Courtyard Houses: Longevity Since the War of Resistance

As dawn broke, deliberately hushed noises came from the mountains and forests.

I opened my eyes; I hadn't actually slept much.

Watching the brigade commander lead dozens of men, pushing aside the bushes and emerging from the depths of the forest, the brigade commander, who was walking ahead, was walking briskly, but when his gaze fell on the stone platform, he stopped abruptly as if he had been nailed to the spot.

The guards and staff behind him, as well as the drivers and mechanics who had been led in blindfolded and had just had their blindfolds removed, all had the same expression: dumbfounded, their mouths agape.

On the stone platform, airplanes, tanks, and supplies appeared and disappeared in the morning mist, forming a dark, silent, and magnificent sight.

The brigade commander's Adam's apple bobbed several times. He didn't speak immediately, but slowly walked forward to the nearest Type 97 tank, reached out, and gently touched the cold, rough armor plate. His fingers trembled slightly.

He walked around the tank once, then looked up at the dense formation of aircraft in the distance and stared at it for a long time.

Then he turned around, his gaze finding me leaning against the rock wall, and strode over. His footsteps were especially clear in the quiet morning.

He walked up to me, staring at me with bloodshot eyes that were frighteningly bright. He opened his mouth as if to say something, then glanced at the team members sprawled out nearby, snoring loudly, and swallowed his words, only managing to squeeze out a few words through gritted teeth: "You... got them all?"

I nodded and lowered my voice: "Everything that can fly, run, and is usable is here. The Japanese air force and main tank units in Hebei are basically empty."

The brigade commander took another deep breath, his chest heaving. He looked around the steel jungle again, shook his head, as if trying to shake off the shock before him and get his mind back to normal.

"Your men..." He looked at his sleeping teammates.

"I'm exhausted," I said. "I worked for seven days straight, took it down, learned on the spot, and went through all that trouble to get it back. Let them sleep; they won't wake up for at least three days."

"Seven days..." the brigade commander murmured, his eyes filled with deep tenderness and pride as he looked at his team members. "Well done, all of you!"

He beckoned to an aide behind him and ordered in a very low voice, "Go, arrange for people to set up tents, boil water, and cook hot meals right here at the edge of the woods. As soon as the comrades wake up, they can eat and drink immediately. Keep it as quiet as possible; anyone who dares to wake them will be severely punished!"

"Yes, sir!" The staff officer suppressed his excitement and hurried off.

The brigade commander then looked at me again and gestured for me to move to a quieter spot nearby.

"We've got the stuff," he said, lighting a cigarette and taking a deep drag. "The next step is, how do we use it? We can't just leave it here to look at."

"Infantry, tanks, and air force—a coordinated effort." I stated succinctly, tracing a few lines on the ground with my finger. "Aircraft will launch first to clear out the enemy's forward fortifications, command posts, and communication nodes, and destroy their remaining aircraft and anti-aircraft firepower. Simultaneously, tank groups will advance from here and here, breaking through the enemy's lines. Infantry will follow behind the tanks, securing the breach, mopping up the remaining enemy forces, and capturing key positions."

I looked up at the brigade commander: "With absolute air superiority and tank assault capabilities, those Japanese earthworks and light infantry are nothing but paper. We won't waste time in the trenches; we'll just smash them through."

The brigade commander squatted down, staring at the rudimentary diagram I had drawn, his cigarette butt glowing in the morning mist. He was looking at it very carefully, his mind clearly racing with deductions.

"Coordination is key," he said thoughtfully. "The planes bomb where they bomb, the tanks charge where they charge, and the infantry follow. If there's even a slight difference in timing, the firepower might end up hitting our own men. Our people haven't played this game before."

"So the next few days will be spent practicing this," I said. "I'll take the people you selected to learn to drive, fly planes, and coordinate signals. They'll learn quickly. Ground tank and infantry coordination."

The brigade commander's eyes lit up even more: "Are you confident?"

"Yes." I nodded. "Without the Japanese planes, our skies are clean. Their anti-tank capabilities are also limited. This is our first time, and it's the first time the Japanese have ever been attacked in this way. We want to confuse them."

"Good!" The brigade commander stubbed out his cigarette, stood up, and the ruthlessness and decisiveness of an old commander returned to his face. "Do it this way! I'll go back immediately and transfer the most capable and quick-witted company and platoon leaders from each regiment, along with the literate and clever ones, to you! You'll train them hard!"

He paused, looked at the sleeping team members, and softened his tone: "Let them sleep well. You take charge of training the new recruits."

"clear."

The brigade commander took another deep look at the equipment on the stone platform, as if trying to etch the scene into his mind. Then he patted my shoulder forcefully, turned around, and led his men, disappearing silently into the forest.

For the next three days, this remote mountain stone plateau became an extremely busy temporary training base.

The brigade commander kept his word. On the first afternoon, the first batch of more than two hundred carefully selected soldiers were brought in blindfolded. They were all young, with bright eyes, and were either combat veterans or had some education.

The team members were still fast asleep, their snores deafening.

I became the only instructor, and the training started with recognizing the parts.

In three days, the first batch of over two hundred people managed to grasp the basic operating procedures of aircraft and tanks and memorize the coordination rules. Although they were far from being elite combat troops, they were barely sufficient for carrying out a pre-prepared assault mission.

On the evening of the third day, the setting sun turned the steel on the stone platform into a golden-red color.

After a loud snore, accompanied by stretching and the cracking of bones, the sleeping Zhenguo team members gradually woke up.

They sat up, rubbing their eyes, still a little dazed, but were quickly drawn to the bustling scene on the stone platform. Many unfamiliar faces were moving among the airplanes and tanks, touching this and looking at that.

Ye Qiao was the first to fully wake up. She stood up abruptly, scanning her surroundings warily. Only when she saw me did she breathe a sigh of relief and quickly walk over.

"Captain, how long have we been asleep?" Her voice was still a little hoarse.

"Three days," I said. "Mission accomplished. The brigade commander has already made arrangements for the follow-up."

Ye Qiao looked at the soldiers training and suddenly realized, "They're... here to take over?"

"Yes, they're also brothers who will fight alongside us in the future." I nodded.

The next morning, before dawn.

The stone platform, however, was filled with a somber atmosphere.

Beside every aircraft stood pilots in their flight gear. Beside every tank, crew members were in position. Further away, a dark mass of elite infantry drawn from the main force regiments stood, their bayonets gleaming coldly in the dim light.

The brigade commander stood on the turret of a tank, his gaze sweeping across the entire area, without uttering a lengthy speech.

"Comrades!" His voice boomed, piercing the morning mist, "The Japanese devils have occupied our homes and killed our loved ones! Today, we will use the planes they built, the tanks they built, to smash them! Pierce them! Drive them out!"

"Target: the entire territory of HB!"

"Set off!"

The command was given, and the roar of the engines suddenly erupted, shattering the silence of the mountain forest. The propellers spun, their blades stirring up a gale. The tank engines spewed black smoke, and the tracks rolled heavily and powerfully over the ground.

I stood next to the brigade commander, watching the first fighter jet accelerate on the makeshift dirt runway that had been cleared, then look up and hurtle towards the pale dawn sky, followed by the second, the third...

The tank formation also began to move, like a steel torrent, leaving Shiping and heading towards the plains outside the mountains along the pre-reconnaissance mountain road.

The outcome of the battle was a foregone conclusion.

Having lost air power and with their main armored forces depleted, the Japanese defenses crumbled at the first touch when faced with the sudden strafing and bombing by aircraft and the steel assault of tank formations on the ground.

Infantry followed the tanks, clearing out, occupying, and consolidating the positions.

Air superiority completely suppressed any attempt by the Japanese to regroup and launch a counterattack.

The pace of the attack was so fast that it completely paralyzed the Japanese command system.

One day, they broke through the front lines and besieged the city. Two days later, they divided and encircled the enemy, capturing key towns. Three days later, they mopped up the remaining enemy forces and cleared the main transportation lines.

As the sun set again on the third day, the Japanese flag had vanished from HB territory. Instead, vibrant flags fluttered across the vast plains.

In the Shiping command post, the brigade commander listened to the victory reports pouring in from various units, and with a red and blue pencil in his hand, he fiercely crossed out the last blue marker representing enemy-occupied territory on the map.

He looked up at the deepening night outside the window, and at the silhouettes of fighter jets returning and landing one after another in the darkness, and let out a long, long breath.

Then, he turned around, looked at me sitting in the corner smoking silently, said nothing, but patted my shoulder heavily again.

This time, it was more powerful than ever before.

HB, we've got it.