Even if I'm a useless bum at Whampoa Military Academy, I'll be invincible in the War of Re

At Shimenkou, after the Japanese had used their three main tactics, the two sides reached a stalemate and entered a war of attrition.

The Japanese infantry group was suppressed by the defending forces' firepower halfway up the mountain, and every step forward required heavy casualties.

The same was true of the 646th Regiment of the defending troops. They held their ground in the trenches and kept firing at the Japanese until they were killed or wounded. Even those with minor injuries did not leave the front line.

Sniper Mo Songlin has started his favorite hunting mode again. He is now a silver-level sniper, ranking among the best in the entire battalion.

The company commander's order to him was to keep a close watch on the Japanese grenade launchers and absolutely prevent them from attacking the machine gun positions, as the damage they would cause would be too great.

After restoring the first line of defense, the 646th Regiment deployed a large number of machine guns inside, but with relatively few personnel; this was the "light force, heavy firepower" strategy.

These are all Braun assault rifles or Czech light machine guns, highly mobile, each capable of controlling a 30-meter front, ensuring continuous firepower while greatly reducing casualties.

The Japanese used the same old tactic, sending out a large number of grenade launcher teams to deal with the machine guns. Mo Songlin hid inside the first line of defense and quickly locked onto a main gunner.

The grenade launcher had barely peeked out when Mo Songlin fired his gun. The bullet pierced the steel helmet, sending the Japanese soldier to his doom.

Mo Songlin's face remained calm, as if he had slaughtered an animal with ease and without any psychological pressure.

The moment the gun fired, he ducked into the trench and changed firing positions along the trench. Just as he ducked, a burst of machine gun fire sent dust flying.

Mo Songlin didn't take it to heart; this was a tactical skill he had developed over a long period of time, honed by the lives of hundreds of Japanese soldiers.

"boom!"

A 90mm mortar shell landed in the trench, killing the machine gunner who had been firing instantly and seriously wounding the assistant gunner.

Mo Songlin aimed his gun at the direction of the Japanese artillery, which was at least two kilometers away, so he had no choice but to give up.

His longest kill distance was only a little over 700 meters, which was already his limit.

Since the Japanese army equipped themselves with the Type 94 90mm mortar, the survival time of the Nationalist army's machine guns has been greatly reduced, and only the 75mm mortars can reach them.

The Japanese mortars were a major success, destroying five machine guns of the defending troops in a short time and causing more than ten casualties.

The regimental headquarters could only send out 75mm mountain guns to suppress the enemy, and adopted a wait-and-see approach, finally catching the Japanese soldiers.

Three 75mm shells rained down from the sky, covering the entire Japanese artillery unit. The mortars were twisted into mangled pieces, and most of the personnel were killed or wounded.

Unwilling to accept defeat, the Japanese continued to exchange fire with the defending artillery, only to be utterly crushed.

The 75mm mortar is simply no match for it; its range is too great.

The 75mm mortar has a range of over 5,000 meters, so how can a mortar with a maximum range of 3800 meters be fired?

Mortars could only be used for close-range ambushes. The Japanese 75mm artillery group also joined the battle. Shells from both sides whizzed overhead, resulting in casualties on both sides.

Mo Songlin continued hunting down Japanese technical soldiers and officers as before, his record steadily improving, bringing him much closer to becoming a gold-level sniper.

"Bang!"

A 6.5mm bullet grazed past Mo Songlin's helmet, startling him into a cold sweat; it was definitely not a stray bullet.

"Damn it, it's a competitor!"

The Japanese soldiers were very well hidden. He almost lost his life, yet he didn't even discover their location. It was too strange.

Fortunately, fate gave him a chance to use a machine gun. Mo Songlin instantly entered a state of complete absorption, his eyes slightly closed, and the hairs on his body stood on end.

He was searching for the location of the Japanese soldiers, but unfortunately he had no clue whatsoever and could only wait patiently.

Lieutenant Hatano was very frustrated. His record of hitting the target 37 times in a row came to an abrupt end. His shot was too difficult, otherwise he would not have missed.

Although he missed the target, he didn't take Mo Songlin seriously; his only regret was that the record was interrupted.

Lieutenant Hatano had received professional sniper training and was well disguised; no one could spot him.

As time went on, the Japanese commander seemed to lose patience and kept urging his soldiers to advance.

Unable to restrain himself, Lieutenant Hatano, after remaining silent for half an hour, finally couldn't help but fire another shot, hitting a sniper from the fourth company at a distance of more than 500 meters.

Mo Songlin keenly sensed the other party's presence. Although he couldn't pinpoint the exact location, he knew the general area.

After the cunning Lieutenant Hatano hit the target with his first shot, he did not change his sniping position like Mo Songlin did, because the conditions did not allow it.

The Japanese soldiers were all exposed in the open, while Mosonglin had trenches that could conceal their movements.

Bullets continued to whiz around, and people kept falling, including Japanese soldiers and members of the 646th Regiment.

Lieutenant Hatano remained calm and waited a full thirty-two minutes before firing again. This time, a machine gunner was hit; the bullet pierced his helmet precisely, and blood oozed from the bullet hole.

Lieutenant Hatano's smile froze. He practically watched the bullet pierce his forehead, having no time to dodge.

In the instant his consciousness faded, he regretted it. He had been too greedy and shouldn't have fired before the greatest threat was eliminated.

Mo Songlin knew he had made a kill the moment the bullet left the barrel, so he didn't check the results. Instead, he quickly retreated into his cover and changed positions along the trench.

Mo Songlin survived to this day by relying on this cautious fighting style, crawling out of the pile of corpses in Jinling City.

The battle between the two sides continued. Mo Songlin kept changing positions in the trenches, and every time he made a move, he achieved a victory, and the number of enemies killed kept climbing.

Rifleman Yao Zhe didn't experience as many thrilling moments as Mo Songlin. He was a veteran who treated every battle as if he were already dead.

The Garand automatic rifle in his hand was already fitted with a second steel 8-round clip, and he killed 3 Japanese soldiers. This was considered highly efficient in positional warfare, and only a veteran like Yao Zhe could do it.

He mechanically aimed and fired. The Japanese soldiers were well hidden, with only half of their helmets showing, making it difficult to hit them.

Bullets were fired one after another until a "ding" sound was heard, at which point the empty clip automatically popped out.

After emptying two magazines, Yao Zhe shrank back into the trench, let out a long sigh, then took an eight-round magazine from the canvas ammunition pouch, pressed it into the magazine, pulled the bolt to chamber a round, and completed his recovery.

The battle continued, and Yao Zhe cautiously poked his head out of the trench, revealing only half of his half-worn helmet. This was his little trick to save his life; if he were hit by a stray bullet, it would most likely just blow his helmet off.

Yao Zhe was lucky; no Japanese soldier noticed him as an ordinary rifleman. Soon, his eyes were fixed on a shifty-looking Japanese soldier.

Gunshots rang out, bullets grazing the Japanese soldiers' scalps, just a hair's breadth away. Yao Zhe was not discouraged; this was routine operation, and he continued.

Yao Zhe fired three shots in succession, finally hitting the Japanese soldier in the face. The 7.62mm bullet pierced a large hole in his face, leaving his entire face a bloody mess, unrecognizable even to his parents.

"boom!"

A shell landed, destroying the previously cheerful firing point, killing two and wounding one. The Japanese infantry guns posed a great threat; if you weren't careful, you could be hit by them all.

The 646th Regiment also had infantry guns, which destroyed many Japanese machine guns. The 60mm mortars were particularly effective, keeping the Japanese machine guns at bay.

The scales of victory were steadily tipping in favor of the 646th Regiment. The Japanese casualties were so high that the regimental commander's hands trembled, and the senior staff officer finally couldn't help but say:

"Commander, why don't we withdraw first? The Chinese firepower is still very strong. Let the artillery bombard us a few times before we attack."

The regimental commander wanted to curse, but he swallowed the words back and said coldly:

"A bunch of useless trash! Let them take it down, so they don't embarrass themselves."

The senior staff officer breathed a sigh of relief, and went to give the order with his sword slung over his shoulder. Colonel Shinji Satomi, commander of the 104th Regiment, put down his binoculars, and his straight back bent down considerably.

As the bugle sounded, the Japanese soldiers retreated while covering each other, some even taking seriously wounded soldiers with them.

"Trying to run? Take this shot!"

"Go to hell!"

Yao Zhe fired several shots, hitting another Japanese soldier in the back, earning +1.

A piercing whistle sounded from the position, and Yao Zhe nimbly slipped into the anti-artillery bunker. Before long, a hail of shells began to fall on the position, wave after wave, as if trying to flatten the hilltop.

Yao Zhe huddled in the simple artillery shelter, quietly waiting for the next offensive.