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

8:15.

Yamada's artillery detachment was blocked by the Third Battalion at the south entrance.

The two Type 94 artillery pieces had barely had their covers removed and weren't even properly mounted when a grenade came flying. The grenade struck the side of the gun mount, the blast sending the surrounding artillerymen sprawling to the ground. Ammunition boxes were pierced by shrapnel, the shells inside scattering everywhere; a few rolled to the roadside, hitting rocks but failing to explode. The artillerymen lay prone on the ground, too afraid to look up, while the machine gunners sprayed bullets at them from behind the rocks, the bullets clanging and clattering against the gun barrels.

In the middle of the valley, a soldier looked back to see if the artillery had been set up.

The artillery did not move.

The soldier cursed, but his voice was drowned out by the gunfire.

The heavy machine gun's barrel was bent from the explosion. The gunner lay prone behind a rock, wounded in the chest, blood seeping out. Someone tried to set up the light machine gun, but just as it was set up, a shot came from the slope, chipping off the butt. The gunner's finger was still on the trigger when he collapsed. Someone nearby tried to take the light machine gun, but as soon as he reached out, another bullet struck a rock, sending shards of stone flying. He pulled his hand back.

Communication between the front and rear was also cut off. A messenger tried to run back to the middle section from the landslide site to report the news, but he was mowed down by machine gun fire from the Second Battalion after only two steps. Another messenger tried to go around to the south entrance, but bullets from the Third Battalion blocked him back.

Panic spread from the back of the line to the middle.

Some people were shouting, some were lying on the ground pretending to be dead, and some were firing randomly up the slope. After running out of bullets, they didn't change the magazine, but just kept the empty gun clicking away.

Yamada stood up from behind the rock and drew his military sword.

The blade of the saber gleamed in the sunlight. He squinted and pointed the saber towards the west slope.

"West slope! Attack uphill! Capture the high ground!"

His soldiers charged.

The western slope was steep and narrow, making it impossible to run. The charging troops could only push their way up, one row at a time. Those in front climbed with bayonets at their sides, while those behind stepped on the shoulders of those in front to climb. Bushes on the slope were trampled down, and loose stones were kicked down, rolling to the bottom of the valley with a clanging sound.

Someone was halfway up when they slipped, lost their grip, and tumbled down, pulling the person behind them down with them. The two rolled together and landed on top of the people below.

Old Zhou didn't rush to fight.

He waited.

The First Battalion's rifles only opened fire when the Japanese soldiers reached the foot of the cliff. The foot of the cliff was where the slope met the rock face; those who rushed there had nowhere to hide but to stand pressed against the rock. The First Battalion's bullets came down from above, hitting the rock face, sending shards of rock flying, striking people's faces, hands, and necks. People fell, and those behind them stepped over their bodies to continue charging, only to be shot down again.

After two attempts, Yamada's troops were unable to advance.

At the foot of the cliff, a large number of people were piled up. Some were still moving, while others were motionless. One man was leaning against the rock face, still standing, but already dead, his eyes open, a large patch of blood staining his chest. A soldier next to him took a few bullets from him and put them into his own ammunition box.

---

Some soldiers retreated to the south.

They had barely retreated a few steps when Yamada dispatched military police to press forward. The military police stood behind, bayonets at the ready to stab anyone who retreated. A private turned around, trying to run backward, when a bayonet pierced his lower back. The private cried out and fell to the ground, his voice drowned out by the gunfire.

The other soldiers dared not retreat.

With Eighth Route Army soldiers in front and bayonets behind, they could only move forward.

Zhao Gang listened to the report in the command post and frowned.

"Yamada is using soldiers' lives to fill a hole."

Zhao Weiguo looked at the map without looking up.

He had no other choice.

Zhao Gang did not respond.

He moved the oil lamp aside and looked at the map closely for a while. The map had a red line drawn by Zhao Weiguo, circling Zhao Jia Yu into a pocket.

---

From the north entrance, some people attempted a concentrated breakout.

More than a hundred people charged from the bottom of the valley toward the north entrance, bayonets at their feet, shouting something, but their voices were too loud and drowned out by the gunfire, so it was impossible to hear what they were shouting. They rushed to the vicinity of the valley entrance and stepped on a booby trap laid by the engineering company.

Booby traps are modified landmines; stepping on one will cause it to explode.

The first few men were torn down by shrapnel. Those behind them stepped over them and continued running, but then someone else stepped on a landmine. After two more explosions, the remaining men dared not move, lying prone behind the rubble and firing towards the north entrance.

The engineer company's machine gun swept across the trenches, bullets hitting the rocks and sending shards of stone flying. Those trying to break through lay prone behind the rocks, unable to advance or retreat. One man lay prone behind a rock, bullets hitting his head sending sparks flying; he lay there, too afraid to move, his trousers soaked.

Zhao Weiguo picked up the microphone.

"The anvil calls for the iron wall. The Third Battalion is advancing from the south entrance. Don't rush into hand-to-hand combat; advance with rifles and provide machine gun cover. Tighten the encirclement."

Old Qian received the order.

He led the 3rd Battalion into the valley. Step by step. Riflemen were in front, taking three steps, pausing, firing a shot, and then moving on. Machine gunners provided cover from behind, their guns pointed at the valley floor and both sides. The soldiers behind followed in the footsteps of those in front, their steps small, but each one firm and measured.

Then something went wrong.

The Second Battalion's radio suddenly went down.

Old Zhou's radio operator shook the microphone three times, but all he heard in the earpiece was a static crackling sound. Zhao Gang tried the backup frequency at the command post, but it didn't work either.

Zhao Weiguo stared at the location of the Second Battalion on the map. It was in the middle of the eastern slope, separated by the entire valley floor. The radio was down; he couldn't reach them from the eastern slope.

Thirty seconds later, the gunfire from the south side of the east slope suddenly intensified.

Someone is rushing up the east slope.

Zhao Weiguo raised his binoculars. In the southern part of the middle section of the eastern slope, more than thirty people emerged from the crevices in the rocks and crawled along a dry gully towards the flank. The Second Battalion's firepower was entirely focused on the front; there were very few men on the flank.

That was a gap in the junction between the Second and Third Battalions. The dry ditch stretched up from the valley floor, cutting a section of the defensive line, about fifty meters long. When the Third Battalion pushed in, this gap was exposed and the Japanese army found it.

"Old Qian," Zhao Weiguo said into the microphone, "there are more than thirty people climbing up the slope through the gap on the south side of the east side. You send a platoon from the south entrance to block the dry ditch on the south side of the east slope."

Old Qian's voice came through the microphone, sounding breathless.

"Roger that. The second row has already moved over there."

Through the binoculars, the men of the second platoon of the third battalion ran from the south entrance along the foot of the slope towards the south side of the east slope. They were running very fast; some of them tripped and fell while running, but got up and continued running.

They were about two minutes behind the Japanese troops.

Two minutes.

When the second platoon climbed to the south side of the eastern slope, the Japanese vanguard had already reached the halfway point. The second platoon leader fired three shots with his pistol, and the two in front of him fell. The men behind looked back, realized their retreat was blocked, hesitated for a moment, and then began to charge towards the top of the slope.

The Second Battalion redirected some of its firepower, sweeping from the front to the flanks.

The Japanese troops were trapped between the front of the Second Battalion and the flank of the platoon, unable to advance or retreat.

Five minutes later, the hillside fell silent.

Zhao Weiguo put down his binoculars. The radio hadn't been restored yet, so he ordered Zhao Gang to send someone to run to the Second Battalion to fill the gap at the junction.

The encirclement is still shrinking inward.

---

Yamada discovered that the Eighth Route Army troops at the south entrance were pushing into the valley.

He looked back. He couldn't break through the north gate, he couldn't advance up the west slope, and the people at the south gate were retreating in. The fire from the east slope was still coming, bullets flying overhead and hitting the rocks at the bottom of the valley. He listened to the direction and density of the gunfire; it was coming from all directions.

He stared in the direction of Nankou, his lips pale.

He gathered the last fifty men around him. They were all military police and veterans, bayonets at the ready, ready to charge from the north entrance.

The adjutant grabbed his arm.

"Lieutenant Colonel, let's break out," the adjutant said. "You're the commander; you can't die here. If you remain commander, you can return and lead troops."

Yamada shook off his hand.

"I don't believe it. I don't believe a mere Eighth Route Army youth regiment commander could devour 1,100 of my men."

He drew his military knife and raised it above his head.

"Chong——"

Gardenia is in a sniping position on the east slope, and the barrel of a Mosin-Nagant's gun protrudes from among the bushes.

She had been watching Yamada for a long time. When Yamada raised his sword to give instructions, his body emerged from behind the rock, his chest exposed in her sights. Four hundred paces, the wind was slightly to the right. She waited two seconds; the wind subsided.

Pull the trigger.

The bullet struck Yamada in the chest.

Yamada leaned back, his military knife flying from his hand and landing with a clang in the dust. He knelt on the ground, his left hand clutching his chest, blood streaming down and soaking the front of his uniform. His eyes were still open, staring towards the valley entrance for a long while before collapsing to the ground.

The adjutant rushed over and shouted.

Yamada didn't move.

With Yamada's death, the remaining troops' command line was severed.

Some dropped their guns and knelt down, raising their hands above their heads. Some tried to resist, charging up the slope with bayonets, only to be hit by rifles from the First Battalion. Others crouched in the crevices of the rocks, covering their heads.

Zhao Weiguo picked up the microphone.

"Anvil calling to all battalions. Cease fire, stop wasting bullets. Take control of prisoners, search for grenades, and treat our wounded. Do not steal the spoils; wait for orders to distribute them."

Upon receiving orders, each battalion began to regroup. The first battalion on the west slope went down first, gathering the surrendered Japanese soldiers in an open area at the bottom of the valley, confiscating their weapons and searching their bodies. One soldier was kneeling on the ground with his hands raised high; his uniform pockets were bulging, and they found several pieces of dry rations inside.

The Second Battalion at Dongpo cleared out the remaining enemy forces in the middle of the valley. The Third Battalion at Nankou continued to push into the valley, forcing the scattered Japanese troops together.

Chen An led the medical team into the valley from the north entrance. They started from the valley edge, checking the wounded one by one. They checked their own men first, then the Japanese soldiers. There weren't enough bandages, so some wounded soldiers had to be temporarily bandaged with torn pieces of their uniforms. One wounded soldier had been shot in the thigh, and Chen An knelt down to cut his trouser leg. The wounded soldier didn't cry out, he just bit his lip.

Zhao Gang arranged for the registration of prisoners and battlefield security. He had the prisoners squat in a row, and he registered their names, ranks, and units one by one. The prisoners squatted in a group, some with their heads down, not looking at anyone, some hugging their knees and curling up in a ball, and some staring at a corpse on the ground, motionless.

---

Zhao Weiguo walked from the command post to the valley entrance.

He walked to the pile of prisoners and squatted down. A soldier from the Third Battalion picked up Yamada's sword and handed it to Lao Qian. Lao Qian looked at it, then handed it to the communications soldier, asking him to deliver it to the regimental headquarters.

The signalman presented Zhao Weiguo with a military knife. It was a standard Japanese knife, with a leather cord wrapped around the hilt and a brass scabbard engraved with cherry blossom patterns. There was blood on the blade, which gleamed darkly in the sunlight.

Zhao Weiguo took the military knife without looking at it.

"How many casualties did the Independent Regiment suffer?" he asked.

The communications soldier was taken aback.

"The statistics aren't finished yet."

"Go ask," Zhao Weiguo said. "Report the battle results later; report the casualties first."

The communications soldier ran away.

Zhao Gang walked over to him and looked at the knife.

"Yamada's?"

Zhao Weiguo nodded.

"It was Gardenia who hit it."

He placed his sword on a nearby rock and looked down into the valley. The smoke had cleared, and the corpses and rubble at the bottom of the valley were clearly visible in the sunlight. Surrendered Japanese soldiers squatted in the open space, surrounded by soldiers of the Independent Regiment.

"First, ask about the casualties," Zhao Weiguo said in a low voice. "The results of the battle can't be hidden, but I need to know the name of every single casualty."