The Courtyard House: The Little Red Devil Returning from the Peninsula

Early morning, Baimaling playground.

The entire regiment did morning exercises. More than a thousand people formed a square formation and ran on the playground. The sound of their footsteps on the frozen ground thumped like a drum.

The exhaled white breath dispersed in the air and disappeared when blown away by the cold wind.

Zhao Weiguo stood at the edge of the playground watching. Zhao Gang stood next to him, wearing an old cotton-padded jacket over his long gown. The jacket belonged to Li Dazhu and was two sizes too big, with the sleeves covering the back of his hands.

Old Zhou stepped out from the ranks of the First Battalion.

His face was even more tense than when he had been traveling the night before. He gripped his military cap tightly in his hand, the brim deformed from being squeezed. He walked to the middle of the parade ground, faced Zhao Weiguo, and stood at attention.

The footsteps on the playground slowed down, and more than a thousand pairs of eyes turned to look.

Old Zhou raised his right hand and saluted. The salute was perfect; his arm was raised to his eyebrows, his fingers were together, and he paused for three seconds.

"Reporting to the commander."

He paused, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down.

"What happened before was my fault. I said those mean things, I whistled those things. Take them back. From now on, the First Battalion will obey the Regiment Commander."

Zhao Weiguo stared at him for a while.

"No alcohol for three days."

Old Zhou paused for a moment, then nodded.

A veteran nearby chuckled. The tense atmosphere eased a bit, like a crack appearing on ice.

Old Zhou put his military cap back on, turned around, and walked back to the First Battalion's ranks. As he walked back, the soldiers of the First Battalion automatically made way for him; some patted him on the shoulder, and some nodded. They accepted it.

Zhao Gang stood by and watched without saying a word. He understood. Kong Jie's trip hadn't been in vain.

Political work is about untying the knots in people's hearts. Old Zhou's one gesture was more effective than ten meetings he held.

But he also noticed that the old members of the assault battalion on the right had no expression on their faces. Liu Dashan moved the straw in his mouth to the other side, and Lao Hu looked down and fumbled for a spoon in his pocket.

They didn't object, but they didn't shout either.

Zhao Gang noted this down in his mind: the old soldier's wound was just healed on one end, but the other end still needed to be slowly warmed up.

The group continued their morning exercises, and their footsteps became synchronized once again.

Evening, the regimental headquarters cave dwelling.

Zhao Gang was checking the medical team's medicine list with Chen An. There were two bottles of iodine left, four packets of hemostatic powder left, and enough bandages, but almost no anti-inflammatory drugs.

Zhao Gang made a note in his notebook that the pen was a fountain pen with a copper cap that gleamed under the light.

The sound of horses' hooves could be heard outside the cave dwelling.

The sound of hooves was rapid; the horseshoes struck the stones, almost sending sparks flying. A horse charged into the regimental headquarters courtyard, its body drenched in sweat, which soaked the saddle and bridle.

The rider tumbled to the ground, his legs buckling and he nearly collapsed to his knees. His inner thighs were chafed from riding all day.

He was a staff officer at the brigade headquarters.

He rushed into the cave dwelling and slammed a letter on the table. The envelope was stamped with the brigade headquarters' seal, and the red ink was still wet, smeared on the table.

"Urgent intelligence. The Japanese 36th Division has dispatched 800 men from the Taiyuan direction to sweep through Baimaling tomorrow morning."

The cave dwelling was quiet.

Zhao Weiguo picked up the letter and opened it.

The letter was written by the old brigade commander himself; the handwriting was messy, but every word was legible: The enemy's 36th Division had dispatched 800 men, carrying two artillery pieces, four heavy machine guns, and more than ten light machine guns, commanded by Lieutenant Colonel Yamazaki of the 36th Division. They were scheduled to attack Baimaling via the Heisonggou direction tomorrow morning. The Independent Regiment was ordered to prepare for battle and, if necessary, could move to Shuangbaigou to join forces with the New 3rd Regiment.

Zhao Weiguo put the letter down.

Eight hundred men. With cannons and machine guns.

He stared at the word "eight hundred" on the paper. The Independent Regiment had 1,600 men, less than 400 of whom were veterans who had fought in tough battles, and the rest were new recruits who hadn't even gotten used to holding a gun.

The Japanese soldiers pressed forward with cannons and machine guns; if you tried to withstand them head-on, you were essentially sending people to the muzzle of their guns.

Chen An stood in the corner, still clutching the medicine list in his hand. He heard the words "eight hundred," and the list crumpled under his fingers.

Zhao Weiguo stood up.

"Notify all officers at the company level and above that there will be a meeting at the regimental headquarters in half an hour."

He paused for a moment and looked at Zhao Gang.

"Political Commissar, you'll preside over the meeting with me."

Zhao Gang nodded and put the pen back in his shirt pocket.

Half an hour later, the regimental headquarters cave dwelling was filled with people.

Zhao Weiguo, Zhao Gang, Li Dazhu, Lao Hu, Lao Zhou, Lao Qian, Liu Dashan, Zhi Zi, Chen An, Zhao Tieshan, along with the battalion commanders and company commanders, more than twenty people crammed the cave dwelling full.

Zhao Weiguo unfolded a map of the area surrounding Baimaling. The map was hand-drawn by him, with crooked pencil lines, but every punctuation mark was clear.

"Eight hundred Japanese soldiers will arrive tomorrow morning. They have cannons and machine guns. Commander: Yamazaki."

He paused for a moment.

There was a two-second silence in the cave dwelling. Someone swallowed, the sound clearly audible in the quiet.

Zhao Weiguo's hand rested on the map, his fingers remaining still. He stared at the location of Baimaling on the map for a few seconds.

Eight hundred men. With cannons. Tomorrow morning.

His palms were sweaty. He took his hands off the map and wiped them on his trouser leg.

"We can't just tough it out. The new recruits can't fill this hole."

Li Dazhu leaned closer to the map.

"Sandaogou".

Zhao Weiguo pointed to the map.

"Heisonggou is the eastern gateway to Baimaling. The gully is narrow, with slopes on both sides covered in shrubs. When the Japanese army entered the gully, they would fire a round from both sides and then retreat. By taking a bite, you can see their organization and firepower."

Old Zhou responded.

"The dry ditch is five li to the east. The ditch is wider, but there's a section with a stone embankment that mules and horses can't cross. The speed will slow down here. The second battalion will launch a second attack, taking a bite and leaving. Bleeding them out, not closing the gate."

Old Qian chimed in, "And then?"

"Tuanbu Gully is west of Baimaling, the last one. The entrance is narrow, with cliffs on both sides, similar to Baima Gully. After the Japanese army crossed two gullies, their forces were exhausted, and their arrogant troops also came up. We closed the gate here."

He put the pencil down.

"Three lines of defense. Once each line is breached, retreat to the next support point. Lure the enemy deep into our territory. Drag eight hundred men into our rhythm step by step."

Li Dazhu looked at the map, frowning.

"Won't withdrawing the three lines of defense back and forth cause chaos?"

"There are many new recruits, and that's what we're afraid of," Old Qian chimed in. "As soon as they hear the retreat signal, some soldiers' legs start to tremble, thinking they've been defeated, and they run away."

Zhao Weiguo pointed to the three dotted lines on the map.

"The retreat routes will be drawn in advance. When each defensive line retreats, the rear guard will provide cover while the main force retreats along the pre-set route to the support point of the next defensive line. There will be people waiting at the support point to ensure a seamless handover of fire. Anyone who retreats along the wrong route will be court-martialed upon their return."

He raised his head and glanced at everyone present.

"This is not a retreat. It's a change of location to continue the fight. Each battalion commander must make this clear to every soldier tonight."

Li Dazhu wrote it down.

Old Zhou stood up.

"Commander, the First Battalion is to attack the first Black Pine Gully."

Zhao Weiguo looked at him.

"The First Battalion just admitted its mistake, so we need to show our toughness," Old Zhou said. "The First Battalion will fire the first shot in Heisonggou."

Zhao Weiguo thought for a moment.

"Alright. Black Pine Gully, let's unite as one camp."

Old Zhou sat down. As he sat down, the veteran from the former Kong Jie unit next to him looked at him, something moving in his eyes.

Zhao Tieshan raised his hand.

"Commander, the arsenal has just reloaded a batch of mortar shells. Not many, only twenty-three. The fuses are homemade; I can't guarantee their reliability, but they're usable."

"Keep them," Zhao Weiguo said. "Save all twenty-three rounds for the third regimental headquarters ditch, specifically to target the Japanese artillery and machine gun positions."

Zhao Tieshan didn't ask any more questions. He pushed his glasses up, and his eyes flashed behind the lenses.

Zhao Gang took over the conversation.

"Why we fight, how we retreat, and where we retreat to—I'll explain it to each battalion tonight."

He looked at the people present.

"If any of my soldiers panic and run away, the battalion commander will share the responsibility with me."

A company commander from the third battalion raised his hand.

"Political Commissar, the new recruits don't understand what 'luring the enemy deep into our territory' means; they only understand 'charge forward' and 'run.'"

Zhao Gang looked at him.

"Then tell them: when you hear the retreat signal, it's not to run for your lives, it's to move to another spot and keep fighting. Anyone who runs away will be caught by the machine guns behind them."

The company commander swallowed hard and put his hand down.

Zhao Weiguo didn't ask any more questions.

"Meeting adjourned. Each battalion shall move to its position within one hour."

Nighttime, Baimaling.

The procession moved along the mountain path. The torches were kept low, their light close to the ground, illuminating the gravel and mud beneath their feet. The three groups spread outwards from Baimaling like three hidden lines.

The first battalion headed east to Heisonggou.

The Second Battalion headed southeast to Ganhegou.

The regimental headquarters and the 3rd Battalion headed west to the regimental headquarters ditch.

A new recruit carried a Hanyang rifle that was half a head taller than him, the butt of which slammed against his waist repeatedly. He gritted his teeth, not daring to cry out in pain.

An old soldier next to him glanced at him and reached out to raise his gun.

"Keep the sling tight. Don't fall while running."

The recruit remained silent, his voice trembling.

"Uncle, are the Japanese really coming?"

The veteran didn't answer, but instead pulled a hard piece of dry rations from his pocket and stuffed it into his hand.

"Keep it in your mouth. So your teeth don't fight."

Zhao Weiguo stood on a high point in Tuanbugou, looking at the distant mountain ridgeline. The moon was half-hidden by clouds, and the light was dim.

The last spark in the direction of Heisonggou has gone out, and the First Battalion has arrived.

The system panel in his mind lit up.

The simulation results showed that the enemy force consisted of approximately three infantry companies, plus artillery, machine gunners, and supplies, totaling around eight hundred.

Lieutenant Colonel Yamazaki's old strategy was to suppress the enemy head-on and then flank them from the side.

He turned off the panel.

Eight hundred people. They'll arrive tomorrow morning.

Zhao Gang walked over to him, his long gown hem covered in mud. He had just returned from giving lectures at various camps, and his voice was a little hoarse.

"Everything has been explained clearly. Each battalion knows how to withdraw and where to withdraw to. The first battalion has the highest morale, and Old Zhou patted his chest and said that Heisonggou will not be a disgrace."

Zhao Weiguo nodded.

"Go get some sleep. You'll have a fight tomorrow."

Zhao Gang didn't leave. He stood on high ground, looking at the dark ravine in the distance.

"Wei Guo. Eight hundred men, are you really confident?"

Zhao Weiguo looked into the distance.

"No. The terrain helped me."

He paused for a moment.

"In the worst-case scenario, we would retreat to Shuangbaigou and join forces with Ding Wei."

Zhao Gang closed the notebook, turned around, and left.

Zhao Weiguo stood alone on a high place, the wind blowing in from the ravine, chilling him to the bone. He wrapped his cotton-padded coat tighter and looked into the darkness in the distance.

He recalled what the old brigade commander had said: "Three months, I want to see what kind of battle the Independent Regiment can fight."

Before three months had even passed, eight hundred Japanese soldiers arrived.

Before dawn, he turned and walked towards the regimental headquarters.

There was a stone under his feet. He kicked it, and the stone rolled down the hillside, making a series of slight noises that were quickly swallowed by the wind.