On the eve of the fall of Liaodong, he led his troops in a remonstrance against the young marshal.

The Liao River.

The widest, deepest, and fastest-flowing river on the Liaonan Plain.

Starting from Yingkou and heading upstream for hundreds of miles, it almost traverses the entire southern Liaoning region.

The river is over 800 meters wide at its widest point and 100 meters wide at its narrowest.

The water was deep and the current was swift. The riverbed was full of silt and quicksand, making it impossible for people and horses to cross, and vehicles could hardly move an inch.

There is only one bridge across the river in the Haicheng area.

Dashiqiao.

This is a stone arch bridge built in the late Qing Dynasty. It is 120 meters long and only 3 meters wide, allowing only one truck to pass in one direction.

The bridge is constructed of bluestone, with its piers deeply embedded in the riverbed, and has withstood sixty years of wind and rain without collapsing.

At this moment, this bridge is the only way out for the entire 4th Brigade.

Once the Liao River is crossed and the stone bridge is destroyed, the river surface, spanning over 100 meters, will become a natural barrier.

No matter how powerful the T-34 tank is, it's impossible for it to fly across a river that's over 100 meters wide.

Even if the Northeast Army's engineers built a pontoon bridge, it would take at least half a day. Half a day would be enough time for the remnants of the 4th Brigade to retreat into the Lushun Fortress.

But the prerequisite is that they can reach the bridge faster than the steel torrent behind them.

"Hayaku! Haayaku! Kill the chicken!"

Takeshita Yoshio stood in the passenger seat of the command vehicle, half of his body leaning out of the vehicle, one hand gripping the handrail tightly, the other hand waving wildly at the convoy behind him.

His voice was completely hoarse, and his face was covered in cold sweat.

"Faster! Faster! Let the rest of the group catch up!"

His eyes were fixed on the front, on the faintly visible silver band of light on the horizon.

That's the Liao River, less than ten kilometers away.

Ten kilometers.

At the team's pace, they should arrive in less than an hour.

If they could get there, if they could cross that bridge before the Northeast Army's tanks caught up, six thousand Imperial soldiers could survive.

Behind him, a long train convoy was rushing along the highway.

More than 600 trucks, armored vehicles, and supply wagons formed a long, single-line formation stretching over ten kilometers, fleeing frantically southward along the highway.

The roar of the engines mingled with the clatter of horses' hooves, kicking up clouds of dust. The soldiers huddled in the carriages, their faces etched with fear and exhaustion.

Six hours ago, they were the Kwantung Army's most elite 4th Brigade, nine thousand fully armed Imperial soldiers.

Now, they are a pack of stray dogs.

The 3,000 men of the 12th Regiment were left behind as the rearguard, but everyone knew that their fate was sealed.

They couldn't possibly stop hundreds of tanks.

The only thing they could do was trade their lives for time, using three thousand lives to allow the main force to run ten more kilometers.

No one spoke in the carriage.

Some people were crying silently, some were holding rifles and staring blankly at the sky, and some were loading bullets into the magazine with trembling hands.

No one knew what use those bullets would be, but the act of loading them was enough to offer them a pitiful comfort.

"General!"

Colonel Tezuka leaned out of the carriage and shouted to Takeshita, "The Liao River is just ahead! Once we cross the bridge, it'll be our territory!"

"I know!"

Takeshita didn't turn around; his eyes remained fixed on the front. "Have the engineers prepare to blow up the bridge! Destroy it immediately after the main force has crossed!"

"Hai!"

Tezuka retreated into the carriage and began transmitting orders via radio.

Takeshita continued to stare at the horizon ahead.

The outline of the Liao River is becoming increasingly clear.

He could see the outline of the stone bridge's arch, and it was still ten kilometers away.

Takeshita's heart began to race; the bridge was still there!

The Northeast Army's planes didn't bomb it! If only fifteen more minutes had passed, if only ten more kilometers had been traveled, he could have led six thousand men across the bridge, then bombed it, blocking all those damned tanks on the north bank of the Liao River!

"All troops, accelerate! The bridge is still standing!"

He shouted behind him, his voice filled with excitement, "Hurry! Hurry!"

The entire convoy sped up again.

The engine roared under the strain, and the truck bounced violently on the bumpy dirt road, throwing the soldiers in the truck bed to the side.

Everyone saw the bridge ahead, and everyone knew that the bridge represented their hope for survival.

10 kilometers... 5 kilometers... 3 kilometers...

The bridge is now clearly visible.

It was a bluish-gray stone arch bridge spanning a wide river. The bridge consisted of thirteen arches of varying sizes, and the stone slabs on the bridge surface had been deeply rutted by the wheels of vehicles over the past sixty years.

The river water under the bridge shimmered in the morning light, looking calm and beautiful.

Three kilometers to go.

Takeshita could almost see the outlines of the two stone lions at the bridgehead, and the corners of his mouth even began to turn up slightly. The sacrifice of the Yoshida team had not been in vain.

Just then, the sound of fighter jets roaring in the sky came from above.

"Whoosh whoosh!"

Takeshita's smile froze on his face.

He suddenly raised his head and looked north.

Thirty P-51 Mustang fighter planes flew overhead in the blink of an eye.

Li Changkong sat in the cockpit of the Mustang fighter jet, looking down at the ground below through the bulletproof glass.

A cold smile appeared on his lips.

"Attention all."

"Target: Enemy convoy on the highway."

"The fighter jets will conduct free strafing, prioritizing the head and tail of the convoy to block the road."

"Remember! Never let them cross the river!"

"yes!"

Li Changkong pushed the control stick, and the fighter jet began to dive.

Twenty-nine Mustangs followed behind him.

Takeshita's eyes widened instantly.

"Baka..."

"Da da da da!"

The machine gun, like the Grim Reaper's scythe, plowed through the very back of the convoy.

The moment the bullet struck the last truck, the truck bed and the more than twenty soldiers inside were blasted into pieces.

Severed limbs and bits of flesh tumbled in the shockwaves of the barrage, and blood sprayed into the air like a fountain.

"Da da da da!"

The second Mustang followed closely behind, its target being the very front of the convoy.

Six fiery whips lashed down from the sky, simultaneously engulfing the three leading trucks in a barrage of bullets.

The cab of the first truck was riddled with bullet holes, the driver died on the spot, and the vehicle went out of control and lay across the middle of the road.

The second truck's fuel tank was hit, and the entire vehicle exploded into a giant fireball, with burning gasoline raining down on the surrounding soldiers.

The soldiers in the third truck tried to jump out and escape, but how could they possibly outrun a bullet?

A dozen people had just jumped off the car when they were caught up by the barrage of comments and their bodies were blasted in half mid-air.

The beginning and end of the road were blocked at the same time.

The entire convoy was blocked on a narrow road less than five kilometers long, unable to move forward or backward, like a long snake with its head and tail pinned down.

Thirty Mustang fighters were divided into three groups and took turns diving and strafing.

The barrage of comments swept across the highway, tearing everything in its path to shreds.

Trucks exploded one after another, and human remains were spread across the highway, forming a blood-red carpet.

Takeshita was dragged out of the command vehicle by Tezuka and pushed into a dry irrigation ditch by the roadside.

He lay prone at the bottom of the ditch, looked up, and saw the convoy on the highway burning.

Orange flames leaped in the morning light, while thick black smoke billowed up, turning the sky a dark gray.

"Baka yarou!"

He roared and struggled to get up, but Tezuka held him down firmly.

"General! We can't go out!"

Tezuka's face was blackened by gunpowder smoke, but a sliver of clarity remained in his eyes. "Going out now is suicide!"

"Then let's fight them!"

Takeshita drew his military sword, the tip pointing at the diving fighter jets overhead. His facial muscles twitched wildly with rage. "All machine guns, fire! Shoot those damn planes down!"

"We don't have anti-aircraft machine guns!"

Tezuka practically roared, "Light machine guns can't take them down! Look at them! They're too fast!"

Several Type 91 light machine guns were indeed firing into the air, but the bullets all hit behind the contrails of the fighter jets.

The P-51 Mustang's dive speed exceeds 600 kilometers per hour, which the Type 96's rate of fire and trajectory simply cannot keep up with.

The machine gunners could only watch helplessly as death swept overhead, firing a final, futile burst of bullets before the barrage of fire could tear them apart.

Takeshita's hand holding the military sword trembled.

He witnessed a heavy machine gun team on a truck set up their Type 92 heavy machine guns, only to have a Mustang cut in from the side and unleash six volleys of fire.

The machine gun, tripod, and three soldiers were all reduced to parts.

"We must keep moving forward!"

Tezuka grabbed Takeshita's shoulders and shook him violently. "General! Please listen to me!"

"These planes are trying to block us; they're buying time for the tanks behind us! We can't just stand here and wait to die!"

Takeshita turned his head and looked in the direction of the Liao River.

The bluish-gray stone bridge is still there. It's only three kilometers away.

Three kilometers.

His six thousand soldiers are being slaughtered along this three-kilometer stretch of highway.

Fighter jets circled overhead, like vultures pecking at carrion, repeatedly diving, strafing, pulling up, and diving again.

But the bridge is still there.

Once they cross the bridge, no matter how powerful those planes are, they can't possibly kill all six thousand people.

Once they reached the south bank of the river, they could disperse and retreat, fighting their way back towards Lushun.

Aircraft ammunition is ultimately limited; it's impossible to keep chasing and firing at them indefinitely.

He took a deep breath.

"Pass on the order!"

His voice was hoarse but firm: "The entire army must break through the Liaohe Bridge at all costs!"

"Engineering units will have priority to cross the bridge and prepare to blow it up! The rest of the troops..."

He paused, looked at the soldiers being slaughtered on the highway, and gave his final order with immense sorrow.

"The rest of the troops, break out on your own! Head to the south bank!"

"Hai!"

The orders were relayed through messengers and the remaining radios.

But in this chaos, no one knows how many people heard the orders or how many would carry them out.

The Japanese soldiers began to rush frantically toward the bridge.

Having lost all command, they fled towards the bridge entirely on their survival instincts.

Six thousand soldiers surged toward the narrow stone bridge like a tidal wave, pushing and trampling each other.

The officers' orders were drowned out by the sounds of explosions and screams; no one listened, and no one cared.

The bridge is only three meters wide.

What would happen if six thousand people rushed toward a six-meter-wide stone bridge at the same time?

The northern entrance to the bridge has become a huge bottleneck.

Hundreds of people crowded at the bridgehead, desperately trying to squeeze onto the bridge surface.

The people behind pushed the people in front, and the people in front were squeezed so much that they couldn't breathe.

Some people were pushed to the ground, and before they could even stand up, they were trampled on by countless pairs of military boots.

The sound of ribs breaking was almost inaudible in the noisy crowd, but the screams of those trampled to death were particularly piercing.

The bridge was in complete chaos.

Trucks, horse-drawn carriages, and foot soldiers were all crammed together.

A truck attempting to force its way onto the bridge got stuck at the highest point of the arch, unable to move forward or backward.

The driver honked the horn frantically, but the sound was as faint as a mosquito's buzz amidst the screams and explosions around him.

No one made way for him, because no one could make way for him.

The bridge was packed with people like sardines in a can, so close together that there wasn't even room to turn around.

Some soldiers even climbed over the bridge railings and tried to crawl along the stone carvings on the outside of the bridge.

However, the edge of the stone carving is less than 20 centimeters wide and is covered with slippery moss.

A soldier had climbed less than three meters when he slipped and fell into the river more than thirty meters below, screaming in agony.

A white splash rose from the river's surface, and the soldier vanished instantly. His heavy uniform and equipment dragged him into the silt at the bottom of the river, where he never resurfaced.

"Don't push! Don't push!"

Escorted by Tezuka and several guards, Takeshita tried to squeeze onto the bridge, but was blocked at the bridgehead by the crowd.

He drew his military knife and brandished it in the air, shouting, "Make way! All of you make way! The brigade commander needs to pass!"

No one moved aside.

Everyone has gone mad.

Just then, a young soldier standing next to the bridge railing suddenly screamed.