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

At 4:00 AM on August 20th.

Inside the cave dwelling at the Baimaling regimental headquarters, Zhao Weiguo spoke three words into the microphone.

The same sound was heard simultaneously from four different directions through four headphones.

In the direction of Hankou, Lao Zhou's men had entered the platform four minutes ago. In the direction of Weijiazhuang, Lao Hu was lying prone on the hilltop 500 meters from the stronghold, waiting for confirmation of the positions of the two machine gun positions. In the direction of Changjiagou, Lao Zheng was still waiting for the mortar range calibration. In the direction of Zhangjiawan, Lao Niu's men had just cut the third barbed wire fence.

At a command, all four directions moved simultaneously.

Let's go back three minutes.

Old Hu lay prone on the hillside north of Weijiazhuang, a captured Type 38 rifle propped up in front of him. Beside him lay another man, a sharpshooter from the platoon named Sun. Sun had served in the Jin-Sui Army for two years before defecting to the Independent Regiment.

Shuanzi crouched behind the two men, watching the Weijiazhuang stronghold through binoculars.

The outpost was small. It consisted of a platform, a barracks, and two pillboxes. The pillboxes were not tall; the one on the east was five meters high, and the one on the west was six meters high, each equipped with a light machine gun. The distance between the two pillboxes was about three hundred meters, allowing them to support each other. There were about thirty Japanese soldiers and thirty puppet troops in the outpost.

Old Hu watched for a while and said, "Shoot the one on the east side first. The wind is blowing from the west, so the gunfire from the east will drown out the sounds from the west."

The sharpshooter surnamed Sun didn't say anything, but aimed his gun at the firing port of the eastern watchtower.

A fraction of a second later, he pulled the trigger.

The machine gunner in the eastern blockhouse leaned back, and the machine gun went silent.

Before the machine gunner in the western blockhouse could react, Old Hu fired his second gun. The machine gunner in the western blockhouse lay motionless on his machine gun.

The interval between the two shots should not exceed two seconds.

Old Hu stood up and made a gesture to the people below.

One hundred men broke down the gate from the north. Another hundred men blocked the path on the west side.

Before the puppet army patrol in Weijiazhuang could react, their leader was shot down by Lao Hu's Type 38 rifle. The remaining puppet soldiers lay on the ground, some shouting "Surrender! Surrender!"

Thirty Japanese soldiers rushed out of the barracks. A sergeant was shouting, trying to get the troops to retreat to the western path. The western path was blocked by Lao Hu's men.

The Japanese sergeant led a dozen or so men back, but their path was blocked by grenades. The blast wave knocked him to the ground, his command sword flying from his hand. He groped around on the dirt mound, finding a photograph tucked in his wallet. The photograph showed women and children; he stared at it for a moment, then his hand froze.

When Lao Hu's men rushed in front of him, he no longer resisted.

A new recruit from an independent regiment, rifle in hand, watched as a sergeant was dragged away. He turned around, leaned against the wall, and vomited.

Shuanzi walked over and patted him on the back.

"Hold your gun steady now that you've vomited. There's more fighting to come."

The recruit wiped his mouth and nodded.

At 5:30, Weijiazhuang was captured.

Thirty Japanese soldiers were either killed, wounded, or captured. All thirty puppet troops surrendered. Old Hu blew up the two pillboxes and the railway switch.

Old Hu's men suffered no major casualties.

Changjiagou direction.

Old Zheng stood on a hillside about 1,500 meters southwest of the stronghold, with four 60mm mortars mounted in front of him. Ammunition boxes next to him were piled with shells.

The layout of the Changjiagou stronghold differed from that of Weijiazhuang. There were no pillboxes; the bunkers were semi-underground structures built within the courtyard. The stronghold housed approximately thirty Japanese soldiers, twenty-five puppet troops, two machine guns, and one grenade launcher. The courtyard walls were low, but the firepower was concentrated within, making a frontal assault highly likely to result in heavy casualties.

Old Zheng decided to fire eight shots first.

The first shot missed the courtyard wall by about fifteen meters. After the gunner corrected the angle, the shell landed on the bunker next to the pillbox. The next shell, however, was too large and hit the roof of the outpost's kitchen.

Old Zheng walked over to the gunner and said, "It's off-center. Adjust it two notches to the right."

The gunner adjusted the angle.

The fourth shot landed on top of the bunker. Scrap stones flew up from the bunker.

The fifth and sixth shots landed between the bunker and the barracks. The seventh shot hit the telephone booth, severing the telephone line. The eighth shot landed on the machine gun position at the north gate.

After firing eight shots, a corner of the bunker collapsed, the telephone booth was gone, and smoke was coming from the machine gun position.

The outpost is in chaos.

Old Zheng shouted "Chong!"

Two hundred men rushed in from three directions. Several gaps in the courtyard wall were blasted open by grenades. The puppet troops were the first to surrender; twenty-five of them crouched in a corner, their guns on the ground. A Japanese lieutenant rushed out from behind the bunker, his face smeared with cigarette ash and burns, holding a command sword, intending to lead a charge.

There was no one following behind him.

The machine gun fired. The lieutenant fell.

At 6:15, Changjiagou was captured.

All Japanese casualties and prisoners were dealt with. Old Zheng seized the grenade launcher, led his men to blow up the stronghold, and blew up 100 meters of railway tracks on both sides.

The toughest is Zhangjiawan.

The Zhangjiawan outpost was small, but the sentries were very vigilant.

Old Niu's men had already reached the outer perimeter of the stronghold's barbed wire by 3 a.m. The special operations company was responsible for cutting through the barbed wire to clear a path, and the first two went smoothly. When they reached the last one, a soldier's hand touched a bell hanging on the barbed wire.

The bell rang.

The sentries at the outpost immediately sounded the alarm.

Old Niu's original plan was to sneak in, take out the machine gun positions first, and then surround the barracks. But once the alarm sounded, the plan was ruined. He had no choice but to charge in.

Zhao Weiguo heard bursts of gunfire coming from the direction of Zhangjiawan while at the regimental headquarters. He pressed his earpiece and asked a question.

The gunfire at Zhangjiawan was too loud for the other side to hear clearly.

"Old Niu, what's the situation on your end?"

Old Niu's voice came back intermittently, mixed with static: "We've been discovered. We have no choice but to attack head-on."

Zhao Weiguo: "Don't linger in the fighting. Control the machine guns first, then enter the compound."

Old Niu responded through the earpiece.

The machine guns in the stronghold had already opened fire. Lao Niu's men were pinned down outside the barbed wire, lying on the ground unable to lift their heads. A squad leader grabbed a soldier beside him and circled around to the side, throwing grenades toward the machine gun position. The machine gun on the left fell silent.

Taking advantage of the gap, Lao Niu led thirty men through the breach in the blasted barbed wire.

The second machine gun was still firing. A soldier fell beside the breach.

Old Niu rushed to a position about twenty meters away from the second machine gun and threw a grenade at it. The machine gun fell silent.

The Japanese soldiers inside the stronghold began to rush out. Old Niu's men poured in through the gap and blocked them back.

The fight in Zhangjiawan lasted for an hour.

At 7 o'clock, Zhangjiawan was captured.

The cost was the greatest. Twelve were killed, eight were seriously wounded, and nearly twenty were slightly wounded.

A sixteen-year-old soldier lay dead at a gap in the barbed wire, shot twice in the chest. He still clutched a grenade in his hand, unpinned. He shoved the grenade back into the hand of his comrade beside him, saying something like, "Don't lose it," before falling silent.

Old Niu saw the young soldier. He didn't cry or shout; he simply knelt down and closed the young soldier's eyelids. Then he stood up and ordered his men to seize the machine gun first, and then force the puppet troops to surrender.

Thirty-five Japanese soldiers were either annihilated or captured. Most of the puppet troops surrendered.

Old Niu gave Old Zhou the name of the young soldier.

Noon.

The explosions at the four strongholds of Hankou, Weijiazhuang, Changjiagou, and Zhangjiawan have all stopped.

The four sections of the First Battalion regrouped and rested at Baiyanglin, three kilometers west of Sanglin Town. The captured supplies, pulled by more than two hundred horses, were piled up at the edge of the forest, and the prisoners were squatting under a large tree.

Old Zhou summarized the results of the battle.

At several strongholds, a total of more than 210 Japanese and puppet troops were annihilated or captured.

On the Independent Regiment's side, seventeen were killed, twelve were seriously wounded, and thirty-five were slightly wounded.

The spoils piled up at the edge of the woods were enough to fill two large trucks. Old Zhou didn't count them carefully, but just glanced at them: heavy machine guns, light machine guns, rifles, and ammunition—enough to equip a battalion with some to spare.

Old Zhou reported the figures to Zhao Weiguo over the radio.

Zhao Weiguo was silent for a few seconds before saying something.

"The First Battalion will not launch a full-scale attack tonight. They will rest, guard prisoners, and transfer captured goods. Tomorrow, Li Dazhu of the Second Battalion will take over Sanglin Town and Zhao Village."

Old Zhou responded and put down his headphones.

He walked to the edge of the poplar grove. The body of the sixteen-year-old boy soldier had already been carried to the foot of the tree, covered with a gray cloth torn from the Japanese soldier's uniform.

Old Zhou squatted down and tucked the corner of the cloth in.

No one around spoke.