Downpour

Dawn had broken faintly, yet the daylight never truly arrived. On the morning of July 8, torrential rain poured from the heavens. "Regimental Commander, the telephone line is connected!" A young soldier came stumbling through the downpour, carrying a small black box on his back that housed a field telephone. In the dead of night, Sun Yi had ordered him to head toward Wanping in the dark to repair the severed line. The signalman was drenched to the skin, his youthful voice sounding thin beneath the roar of the rain. He unslung the box, set it down in front of him, lifted out the black telephone, and handed it to Sun Yi, who was sheltering beneath the station platform. "Good work. That couldn't have been an easy trip," Sun Yi said, clapping the young soldier firmly on the shoulder. "Go find somewhere dry to rest. Once the fighting starts, I'll still be counting on you." "Yes, Regimental Commander!" For some reason, the rain only fell harder, churning up a thick mist. But to guard against a Japanese counterattack, the entire regiment was working in the downpour, racing to dig and reinforce their trenches. Sun Yi's regiment centered its defenses on Fengtai Station, establishing two defensive trenches on the north and south flanks. Using cargo crates and abandoned railcars as cover, they stacked sandbags to build a defense line facing northwest, while utilizing the elevation drop between the rail tracks and ground level to form a second defense line facing due north. Under Zhu Shiqing's direction, beyond crate barriers and similar cover, the first line also required half-meter-deep crouching foxholes to house machine gun firing positions, encircled by sandbags to maximize protection for their firepower. "This still won't work." Zhu Shiqing steadied his dripping military cap, stooping as he inspected the frontline positions. Under the relentless deluge, the freshly dug foxholes had turned to soggy mud, collapsing underfoot. "Digging like this, we're just digging our own graves..." Glancing around, Zhu Shiqing ordered the men to tear apart the wooden plank beds from the Japanese tents to shore up the trenches. Several soldiers moved in and out of the tents, crouched low. Suddenly a shout went up. Zhu Shiqing hurried over to check, pulling aside the tent flap. A soldier had tripped over something and fallen; a wooden crate sat on the ground. "See what that is," Zhu Shiqing said, gesturing at the box. "Might be grenades or something." Catching his meaning, several soldiers drew their bayonets and pried the crate open. With a sharp crack, the lid gave way, but what lay inside was not the grenades Zhu Shiqing had hoped for, but six short-handled entrenching shovels. Zhu Shiqing glanced back at the soldiers of Sun's regiment digging positions with broadswords, then shook his head helplessly. "Whatever. It's still good stuff." Turning back to the soldiers, he said, "Carry them back and pass them around to the boys. Once that's done, look around again and see what else you can dig up." Zhu Shiqing didn't realize his actions were already beginning to resemble the style of a certain northern party, but it had to be said: the Japanese individual gear was genuinely handy! After this rummaging, they scavenged a substantial haul of entrenching shovels and rifles, and even managed to secure two Type 11 light machine guns. Having wrapped up his work at the front, Zhu Shiqing dragged his weary body back to the station, just in time to hear Sun Yi shouting a string of "Yes, yes, understood!" Drawing closer, he saw Sun Yi reclining against a half-damp sandbag, cradling the receiver against his chest like an infatuated lover pouring his heart out to his sweetheart. The grin on his face couldn't be concealed in the slightest, split wide ear to ear, his free hand waving as he spoke. "Don't worry, Division Commander! I, Sun Yi, won't let you down!" As he said that last line, Sun Yi straightened up sharply and slammed the receiver down with great solemnity. Only then did Zhu Shiqing quietly step forward and find a dry patch to sit. Looking at the reconnected telephone line, he could roughly guess the situation, but asked anyway, "Is everything alright on the division commander's end?" "Those Japanese sons of bitches planned this long in advance." Sun Yi had a habit of answering questions with non sequiturs. "So, how is the division commander?" Zhu Shiqing pressed. "Nothing to worry about. The Japanese cut communications last night. The division commander said they threw no less than a battalion against Wanping's east gate. They fought for half the night without taking it, but under cover of darkness, the devils launched a surprise attack on the garrison battalion at Huilongmiao." As Sun Yi answered, he habitually fished out a half-empty pack of cigarettes and a matchbox from his breast pocket. Only when he held them did he realize they were completely soaked. He cursed, "Damn it all, my dry tobacco turned into water-pipe tobacco—how the hell am I supposed to smoke this?!" "Is that what the locals call Longwangmiao?" Zhu Shiqing pulled an equally damp pocket map from inside his tunic. Though the ink had smudged slightly, it was still mostly legible. "If Longwangmiao has fallen, Wanping is still in dire peril." "That's why the division commander ordered our regiment to hold Fengtai and secure Wanping's southeastern transit route," Sun Yi replied, but then broke into a grin and chuckled. "What's more, I told him about us wiping out that Japanese company last night. Do you know how he praised me...?" "How did he praise you?" Zhu Shiqing wasn't actually interested. "He said in the whole 37th Division, our regiment is the only one with real backbone!" Sun Yi's voice rose a few notches, then dropped to a whisper, as though sharing a grand secret. "The division commander said that once this fight is over, he'll give our regiment a whole battalion of fresh recruits!" "That'd be great," Zhu Shiqing replied. "We caught the devils off guard last night, but I just checked the front line—our casualties aren't light either." "Report! Report, Regimental Commander, the devils are coming!" Their conversation was cut short by a sentry's urgent report. At that exact moment, sentries posted in other directions came rushing in one after another. Right then, amid the torrential rain and blinding mist, Japanese troops were charging in from nearly every direction. "How many?" Sun Yi stepped out from the station and moved forward a few paces alongside Zhu Shiqing, raising his binoculars to peer due north. Sure enough, the Japanese were advancing. The sentry shook his head and answered, "A massive swarm, packed tightly together. In this heavy downpour, we can't see how many are behind them." "No matter. Order every battalion into position." Sun Yi lowered his binoculars, wiped the water from his face, and headed directly for the front line. Tasked with defending the front line was the 3rd Battalion, their strongest combat unit. Tan Hai and Fang Wenjian were already on the line directing operations. According to Zhu Shiqing's pre-battle deployment, three Czech light machine guns were arranged in a triangular layout, with six semi-circular sandbag emplacements prepared so the guns could shift positions. The greatest advantage of this triangular machine gun arrangement was its ability to create a dense, interlocking crossfire. Instead of sweeping fire from side to side, each gunner only needed to fire controlled bursts into their assigned sector, laying down devastating fire against the attackers. At the same time, this layout ensured a safe angle for flank and reverse fire, and proper spacing effectively shielded the gun positions from enemy counter-battery fire. Through the drifting mist, ferocious Japanese faces came into view of the 3rd Battalion's troops. Seeing the ground littered with the corpses of his fallen men, Watanabe's fury reached a boiling point. Seeing the Chinese forces dug in behind completed fortifications and waiting in battle readiness, he swore to annihilate these Chinamen down to the last man. The morning downpour made the previous night's rain pale in comparison. Today, the sky seemed torn wide open, turning North China—normally an arid region—into a sprawling wetland. This also meant that the Watanabe Battalion's assault could not rely heavily on artillery support. Yet facing this ill-equipped band of Chinese local troops, Watanabe remained supremely confident he could crush them in a single blow. Beneath the Rising Sun flag, his field officer's sword slid slowly from its scabbard, and a shrill cry of "Kōgeki!" tore through the drumming rain!