The War of Resistance Against Japan: Starting with a Calm View of Life and Death

As Zhao Yi spoke, he quickly made several movements. The wooden stick seemed to come alive in his hands as he pointed, stabbed, swept, and flicked, his movements fast and ruthless, leaving the surrounding soldiers dazzled.

On a more distant hillside, Sun Erniu led a dozen or so soldiers he had selected, known for their sharp eyesight and steady hands, in specialized shooting training.

In front of each of them were several stones of varying sizes, ranging from fifty to two hundred meters apart.

"Shooting at stationary targets is fundamental. When you're actually on the battlefield, the Japanese won't just stand there and let you aim." Sun Erniu lay behind a rock, his voice low but clear. "Wind, light, terrain, even how fast your heart beats, will all affect where the bullets fly and hit."

Today's training isn't about hitting the target, it's about aiming accurately. See that bluish-green rock? It's about 170 meters away. The goal isn't to shatter it with a single shot, but for every three shots, at least two must hit the rock squarely.

He picked up his Type 38 rifle, which he had carefully selected from among the captured guns; the rifle was in excellent condition, and the scope had been meticulously wiped clean. He inhaled, held his breath, and pulled the trigger.

"Bang!"

The blue stone in the distance swayed slightly, sending stone chips flying. He didn't fire a second shot immediately, but slowly ejected the spent cartridge, reloaded, adjusted his breathing, and aimed again.

"Bang!"

The stone wobbled again.

"See that?" Sun Erniu put away his gun. "No rush. Stay calm. Fire only when you're sure. Twenty bullets each. Check the target after you're done. Anyone who misses more than five shots will have extra shooting practice this afternoon, with bricks hanging from the muzzle of their gun."

Gunshots, shouts, chants, and the clanging of metal filled the entire back mountain, shattering the winter silence of the mountains.

Zhou Jindong did not stay in one place for long.

He walked slowly between the various training areas with his hands behind his back.

He didn't talk much, he just watched.

Sometimes I would stop and watch a soldier repeat a movement until he got it right. Sometimes I would walk over, take the gun from the soldier's hand, practice the movements a few times, then hand it back to the soldier, saying, "Loosen your grip a bit, relax your shoulders."

We ate lunch together with the soldiers, squatting by the training ground.

The food is much better than before.

The soldiers ate cornbread and drank hot soup, and the fatigue from training seemed to have dissipated from their faces.

Two days later, early in the morning.

The gunshots and shouts from the training ground rang out on time as always, but the energy in those voices was clearly different.

At first, I was unfamiliar with things and relied on the excitement of being disarmed to keep going.

Now, the shooting motion is more nimble, and the footwork in bayonet fighting is more solid.

Even the soldiers most afraid of machine guns dared to hold the Type 92 heavy machine gun, put on the ammunition guard, and listen to the instructor Feng Shaohui's command "Short burst! Fire!", their fingers steadily pressing down, the "rat-a-tat-tat—rat-a-tat-tat—" sound was evenly spaced, unlike the previous days when they either held it all at once or couldn't produce a single sound for a long time.

Zhou Jindong squatted behind the earthen embankment in the heavy machine gun training area, squinting at the target.

The targets were a few old door panels with crooked circles drawn on them using soot from the bottom of a pot.

The assistant gunner trained by Feng Shaohui was deftly changing the red-hot barrel. He unscrewed the scalding sleeve with a wrench, removed it, and then inserted the spare, clicking it shut with a sound. The whole process took less than a minute.

"Alright, let's move on to the next group." Zhou Jindong stood up and brushed the dirt off his knees.

Feng Shaohui responded and waved to the soldiers lining up over there: "Third Company machine gun squad, take over! Pay attention to the field of fire, the Second Company is practicing bayonet fighting ahead, raise your gun muzzles two inches!"

Zhou Jindong walked down the hillside. In the threshing ground, Wang Yuan was with several clerks, counting the remaining supplies and writing them down in a crumpled notebook. Seeing Zhou Jindong approach, Wang Yuan closed the notebook and took the half-pencil that was stuck in his ear.

"Captain."

How much is left?

"We'll eat two thin meals and one solid meal a day, mixed with wild vegetables, enough to last until spring. We'll use the bullets sparingly, enough for two tough battles." Wang Yuan flipped through his notebook. "But we can't fire the shells indiscriminately. Every shell we use is one less we have to save for a critical moment."

"Where are the grenades?"

"Between the cannons made in the border region and those made by the Japanese, each person could still get four or five cannons."

Zhou Jindong nodded without saying a word. He walked to the pile of ammunition and lifted a corner of the tarpaulin covering it.

The wooden crates were stacked neatly, with Japanese markings painted on them.

He picked up a bullet clip; the golden bullets gleamed coldly in the morning light.

It has a heavy, substantial feel.

Suddenly, the sound of horses' hooves came from afar, very urgent.

Zhou Jindong and everyone else looked up.

A fast horse galloped from the direction of Dongzhai Town, its hooves kicking up a trail of dust.

The rider, leaning over his horse, called out from afar, "Captain Zhou! Is Captain Zhou here?"

It was Xiao Li from the communications squad of the main regiment.

He reined in his horse, almost rolling off. He stumbled and ran over as soon as his feet touched the ground, his face covered in sweat and mud, his chest heaving violently, his hand tightly clutching a thin bamboo tube sealed tightly with oiled paper and wax.

"Commander Zhou... Battalion Commander!" Xiao Li gasped for breath, "An urgent secret order from the military region!"

The sounds of training around them seemed to be cut off, and they quickly fell silent.

Gao Jun, Feng Shaohui, and Zhao Yi all stopped what they were doing and quickly gathered over here.

The soldiers being counted on the threshing floor and the militiamen resting nearby all looked over.

Zhou Jindong didn't rush to accept it.

He first addressed the people who had gathered around him, saying, "Continue training. Wang Yuan, Zhang Fang, Ren Wuliu, Zhao Laosi, you guys come over here. Old Liu, tell the villagers to go about their business."

The crowd then started moving again, but they moved more quietly, their eyes constantly glancing in this direction.

Zhou Jindong then took the bamboo tube handed to him by Xiao Li.

The wax seal was intact, and there was a military-specific mark on the opening.

He used the dagger he carried to pry off the wax seal, unscrewed the cap, and pulled out a roll of extremely thin paper, which he then unfolded.

The paper was small, with a few lines of small characters written on it in a very fine fountain pen. The handwriting was somewhat messy, and it was clear that it was written in a hurry.

Zhou Jindong lowered his head and quickly read through the text, word by word.

Wang Yuan and the others had already surrounded him, not daring to get too close, just craning their necks, their expressions tense.

Xiao Li took the water ladle handed to him by the soldier next to him, gulped down several mouthfuls, wiped his mouth, and stared at Zhou Jindong's face.

Zhou Jindong read it very slowly.

After reading it once, he read it again from the beginning.

Then he looked up and handed the thin piece of paper to Wang Yuan.

Wang Yuan took it, and Zhang Fang and Ren Wuliu immediately leaned over.

There wasn't much content on the paper.

The gist is: During the Japanese army's "Iron Wall Encirclement" mopping-up operation in northwestern Shanxi last month, a major traitor emerged within the Ningwu County Anti-Japanese Government.

This person knew the list of key leaders of the Ningwu County Party Committee, the County Brigade, and several district squads, their activity patterns, and some secret contact points.

During the most brutal phase of the sweep, this person leaked crucial information to the Japanese intelligence agency, resulting in the destruction of two secret communication stations under the Ningwu County Committee, the arrest and sacrifice of seven underground couriers, and a hidden transfer point for wounded soldiers being raided by the Japanese army, causing the deaths of many seriously wounded soldiers and medical personnel.

After the mopping-up operation ended, the Japanese army withdrew. Fearing exposure, the traitor retreated with the Japanese army to their stronghold in Shuoxian County to hide.

Preliminary investigations by inside sources have revealed that this person is currently using the alias "Liu Shunfa" and is hiding in the backyard of the "Fuyuan" general store on West Street in Shuoxian County, under the covert protection of plainclothes Japanese soldiers and members of the puppet police station.

After deliberation, the military region leaders decided that the Ningwu County Brigade would be responsible for carrying out this anti-traitor mission. They inquired whether Zhou Jindong and his subordinates were confident and willing to infiltrate Shuoxian County and eliminate the traitor.

The secret order concluded by emphasizing that if the traitor is not eliminated, the underground organization in Ningwu and even the entire Shanxi-Northwest region will always be exposed to a huge threat, and must be eliminated as soon as possible and thoroughly.

Wang Yuan's hands trembled slightly as he read it.

Zhang Fang gritted his teeth.

Ren Wuliu's eyes turned red, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

Old Zhao Si, who couldn't read, stood nearby, wringing his hands anxiously, "What's written? What's going on?"

Zhou Jindong did not answer Zhao Laosi.

He looked at Wang Yuan, his tone calm: "What do you think?"

Wang Yuan swallowed hard, forcing himself to look away from the words.

He raised his head and looked at Zhou Jindong: "Dongzi, this is a scoundrel from our own Ningwu, harming our own comrades and fellow villagers. This grudge must be avenged. This traitor must be eliminated. No question about it."

"Shuoxian is not our territory." Zhou Jindong's voice was not loud, but it was enough for the people surrounding him to hear clearly. "The Japanese just suffered a great loss, losing so many supplies. They must be on high alert in Shuoxian. Going in, finding them, taking them out, and then withdrawing won't be easy."

"No matter how hard it is, we have to do it," Ren Wuliu said hastily, his voice choked with emotion. "Seven couriers... and wounded... all killed by that bastard. Captain, you have to give me this mission. I'll take the assault platoon, sneak into Shuoxian, find that bastard, and stab him to death!"

"An assault platoon?" Zhou Jindong glanced at Ren Wuliu. "Twenty-odd men, fully armed, how are they going to sneak into the city? How are they going to hide once they're inside? How are they going to be found? And once they're found, how are they going to act right under the noses of the Japanese? And how are they going to escape unscathed after they've done it? Wuliu, this isn't an ambush like the one at Black Wind Gully."

Ren Wuliu was stumped by the question. He opened his mouth, his face turning bright red.

Zhang Fang was a more composed man. After thinking for a moment, he said, "Captain, Political Commissar, this matter cannot be rushed. We need to plan carefully. I've been to Shuoxian twice. The city walls are high, with four gates, and the Japanese and their puppet troops guard them tightly."

The city's streets and alleys are a maze, with Japanese military police, puppet police stations, and plainclothes officers patrolling back and forth. Our large force definitely can't get in; the fewer people, the better.

"Yes." Zhou Jindong nodded. He took the paper back from Xiao Li, rolled it up again, and stuffed it back into the bamboo tube. "We can't have too many people. Too many targets will easily expose us. And we have to be quick, we can't drag it out. If we drag it out too long, the Japanese might move him or strengthen his protection."

He paused, his gaze sweeping across the faces of Wang Yuan, Zhang Fang, Ren Wuliu, and Zhao Laosi. "I'll go."

"What?" Wang Yuan was stunned.

"I said, I'll go." Zhou Jindong repeated, his tone calm and even, as if he were talking about something very ordinary. "Wang Quan is with me. Just the two of us."

"Captain!" Zhang Fang exclaimed anxiously, "This won't do! You're the backbone of the battalion, how can you take this risk yourself? If anyone should go, it should be us! At least take a few more people!"

"Having more people is useless." Zhou Jindong waved his hand to interrupt him. "Shuoxian is enemy-occupied territory, not our base. With too many people, there will be too many eyes and ears. If one link goes wrong, we will all be wiped out."

Two people make for a smaller, easier-to-disguise target, and also more convenient for operations. I'm a decent shot, and Wang Quan is quick-witted and knows the terrain well; our teamwork will be good. Most importantly, this order is for the Ningwu County brigade, and as the brigade commander, I have to go.

"But..." Ren Wuliu wanted to say something more.

"No buts." Zhou Jindong's voice turned serious. "This is an order. During my absence, Comrade Wang Yuan will be temporarily in charge of all affairs of the brigade. Brother Zhang Fang will assist him, making sure the training is carried out effectively and without any slackening."

Zhao Laosi led his men to move the sentry posts around Heifenggou five li further out to strengthen vigilance.

I kept a close watch on the small roads leading to Shuoxian, and I was required to report any unusual activity immediately.

"Brother Yuan, you're also responsible for maintaining contact with the local comrades. If there's any news from your contacts, send someone to the rendezvous point outside Shuoxian County immediately."

He handed the bamboo tube to Wang Yuan: "Keep this safe. Get ready, we're leaving tonight."

The order was given decisively, leaving no room for negotiation.

Wang Yuan and the others exchanged glances, all seeing the worry in each other's eyes, but no one dared to object.

After this period of close contact, they all know that Zhou Jindong rarely changes his mind once he has made a decision.

Zhou Jindong didn't say anything more, turned around and walked towards the makeshift command post set up next to the threshing ground, which was a shed made of wood and thatch.

Wang Quan greeted everyone, took a deep breath, and quickly followed.

Once inside the shed, Zhou Jindong dragged a small rattan box out from under an ammunition box in the corner.

When you open it, there's nothing valuable inside, just a few pieces of ordinary people's clothes that are neither new nor old: a cotton-padded jacket with patches, a tattered single-layer jacket, and two felt hats whose color is indistinguishable.

He picked out a drab, gray cotton-padded jacket with shiny cuffs and a pair of black cloth trousers, and tossed them to Wang Quan.

"Put it on."

Wang Quan took the clothes, quickly took off the captured Japanese yellow woolen overcoat, and put on a tattered cotton-padded jacket.

The clothes smelled musty and sweaty, and they were loose and baggy when worn.

Zhou Jindong changed his clothes, messed up his short hair, and smeared some soot on his face.

"What about weapons?" Wang Quan asked while buttoning his shirt. "I definitely can't bring a Mauser pistol; it's too conspicuous."

"Bring a knife, a short one, the kind you can hide in your pocket," Zhou Jindong said, pulling out two sheathed daggers from the bottom of the wicker box.

The dagger was old, the blade was polished to a gleaming shine, and the handle was wrapped in tattered cloth.

He tucked one of the bundles behind his back, covered it with his clothes, and handed the other to Wang Quan.

"Bring a gun too. If we can take care of it from a distance, we should definitely do so."

He walked to the corner of the wall, where several Type 38 rifles stood.

He picked up one, carefully inspected the chamber and receiver, then picked up the tools beside him and began to disassemble it.

He moved quickly but steadily, first removing the bolt and receiver cover, then the screws connecting the barrel and handguard.

Finally, he disassembled the entire rifle into several major parts: the barrel, bolt, stock, and handguard.

He found a piece of slightly worn gray coarse cloth and carefully wrapped the disassembled gun parts, especially the barrel and receiver, tightly binding them with strips of cloth to prevent them from making noise when they collided.

"This is..." Wang Quan looked at it.