the front lines.

It was stewed cabbage, mixed with some canned ham, and a layer of oil floated on the soup.

There was also freshly cooked rice, steaming hot. The aroma of the food seemed out of place in the trenches filled with the smell of gunpowder and blood, yet it was incredibly tempting.

Hot food and soup are the magic weapons for restoring morale and physical strength.

Lin Feng sat on the ammunition box in the command post, holding a large enamel mug in his hands.

Inside was a full pot of hot soup with rice, topped with two thick slices of salted meat.

He didn't care about being polite anymore, and grabbed the iron spoon, shoveling food into his mouth with gusto.

The scalding hot soup slid down my esophagus into my stomach like a ball of fire, instantly dispelling the chill that had accumulated in my body all day.

"ha……"

Lin Feng exhaled a breath of hot air and let out a satisfied burp.

Then he scooped up another big spoonful, his cheeks bulging, his chewing muscles working hard.

This isn't about enjoying a meal; it's about refueling a machine.

On the battlefield, being able to eat and sleep is a skill for survival.

But his chewing motion suddenly paused.

He thought of the scouts who were still lying in ambush on the outskirts.

They dared not light a fire, dared not make any big movements, and even had to be careful when breathing.

They're probably huddled in a waterlogged crater right now, gnawing on hard, rock-hard compressed biscuits, swallowing them down with the rainwater.

"Thanks for your hard work, brothers."

Lin Feng sighed, then shoveled a large mouthful of rice into his mouth, as if he wanted to swallow that emotion along with the food.

After eating and drinking his fill and restoring blood flow to his brain, Lin Feng put down his teacup and began to review the day's battle.

According to the kill notifications from the system backend, at least 600 Japanese soldiers were killed today.

If we include those injured by artillery fire, grazed by shrapnel, and those who lost combat ability due to non-lethal bullet wounds, the Japanese 68th Regiment was decimated by at least one and a half battalions.

This was an absolutely astonishing achievement on the battlefield of Shanghai.

However, the cost was also severe.

"The casualties... are too great."

Lin Feng frowned deeply as he looked at the casualty statistics table that Zhao Yushu handed him.

More than 400 people were killed and more than 1000 were injured.

Most of them did not die from Japanese gunfire, but from the unreasonable bombardment of Japanese heavy artillery and naval guns.

In this area of ​​Shanghai, the groundwater level is extremely high; you can find water just over a meter down.

The trenches were never very deep, and the anti-artillery shelters were mostly simple.

A single 150mm grenade can turn a shallow bunker into a burial pit.

A single 203mm naval gun shot would turn the ground into a pond, and many of the victims' bodies could not even be found.

There were even more injured.

Lin Feng grabbed the phone: "Notify the logistics battalion's stretcher team to transport all the wounded under cover of darkness. Tell that Dean Zhang we invited from Qibao Town to set up the operating table for me in the rear. I have enough medicine; I'll save as many as I can."

After hanging up the phone, Lin Feng lit a cigarette and took a deep drag.

"Cough cough... Damn it."

In the war movies I watched in my past life, it seemed that commanders would smoke one of these cigarettes after a major battle.

Then when Lin Feng tried it himself, he found that he was not used to it at all.

Lin Feng stubbed out his cigarette and unconsciously pinched his earlobe, lost in thought.

Tactically speaking, today's battle was a perfect defensive one.

Strategically speaking, however, this was a gamble destined to fail.

As a time traveler, he knew all too well what was to come.

His holding out at the North Station probably had little impact on the overall battle situation.

"March 5th..."

Lin Feng silently counted down the date in his heart.

In the original timeline, on that day, nearly 10 troops of the Japanese 10th Army were to land at Jinshanwei in Hangcheng Bay, like a sharp knife piercing the right flank of hundreds of thousands of Xia troops, threatening their retreat.

At that time, the entire Shanghai-Songhu defense line will collapse like dominoes.

What followed was that epic rout.

The command system of the Nationalist government's top leadership will be paralyzed in the later stages, with evacuation orders being issued slowly and in a chaotic manner.

Hundreds of thousands of troops, along with countless refugees, crowded onto several highways leading to Nanjing.

That would be a sitting duck for the Japanese planes.

The Wufu Line, the Xicheng Line... some of those defense works that cost a fortune were lost without even the doors of the bunkers being locked.

The Jiangyin Fortress fell, and the entire Xia navy was wiped out.

It's sad that all the horses are silent.