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

Before the third batch of wounded soldiers from Sandaoliang had been sent away, Zhao Weiguo had already pressed his finger to the southeast of Yangquan.

There was a Japanese puppet regime stronghold there, garrisoned by 480 men. Further north was a garrison battalion of about 700 men.

Zhi Zi spread out the three intelligence reports: "If the phone is still connected, reinforcements will arrive in an hour and a half. If the phone is disconnected, it will take at least three hours to send a message and regroup. The main force on the eastern route will turn back, which will take at least a day."

Zhao Weiguo drew a zigzag line along the map. Including mountain roads, highways, and the perimeter of the stronghold, the entire route was 62 kilometers long. Any delay in any part could result in running into the returning garrison.

"Duan Peng, three battalions of nine hundred men. Cavalry battalion of three hundred and twenty men. Engineer company of one hundred and twenty men. Total of one thousand three hundred and forty men."

Duan Peng didn't immediately accept the order. He first looked at the broken line before asking, "What happens after the radio is lost?"

"You cut it yourself."

There has to be a line.

Zhao Weiguo placed a pencil across the outside of the stronghold: "If reinforcements haven't arrived, attack. If the garrison arrives first, retreat. After the stronghold is captured, the enemy's main force will turn back; take what you can, don't defend."

Zhao Gang wrote the three points into the order and specifically had Duan Peng read them aloud.

The Independent Regiment's official strength remained at 12,000. The 96 dead at Sandaoliang were written off, and the 96 qualified replacements were simply used to fill vacancies in the original battalion; the total number remained unchanged. Those poisoned and seriously wounded were still lying in the aid station; no one could use their names to bolster combat strength.

The accompanying artillery consisted of two Type 92 infantry guns.

When the deputy battalion commander of the artillery went to the rescue cave to ask for instructions, Lao Zhou's left shoulder, right rib, and left thigh were all bandaged, and he was still on the stretcher. The dressings in the cave had just been changed, and the smell of blood mixed with the smell of damp grass. The deputy battalion commander stood by the stretcher, not even having had time to scrape the mud off his boots.

"Don't bring the mountain guns." After hearing the mission, Old Zhou only gave this one instruction. "Separate the two infantry guns, one team for the gun barrels, one team for the gun carriages, and one team for the ammunition. Once you arrive, only fire at the pillboxes and machine gun firing ports."

The deputy battalion commander mentally reviewed the three sentences, nodded, and prepared to leave.

Old Zhou called him back: "Tell Duan Peng that the cannon isn't there to embolden him. If he can't walk, save him first."

Zhao Tieshan also sent thirty additional heavy grenades. The design was not yet finalized, and they were only issued to engineers for close-range use, with a maximum of two grenades per group. No one was allowed to carry them while chasing people, let alone test them at a distance.

On the night of September 24th, the team set off.

Each person will be provided with fried noodles for two days. Horse feed will be buried in three mountain gullies in advance. No grain will be requisitioned along the way, and no villages will be entered. The first night's journey will be 35 kilometers, and before dawn, the horses will enter an abandoned mine. Their mouths will be gagged with cloth, and their manure will be bagged. Not even a wisp of smoke is allowed to escape from the mine entrance.

It was colder inside the mine than outside. People sat huddled together, no one daring to lie down, afraid of falling into a deep sleep and not being able to wake up. The cannon barrel was removed at the very back, the gun mount leaning against the stone wall, with a narrow passage between the ammunition boxes. Duan Peng walked from the entrance to the bottom of the mine, first touching the horse's nose, then the breechblock, and finally asking how many soldiers from each company had fallen behind.

Eleven men from the Third Battalion had blisters on their feet, and two engineers had their shoulders chafed raw by artillery shrapnel. Duan Peng didn't send them back; instead, he had the medic move them to the rear of the ammunition unit. Slower marchers could be reassigned, but the mission couldn't be glossed over with a simple "we can all manage."

On the second night, the cavalrymen found the telephone line first.

There were three breaks on each of the east and west sides, and a whole roll of wire in the middle was dragged into the ditch. Even if the patrolmen found the breaks, they would have to repair the wire first.

The engineers then set up two explosive charges on the highway. The first was to block vehicles, and the second was to cut off pursuing troops. The explosives were planted, but the soldiers didn't move immediately.

Duan Peng led the three battalions to approach the stronghold from the south.

There was an iron grate in the drainage ditch. The saw blade rubbed back and forth against the iron bars, the soft sound being drowned out by the ditch water. Just as the first bar broke, a patrolman walked by, his leather boots crunching on the gravel.

The men of the Third Battalion lay prone in the water, even suppressing their coughs.

The saw blade got stuck once. The sapper's palms were covered in mud, and the harder he tried, the more slippery it became. He had to stop, pull the saw blade back half an inch, and find a new opening. Duan Peng, outside the canal, couldn't hear what was happening inside; he only saw the agreed time slowly passing. The cavalry had already broken their lines, and the explosives on the road had been planted. If they retreated now, all the previous preparations would be wasted; if they waited any longer, the patrolmen might glance down at the canal opening at any moment.

He didn't urge him, but simply lowered his raised hand. Finally, the faint grinding sound of steel returned to the drainage ditch.

The iron fence was sawed open, and the first group of twelve men crawled inside. The patrolmen turned the corner, and the two sides collided a few steps away, with gunfire erupting on the spot.

The ambush couldn't be contained forever.

But the call had already been disconnected.

The cavalry simultaneously sabotaged the road to the north. The Third Battalion left a company to control the retreat route, while the main force pushed inward along the drainage ditch and the gap in the south wall. The cavalry battalion did not charge the blockhouse, but circled around to the north, dismounted, and blocked the exit, leaving only a platoon to keep watch on any potential pursuers.

The machine gun on the pillbox quickly turned to the south.

The two infantry guns were still being assembled a mile away. The gun barrels, carriages, and ammunition were transported by three teams before they were finally put back together. The first shot hit the base of the wall, the second shredded the outer edge of the firing port, and the third shot went in, causing a brief pause in the machine gun fire.

Taking advantage of the brief opening, the engineers pressed themselves against the corner of the wall and inserted a heavy grenade into the crack. After the explosion, a section of the stairs collapsed, and the men of the Third Battalion rushed into the telephone room and military warehouse from the other side.

Japanese radio operators have activated backup radios.

The call sign was interrupted halfway through when the radio was knocked to the ground. When Duan Peng received the report, his portable radio also malfunctioned, leaving only intermittent static.

"There are vehicle lights to the north!" A cavalry messenger rushed in. "The garrison is coming out."

"Where to?"

"We're still outside the first road closure, and we're getting off the bus to go around it."

Duan Peng looked down at his watch.

The north gate of the stronghold has been captured, and sporadic gunfire can still be heard from the pillbox. The military warehouse and communications room are in our hands. The garrison battalion did not arrive first.

The first criterion has been met.

"Keep fighting, take stock in half an hour. Anyone who dares to chase after us towards Yangquan City, I'll seize their horse first."

The battle for the stronghold ended before dawn.

The enemy suffered 301 dead, 149 captured, and 30 others escaped in the chaos. The cavalry only blocked the village entrance and mountain roads, without pursuing the enemy into the houses. The engineers destroyed the military warehouse and communications station, but the mine, winch, workers' dormitories, houses, and coal transport rails remained untouched.

The seized items included a mountain gun, over two hundred rifles, four trucks, and a batch of medicine and ammunition.

Duan Peng first ordered his men to seal the breech of the mountain gun. Without inspecting the rifling, breechblock, and sights, the gun was considered just a heavy weapon, and no one was allowed to include it in the artillery corps for the next battle.

Four trucks were fully loaded with what they could carry at once, with the wounded and medicine at the front. The trucks only had enough fuel for this trip; the fuel gauges were almost empty.

The most troublesome part of loading was actually the mountain gun. The artillery crew wanted to lift it up along with the gun carriage, which would mean less than a dozen boxes of ammunition in the wagon. Duan Peng had his men unload the carriage first, lay the gun horizontally, and stuff a stretcher and ammunition boxes into the gaps. A prisoner pointed to the canned food in the warehouse and said he could take it, but no one paid him any attention. The canned food was edible, but at the moment it wasn't worth a wounded soldier's place.

Another explosion came from the north.

The garrison bypassed the first blocked road and stumbled upon the second explosive point. The pursuers halted, but the main force on the eastern flank began to turn back. The note delivered by the cavalry contained only six words: "The sound of artillery fire from the east is fading."

The radio station has not yet been restored.

Duan Peng folded the note and stuffed it into his pocket.

The stronghold has been breached, and the enemy's main force has been mobilized.

The third standard has also been met.

"We'll leave as soon as we're done, without waiting for a reply from the regimental headquarters."

Some people were reluctant to part with the remaining ammunition in the warehouse: "Give us another half hour, and we can carry another batch."

"The garrison will be here in about half an hour. Those who can't be taken away will be dealt with according to orders, and the people will go back first."

The 3rd Battalion's garrison company took turns securing the retreat route, with the wounded, prisoners, and trucks leaving first, followed by the artillery crews, and the infantry leaving last. A cavalry platoon brought up the rear, only withdrawing after the main force had crossed the mountain pass.

The first truck started emitting white steam less than ten miles from the outpost. The driver wanted to stop to add water, but gunfire from behind was closing in, so he had to move the truck to a sheltered spot and let the wounded move to the second truck. Two soldiers used blankets to cushion their hands as they lifted the water tank cap, and hot steam rushed out, instantly beading their eyebrows with water.

The repairs were completed in a short time squeezed out along the way. When the vehicle was back on the road, the engine was still hot, and no one knew how much longer it could last. Duan Peng moved the cavalry to both sides of the convoy. If the vehicle really broke down, the wounded would be unloaded first, then the medicine, and only then would the artillery be unloaded.

No one rushed to Yangquan City, nor did anyone stay at the stronghold to plant a flag and defend the territory.

In the early morning of September 26, the raiding team returned to Beishan Road.

Thirty hours, sixty-two kilometers.

The first night's 35 kilometers left many feet blistered; on the return journey, the cloth strips and straw sandals stuck together, and when they stopped to tear them apart, they were stained with blood. However, the team did not stop in the villages along the way to beg for horse feed, and all three pre-buried pits were dug up, and the pit openings were filled with soil.

The four trucks only managed one evacuation, and all their fuel tanks were empty. Two of the engines were so hot that the caps couldn't be opened, and they had to be towed away for repairs. The remaining two trucks also needed their radiators and brakes checked and couldn't be driven again immediately.

The cooks from Beishan Road brought over a pot of thin porridge. The soldier at the front took the bowl, squatted down, and fell asleep, not even waking up when the porridge spilled onto the ground. The others walked around him and continued to get their bowls; no one tried to take it. By the time the medic woke him up, the bottom of the pot had been scraped down to the metal, and he had only received half a spoonful.

He glanced at his dusty trouser legs, rinsed the empty bowl with water, and didn't mention that his portion had just spilled.

In this battle, the Independent Regiment suffered 31 dead and 72 wounded. The officially authorized strength remained at 12,000. Not a single prisoner, puppet soldier, or contact person was added to the roster.

During the interrogation of the prisoners, Zhi Zi extracted the same sentence from several testimonies.

Some members of the puppet army in Yangquan were willing to exchange their garrison time on the condition that the Independent Regiment guarantee the safety of their families.

"Who is it?" Zhao Gang asked.

"All we know right now is that someone sent a message through us. Their identity hasn't been verified, and their family members haven't been identified either."

Zhao Gang tucked the paper into the file bag separately: "Verify the person first, don't rush to accept it."

Zhao Weiguo stood in front of the map, watching the arrows on the east and north routes begin to curve back.

The enemy forces withdrew their troops from the northern route and moved south, changing the timetable for the three-pronged encirclement for the first time. The reinforced battalion, which was originally pressing towards the central line, is also turning around, and its next move is likely to be to penetrate into Sanglin'ao from the southwest.

Zhao Weiguo crossed out the stronghold southeast of Yangquan.

"The four lines have been battered for so many days."

He pointed the pencil at the zigzag arrow.

"At least he turned around and looked at me."