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

The retreat order arrived in Kinoshita's hands at noon on October 3rd. He read it twice and burned it in front of several company commanders.

"Abandon the area south of Sandaoliang. Put the seriously wounded on the trucks, and abandon half of the grain. Do not abandon the artillery."

No one uttered a sound. Everyone understood the weight of the phrase "the cannon cannot be lost." Mountain cannons had to be carried by mules and horses, and if there weren't enough mules and horses, they had to be carried by people. The thirty-five-kilometer mountain road, carrying cannons and dragging the wounded, no one knew how many days it would take.

"route?"

"Only the North Mountain Road remains." The staff officer spread out the map. "The East Trail was washed away by the rains of the past two days, and the West Wooden Bridge can't withstand the mountain guns."

Kinoshita stared at that line on the map for a long time. From Yangquan to Beishankou, it was thirty-five kilometers, flanked by mountains with a ravine running through the middle. It was the only road, and also the most dangerous. There was no other way.

"Move at night. The vanguard leads the way, the main force follows, and the rearguard covers the rear." He paused, then added, "Send a telegram to Yangquan, asking them to send troops to meet us."

The telegram was sent out at four o'clock in the afternoon.

Seventeen minutes later, Zhi Zi from the Independent Regiment's communication station intercepted the call sign. Almost simultaneously, a message came from an inside source within the puppet army: the East Small Road was indeed cut off, the West Wooden Bridge could not withstand the mountain guns, and Mu Xia could only take the North Mountain Road, and was requesting reinforcements from Yangquan.

Zhi Zi spread the two intelligence reports on the table. "This is the only way he can go. And Yangquan can't send any troops."

Zhao Weiguo stared at the map. The North Mountain Road, thirty-five kilometers long, stretched from Sanglin'ao to the North Pass, flanked by mountains with a ravine running through the middle. It was a good place for an ambush, but also a place where people could easily escape.

How many people?

"Two thousand six hundred, including over four hundred puppet troops. Four mountain guns and two infantry guns. Over two hundred seriously wounded and over four hundred lightly wounded." Duan Peng smacked his lips. "Enough to feed them."

Zhao Weiguo didn't respond to that. He picked up a red pencil and drew a line along the North Mountain Road. "No rush. Let him go for two days."

Duan Peng was taken aback. "Let him go?"

"Hold on tight, but don't kill him." Zhao Weiguo pointed to the map. "If we chase too closely, he won't dare stop. He'll build fortifications on the spot and fight to the death. If we let him go, he'll think he can escape, so he won't stop, and he won't be able to build fortifications. After two days, his men will be exhausted, the wounded will fall behind, and the puppet troops' morale will collapse. When we reach the North Pass, we'll be trapped."

Duan Peng thought for a moment, then grinned. "Damn it, walking the dog."

"Walking the dog." Zhao Weiguo put down the red pencil. "But make sure your pockets are securely tied."

The four-stage plan was finalized that evening.

The first section, from Sanglin'ao to Sandaoliang, is twelve kilometers long. Duan Peng led his cavalry, with three groups taking turns appearing, maintaining a distance of five to eight li from the enemy's tail, neither too close nor too far. This allowed Kinoshita to see that someone was pursuing them, yet unable to catch up or shake them off.

The second section is Shimen Bridge. Zhao Tieshan led the artillery battalion, setting up six cannons on both sides of the hillside to build the bridge deck.

The third section, North Pass. Li Dazhu led the Second Battalion to dig ambush bags, waiting for the fish to enter the net.

The fourth section is located outside Tongyangquan. A cordon is established, and the pursuers are not allowed into the city.

Zhao Tieshan inquired about the artillery shells. Of the shells captured at Sanglin'ao, only forty-six were usable. That's less than eight shells per cannon on average.

"Eight shots at most per gate," Zhao Tieshan said, holding up two fingers. "Knock down four gates, and use your sabers to cut down the remaining two."

Duan Peng chuckled. "You artillery battalion commander, you're so stingy."

"I'm not stingy," Zhao Tieshan said without a smile. "We only have so many shells. Every shell we fire is one less. If we can't knock down all four, I'll take my saber."

Zhao Weiguo looked at him. "I want those four mountain guns from Kinoshita."

"Yes," Zhao Tieshan nodded, "but there's one condition: if there are wounded soldiers on the bridge, I will cease fire."

No one spoke in the room. Zhao Weiguo stared at him for two seconds. "Approved."

On the first day, Duan Peng only chased for twelve kilometers.

The three cavalry units stayed five to eight li away from Kinoshita's rear, taking turns appearing. They would appear on the left slope at noon, on the right slope in the afternoon, and fire a few shots from behind at dusk. Not many, just three to five shots at a time. Enough to keep Kinoshita on edge.

Kinoshita dared not stop. He had intended to find a good spot to build fortifications and wait for reinforcements from Yangquan. But the pursuers behind him were relentless, like a dog biting his trouser leg. If he stopped to build fortifications, they would also stop and keep watching. If he moved, they would follow.

Kinoshita left two hundred men in an ambush in a ravine that night, waiting for the pursuers to slip into their trap. They waited until midnight, but not a single person appeared. Duan Peng had already circled around the ridge. The two hundred men waited until dawn, only to find themselves separated from their ranks.

The Third Battalion secretly took the last two grain carts under cover of night. The drivers were puppet soldiers. When they saw the Eighth Route Army arrive, they threw down their guns and squatted by the roadside, even helping to unload the grain sacks from the carts.

Starting the next day, the puppet troops began to scatter. At first, it was one or two, then seven or eight at a time. They threw down their guns, took off their uniforms, and ran into the mountains towards Yangquan. The Japanese dared not pursue them. If they did, they themselves might not return.

Kinoshita knew the morale of the troops was crumbling. He urged them to move even faster. When the wounded couldn't keep up, he left the lightly wounded behind to walk, while the seriously wounded were crammed into the trucks. When there weren't enough trucks, he threw away the ration bags. By the afternoon of the next day, only seven of the nine trucks were still drivable; the other two had broken down on the road and were abandoned.

The four mountain guns are still there. When the mules or horses die, they are carried by men. Eight men work in shifts, moving forward step by step, with each gun in its place.

The next afternoon, Kinoshita's vanguard arrived at Shimen Bridge.

Shimen Bridge is a narrow stone bridge, barely wide enough for two cars to pass side by side. Below the bridge is a dry ditch, several meters deep. Beyond the bridge lies the North Mountain Pass.

The vanguard had just stepped onto the bridge when the first shell landed.

The car that was in the lead vehicle was hit. The front of the car was flipped open, the hood flew off, and black smoke billowed out. The driver was thrown from the cab and landed on the bridge, where he did not move.

The second shot hit the ammunition truck. The shell boxes stacked inside the truck were thrown into the air, some falling into the ditch, others scattering on the bridge surface.

The third shot hit the center of the bridge. A mountain gun tractor was struck squarely, its body tilted, and it came to rest across the bridge. The vehicles behind it could not pass.

Zhao Tieshan stood on the hillside, holding up his binoculars. Beside him, six cannons were already set up, and the gunners crouched behind them, awaiting orders.

"Stop," Zhao Tieshan suddenly said.

The gunner was taken aback. "Battalion Commander?"

Zhao Tieshan pointed to the bridge. Two stretchers lay on the side of the bridge, with two seriously wounded Japanese soldiers on them. The stretcher bearers had already run away, leaving the two wounded men lying on the side of the bridge, not knowing where to move.

"Three minutes." Zhao Tieshan put down his binoculars. "Wait three minutes."

No one spoke. The gunners exchanged glances, but none of them asked why. They knew their battalion commander's temperament. He'd be stingy with shells, but he wouldn't use a stretcher.

Three minutes later, the two wounded men crawled to the side of the bridge. Zhao Tieshan raised his hand. "Shoot."

The fourth, the fifth, the sixth shot. The bridge was blown apart, and rubble flew everywhere. Kinoshita's vanguard was trapped at the bridgehead, unable to advance or retreat.

Kinoshita was in the main force. Seeing that the bridge was blocked and the artillery fire was fierce, he immediately made a decision: abandon the vehicle and a mountain gun, and cross the river in three groups.

The first unit abandoned two vehicles, followed by lightly wounded soldiers, and waded across the dry ditch. The second unit abandoned a mountain gun; the gunner disassembled the gun and jumped into the ditch. The third unit, the main force, led by Kinoshita himself, protected the remaining three mountain guns and bypassed the bridge from the south side.

Zhao Tieshan watched Mu Xia cross the river but didn't pursue. The cannons were out of ammunition. Six cannons, eight rounds each, for a total of forty-eight rounds; forty-six were actually fired. The last two were duds.

He put down his binoculars. "Knock down both doors."

The remaining two mountain guns were taken by Kinoshita. Zhao Tieshan stared towards the North Pass. "Li Dazhu, it's up to you now."

North Pass, three kilometers of ambush bags.

Li Dazhu had been waiting for a long time.

The Second Battalion was deployed on both sides of the ditch, divided into three sections. Li Dazhu lay prone on the slope, holding three wooden sticks in his hands. One stick was for marking the vanguard, one for marking the artillery vehicles, and one for marking the rearguard.

"Battalion Commander, the vanguard has arrived."

Li Dazhu planted the first wooden stick in the ground. "Don't move. Let him pass."

The first group, led by Kinoshita, consisted of over a hundred lightly wounded soldiers and stragglers. They stumbled across the ditch, not looking left or right, just moving forward. Li Dazhu let them pass.

The second wooden stick. The artillery carriage arrived. Three mountain cannons, each carried by eight men, the gun carriages creaking as they were dragged, the barrels thudding against the roadside stones. Li Dazhu stared at the three cannons, his eyes unblinking.

The artillery piece moved into the middle section. Li Dazhu inserted the second wooden stick.

The rear guard arrived. Kinoshita himself, leading over a hundred Japanese soldiers, protected the last section. Li Dazhu planted the third wooden stick.

"Don't close the door until the car comes in," Li Dazhu muttered to himself.

The last car entered the middle section.

Li Dazhu waved his hand downwards.

The landmines on both sides of the ditch detonated simultaneously. Two muffled booms followed, and smoke and dust sealed off both ends of the ditch. Vehicles inside could neither advance nor retreat.

"There's an ambush!"

The Japanese troops in the ditch panicked. Kinoshita reacted quickly and immediately organized a breakout. The first attempt was to rush north, but they were pushed back by crossfire. The second attempt was to rush south, but they were pushed back again.

The third time, Kinoshita drew his sword and personally led his men to charge the south side of the scree slope.

He was in his fifties, and had injured his right leg at Sanglin'ao, causing him to walk with a slight limp. But he was surprisingly fast when he charged. His command sword flashed in the sunlight on the slope.

A shell landed.

Kinoshita's right leg was severed. He fell on the gravel slope, his sword braced against a rock, and he didn't fall. He tried to get up, but a burst of machine gun fire swept in and hit him in the chest.

Kinoshita lay prone on the slope, his sword still resting on the rock. His eyes were open, gazing in the direction of Yangquan.

When the remaining troops in the ditch saw that their commander was dead, they scattered. Some threw down their guns to surrender, some ran into the mountains, and some knelt on the ground with their hands raised.

Li Dazhu stood up and dusted himself off. "Let's close the net."

Zhao Gang's receiving point was pre-set.

Four receiving points were set up at Beishankou, each with a sign indicating: Officers, Japanese Soldiers, Puppet Soldiers, and Wounded Soldiers. Each prisoner was assigned a unit, their unit number verified, and their name registered.

The torches burned until dawn.

The numbers closed at noon the next day.

Kinoshita's retreating group totaled 2,600. 1,810 died, 503 were captured, and 287 escaped. 2,600, not one missing.

The Independent Regiment suffered 89 dead and 226 wounded.

Captured: Two mountain guns, one missing its breechblock. Only two vehicles were still operational. Over a thousand rifles and three and a half boxes of artillery shells.

Zhao Gang handed the ledger to Zhao Weiguo. Zhao Weiguo flipped through two pages and stopped at the list of the fallen. There were eighty-nine names; he recognized some and didn't.

He closed the ledger. "Read it."

Zhao Gang was taken aback. "What?"

"Read the list of the fallen." Zhao Weiguo looked towards the direction of Beishankou. "Read them all. One by one."

Zhao Gang nodded, opened the ledger, and began reading from the first name.

The ravine was quiet, but his voice carried far. Eighty-nine names, some with their place of origin, some without, some with only a nickname. By the time he finished reading, it was already dusk.

Zhao Weiguo took the ledger and handed it to Zhizi. "File it."

He turned and looked at the map. The arrow for Beishan Road had been erased. The red pencil had been moved to the outskirts of Yangquan.

"Outside Yangquan." Zhao Weiguo drew a line under these three words, "Close the net."

On the table next to the map lay a cloth bag. Inside were two swords, one belonging to Ohno and the other to Kinoshita. Both were clean and placed side by side, their hilts pointing in the same direction.