Everything was ready; all that remained was to await two o'clock!
Even the heavens seemed cooperative. The day was bright with sunshine and the air was dry, as if eager to ensure Fang Wenjian burned the Devils' grain down to ash.
Zhu Shiqing scrutinized the entrance to Lijiatun. Just as the scouts had reported, it was shaped like a gourd, squeezed between two two-story tiled brick houses, opening up only once inside. The dwellings flanking both sides were neatly aligned and solidly built; unless heavy weapons were brought in to blast through the barriers, this was the only way into the village.
The puppet troops had already posted sentries at the entrance, and along the short stretch leading to the intersection with Jinnan Highway, they had set up a rudimentary roadblock.
In administrative practice, the puppet forces mirrored their Japanese masters: occupying major cities and county seats to concentrate superior force in fortified strongpoints, while relying on mopping-up raids against the towns and villages scattered across their defense zones.
This was a major reason why behind-the-lines battlefields could exist after the outbreak of the war.
On either side of the entrance, the puppet soldiers had positioned two light machine guns each—a remarkably generous allocation. But the mouth was narrow to begin with, and what looked like an airtight curtain of fire actually had a fairly limited firing arc.
Taking the entrance would not be hard; holding it to cover the demolition squad's entry into the village would be far more difficult. Yet Regiment Sun had come prepared, second to none in both numbers and battle readiness. Zhu Shiqing felt ninety percent certain of victory.
Afternoon was a drowsy hour. Under the warm sunlight, the puppet troops in Zhangwan were already half-asleep. From the surrounding crop fields came the occasional cry of birds, and a gentle breeze drifted through the alleys of the settlement, drawing one yawn after another.
Crack!
Da-da-da!
Xia Qidong had long since led the spearhead company to the outskirts of Zhangwan, while the other two companies swept in from both flanks. As two o'clock arrived, Xia Qidong took the lead himself, firing from the brush to shoot down a puppet officer guarding the road into the village.
Almost at the same moment, gunfire broke out on all sides. Back at battalion headquarters, the puppet commander was just settling in for an afternoon nap when he was jolted awake by the rumbling blasts from an uncertain direction.
Headquarters sat not far from the entrance, and the sharp, piercing shots set his heart pounding in terror.
"Commander! It's... it's bad!"
Before the puppet battalion commander could send someone to check, his adjutant came sprinting back from the entrance, screaming in panic, "The Northwest Army... the Northwest Army is attacking!"
The battalion commander flared with anger. Seeing his adjutant's cap spun almost halfway around and his face splattered with soot and dirt, looking in utter disarray—and with his afternoon nap ruined—he planted his hands on his hips and barked, "What's there to be afraid of if the Northwest Army is here! I have an entire battalion dug in! Unless they bring a whole regiment, they'll never fight their way into Zhangwan! Look at what a disgrace you are—get back to the front and take command!"
Yet the puppet commander had clearly overestimated his men's fighting capability. In a single charge, the outer firing positions set up around Zhangwan were wiped out, and the surviving puppet troops pulled back behind the makeshift entrenchments at the entrance to make a desperate stand.
Chaos engulfed the interior of the village. With gunfire erupting from three directions, the two resting companies had barely put on their clothes and seized their rifles; even those fully geared could not find their direct superiors and had no idea which way to move.
Having cursed out his adjutant, the puppet commander cooled off slightly and began to use his head. He muttered to himself, "Damn it, I'm dozens of li away from the Northwest Army's defense zone. Those bastards came straight for me!"
The sound of rifles and artillery outside drew closer, and the booming crash of grenades seemed to echo from behind him as well. He realized at once: they were surrounded!
The swaggering puppet commander was now sweating cold. All that talk about an entire regiment had been pure bravado. Before the telephone lines could be cut, he hurried over to crank the line to the nearest strongpoint—Lijiatun.
After fighting for nearly twenty minutes, Xia Qidong saw that all three companies were advancing smoothly. The perimeter around Zhangwan was almost completely under their control. At this rate, it hardly looked like a feint—it was turning straight into an annihilation. But to adhere to the broader plan, Xia Qidong ordered his men to slow the attack.
While Zhangwan was ablaze with action, the outskirts of Lijiatun were still too far away to hear the dense fighting several li off. By the clock, though, the battle had to be underway.
"Regimental Commander, look, they're coming out!"
Someone called out in a low voice. Sure enough, an organized force was marching out of Lijiatun's entrance. Sun Yi signaled his men not to shoot and let the puppet troops pass. Under more than a hundred watching eyes, the column of puppet reinforcements moved away from the entrance until the last man was gone.
"Looks like less than a battalion," Fang Wenjian said after peering closely.
"A reinforced company, most likely," Zhu Shiqing said, watching to ensure no more reinforcements followed. "According to the intelligence, that leaves about a battalion in the village. That's fine—the brothers holding the ambush won't face too much pressure."
"Staff Officer Zhu, when do we attack?" Sun Yi came over, his Broomhandle Mauser already gripped in his hand, impatience written plain on his face.
"Regimental Commander, we launch the general assault in ten minutes. We have to wipe out the puppet troops at the entrance quickly and seize their firing points. Once the shooting starts, puppet garrisons all across Lijiatun will swarm over. We must keep the area around the entrance firmly in our grip, or it will be easy for my brothers to get in and hard for them to get out."
Zhu Shiqing gestured toward the village entrance, pointedly singling out the four machine guns.
Sun Yi understood, said, "Don't worry," and went back to direct the troops.
Behind Fang Wenjian, each of the ten men in the demolition squad had four grenades tucked into his waist. They also carried improvised incendiary bottles—glass bottles filled with kerosene and detergent, fitted with a long external fuse. When used, the fuse had to be lit by hand before the bottle was hurled and shattered, setting off a blaze and explosion.
Zhu Shiqing and Fang Wenjian had learned to make these incendiary bottles from Zhang Zhijie of the Central Training Corps. They were said to have first appeared on the battlefields of the Great War, though not widely, and as yet had no proper name.
Not until the Winter War of 1939, when Finland deployed them on a large scale as an incendiary weapon to check the Soviet armored advance, would they come to be known as Molotov cocktails.
Minute by minute, time slipped away. Sun Yi checked his pocket watch and saw the hour had arrived. Because the frontage was too narrow to deploy an entire battalion, he permitted Zhu Shiqing to lead an advance company in the opening assault.
Crack!
A sharp gunshot split the sky over Lijiatun. Soldiers carrying red-tasseled broadswords across their backs hunched low and drove forward.
The puppet troops stationed on the highway were few and had nowhere to take cover; they were cut down first.
Sensing disaster, the puppet soldiers at the entrance immediately brought their machine guns to bear to lay down suppressive fire on the outer perimeter. Four tongues of flame whipped across the ground, and the air filled with the stench of gunsmoke.
Bullets churned the rough road into flying dust, and across all of Lijiatun, gunfire rose in a furious roar.
"Spread out! Spread out!"
Zhu Shiqing stayed low as he moved forward with the line. Under the crossfire, the soldiers in the lead fell one after another, but those behind surged right on their heels.
"Spread out! Clear the way with grenades!" Zhu Shiqing shouted hoarsely again. The formation fanned out, and the soldiers pulled their grenades and flung them toward the entrance, throwing up showers of earth and dust. Gauging the distance, Zhu Shiqing scooped up a fallen rifle, brought it to his shoulder, and aimed straight at the gunner's head.
Crack!
One down!
Under cover of the smoke and dust, the vanguard charged past the firing arcs of the four machine guns and reached the outer walls of the houses flanking the village entrance.
Chapter 37