Telegram to the Nation!

Eleven hours had passed since the Japanese military began shelling Wanping in the early hours of the morning. Word of the fighting in Beiping and Tianjin spread through the army, newspapers, foreign correspondents stationed in China, and the British and French concessions. The Japanese attacking Pingjin once more had become the focus of morning conversation across the country. Headlines like "Japan Seeks Another September 18th Incident" and "The Recurrence of the Liutiaohu Tragedy" rushed onto the covers of mainstream magazines. In an instant, the whole nation was shaken. Just as shaken was Song Zheyuan, back at his ancestral home in Shandong. As the leader of the 29th Army and a man once hailed as an anti-Japanese hero by the public, Song Zheyuan was surprisingly sitting idly at home as the great battle erupted, acting as if none of it concerned him. Song Zheyuan's residence, Shandong. Clutching a telegram regarding the fighting in North China, Song Zheyuan sat dazed in a chair along the right side of the main hall. Melancholy and hesitation remained tangled in the veteran general's heart. In the end, he decided to kick this scalding ball over to Chiang Kai-shek. "Adjutant Li," Song Zheyuan called softly. "Draft a telegram for me." "At your command, Commander." Adjutant Li had been standing by a pillar at the front of the hall. Hearing the summons, he hurried over and pulled a small notebook from his pocket. "To the Military Affairs Commission in Nanjing and for Generalissimo Chiang's attention: Respectfully submitted to all senior commanders. Early this morning, the Japanese China Garrison Army, leading two infantry regiments, launched an offensive along the Beiping–Lugou Bridge City (Wanping)–Fengtai line. The enemy is well-prepared, and their bombardment is intense. All officers and men of the 29th Army are locked in bitter combat. In legitimate self-defense, our forces are doing their utmost to engage the enemy and prevent the situation from escalating. We request instructions on how to proceed." Song Zheyuan finished dictating the telegram with knitted brows. Even in this message, he displayed the sharp political instincts of a regional warlord. Failing to resist Japan was a blame no one wanted to shoulder. Before the outbreak of total resistance, many warlords inclined toward appeasement preferred to dump that burden onto the Generalissimo. If Nanjing replied with orders for the 29th Army to actively negotiate and downplay the crisis, Song Zheyuan could proceed with Japanese diplomatic talks with a free hand. After all, those negotiations were already underway before his departure. Clearly, far from the front line, Song Zheyuan failed to grasp just how savage the Japanese artillery fire was. The young soldiers of the 29th Army were locked in bloody hand-to-hand combat with the Japanese, their blood mingling with the rain and soaking deep into the soil of North China. Soon, a reply arrived from Chiang Kai-shek on Mount Lu. "Commander, a telegram from the Generalissimo," Adjutant Li said, carrying it forward with both hands. "Read it." Adjutant Li stood ramrod straight, holding the paper formally before him, and read each word with firm emphasis: "Hold Wanping firmly without retreating. Ensure the safety of the Pinghan line. Carry out total mobilization in preparation for an escalation. Meanwhile, Nanjing stands ready to provide reinforcements at any time." As the last word faded, Song Zheyuan involuntarily rose from his chair. Not a trace of joy crossed his face; instead, he clasped his hands behind his back and began pacing restlessly across the hall. Sensing the delicate atmosphere, Adjutant Li set the telegram gently on the table and asked cautiously, "What is it, Commander? Are you displeased with the Generalissimo's directive?" "It's not that I'm displeased—I simply don't believe it," Song Zheyuan sighed. "You don't understand. Our Generalissimo is a master of political maneuvering and rarely acts in conventional ways. In the past, whenever we petitioned to fight Japan, he always found reasons to shirk. Today his reply is so resolute that I fear there's a trap in it." "Then what about Pingjin?" Song Zheyuan waved a hand. "Telegraph Qin Dechun. Tell him to assess the situation. If necessary, he may order Zhao Dengyu's 132nd Division to cross the Yongding River eastwards and support the defense of Beiping." Adjutant Li nodded thoughtfully, then asked, "And regarding Nanjing?" "Reply that the 29th Army is determined to resist the enemy to the death, to not fail Generalissimo Chiang's great trust, and to not disappoint the expectations of the nation's people. Should the situation grow critical, we will report to the central government promptly." Song Zheyuan sank back into his chair, picked up the glass on the table with his right hand, and drained the water in one gulp. Nanjing. Because Chiang Kai-shek was atop Mount Lu, the military affairs of the Nationalist government were temporarily being handled by He Yingqin, Minister of Military Administration and Chief of the General Staff. Following the battle at Lijiatun in mid-June, Ming Quan had already begun studying the situation in Pingjin. He was not surprised by this latest incident; half a month earlier, to prepare for potential turmoil in North China, the Military Affairs Commission had already concentrated active forces along the Pinghan Railway. In Ming Quan's eyes, if the Japanese troops in the Pingjin area insisted on pushing forward and triggering a major war, the Nationalist forces' current deployments might even allow them to win a modest victory. After all, on paper, the core combat strength of the Japanese amounted to only one brigade of the Kwantung Army, plus fewer than ten thousand troops of the China Garrison Army. As long as four divisions of the Central Army could enter Pingjin, holding the gateway to North China ought to pose little problem, even without pushing the Japanese back. Even if the fighting went poorly, they would not collapse immediately; by holding Beiping and Tianjin, they could still muster troops to provide relief. Under these circumstances, Chiang Kai-shek already had a premonition that total resistance was imminent. Standing amidst the swirling clouds and mists of Mount Lu, looking down upon the grandeur and wonder of this land, he finally resolved that resistance was inevitable. That same morning, a telegram from Mount Lu was broadcast to the entire nation! Calling upon the entire populace to resist together, Chiang gathered luminaries from all walks of life on Mount Lu to deliberate on the fate of the nation. On that day, the warlords who had once fought each other for power and territory across China all replied in "enthusiastic support." Less than a week later, the Nationalist government established a wartime structure with Chiang Kai-shek as Generalissimo. Zhu Shiqing's uncle's former superior, Cheng Qian, was appointed Chief of the General Staff, and Bai Chongxi as Deputy Chief of the General Staff. At this very moment, Chinese composer Mai Xin composed "The Sword March." Across the country, people began singing, "Let broadswords swing toward the devils' heads!" Before long, the song became the military anthem of the 29th Army. While the fervor for resistance reached unprecedented heights across the nation, the defending troops in the Pingjin area were suffering terribly. At Fengtai, past noon, the rain began to subside, and faint traces of sunlight peeked through the gray sky. The enemy's gunfire gradually died down. After half a day of fierce fighting, Sun's regiment had repulsed two Japanese charges, suffering over two hundred casualties—twenty critically wounded, and countless men with minor injuries. Soaked through by the rain, the makeshift trenches were now impassable; every step sank deep into heavy mud that caked against thighs and made movement an ordeal. Looking around, the men resembled clay dolls, faces coated with earth, noses smudged with dirt, feet sinking into mud. Sun Yi crouched beside Fengtai Station, absently chewing on an unlit, damp cigarette, muttering, "Damn little devils. Noon comes and you go back to eat, while my boys are still starving on empty bellies." The 3rd Battalion's original post at Fengtai had now been turned into a makeshift field hospital. With no doctor present, the soldiers had to bandage themselves using the meager supply of dressings. The severely wounded lay on cots, gritting their teeth and holding on. Those still able to move were collecting the bodies of fallen soldiers. Zhu Shiqing walked out from the stench of blood and stepped slowly up to Sun Yi. His eyes were lifeless, and his voice sounded as though it had been dragged from his throat: "Regimental Commander, Battalion Commander Xia... is gone." In the assault that had just concluded, Xia Qidong had been struck in the chest by a stray bullet. Blood gushed uncontrollably. After the charge ended, the medics did everything they could to staunch the bleeding, but Xia Qidong could not be saved, his life cut short at age thirty-two. Aside from him, another company commander had been killed in action, and two platoon leaders were wounded. Sun Yi clenched his jaw and closed his eyes. He gave a heavy nod. "I understand. How is Staff Officer Fang?" "A bullet grazed him. He went to the rear to get bandaged up." Zhu Shiqing sat down slowly, his legs giving way as he slumped against the edge of a wooden crate behind him. "Commander, if we keep fighting like this, the whole regiment will be wiped out here before sundown." "Zhu Shiqing, take some men and head to Wanping. Our regiment can't all perish here." Sun Yi suddenly turned his head, looking sidelong at Zhu Shiqing, and spoke word by word.