Stationed inside Sanyimiao at this moment was the Imura Battalion of the Japanese 20th Division's 77th Regiment.
The 77th Regiment was a pure infantry regiment. Compared to the armored regiment assaulting Yongdingmen, the difference in how they were treated was like night and day—favored child versus stepchild. Yet it was this very stepchild of a regiment that had been the first to set foot into Beiping, greatly bolstering the spirits of officers and men alike, as if venting years of pent-up resentment.
Because the main Japanese force was still engaged along the line from Nanyuan to Fengtai encircling and annihilating Zhao Dengyu's 132nd Division and the remnants of several brigades under Tong Linge, the troops actually deployed to assault the urban quarters of Beiping were few.
Therefore, the regiment's orders to the Imura Battalion were to hold Zuo'anmen, seize Sanyimiao, and wait until dawn to launch another assault on Yongdingmen in coordination with the aviation regiment and the armored regiment.
On the China front, whether high-ranking Japanese commanders or frontline officers, the main reason they favored deep penetration, division, and encirclement was their burning desire to annihilate the effective strength of the Chinese forces.
Just how vast China was, the Japanese Imperial General Headquarters understood well: capturing an isolated city or patch of ground was far less valuable than completely wiping out an entire division or brigade. Unfortunately, the early fanatical young Japanese officers had yet to grasp this reality.
The longing for this imperial city of Beiping, accumulated since the Ming dynasty, reached near fever pitch at this moment.
After the Imura Battalion broke into Beiping, Major Imura ordered a squad to occupy Sanyimiao and set up a command post, a company to secure the gateway entrance, and the rest of his troops to continue sweeping forward. Perhaps the historical precedent of a mere 128 Japanese soldiers taking Chengde had given him such confidence.
If 128 Japanese soldiers could take an entire province, shouldn't his battalion of a thousand men have more than enough power to take at least the Outer City, if not all of Beiping?
Just as he brandished his sword and led his men north, a burst of heavy gunfire erupted from Sanyimiao!
The 29th Army outpost established here had only recently been cleared out, and the Japanese orderlies setting up the command post never anticipated the Chinese troops would arrive so quickly. They were inside the main hall laying out operational maps, stringing telephone lines, and hanging Japanese banners; when they glanced outside, the sentries at the courtyard gate had just been shot dead, collapsing to the ground.
"Bakayaro!"
The Japanese adjutant in command quickly realized they were surrounded. With no time to curse Major Imura's idiotic decision, he barked orders for the orderlies around him to prepare to fight back. They kicked over the newly arranged long table, shoving it straight against the doorway.
Behind the walls of Sanyimiao, the footsteps of Chinese soldiers approached as expected. Lowering his head, the Japanese adjutant gripped his Type 14 Nambu pistol—colloquially known as the "chicken leg" or "turtle shell"—with both hands, his whole body tense as he aimed at the temple doors outside.
The gunfire on all sides gradually died down. Though the adjutant said nothing, in his heart he was not yet eager to lay down his life for the Emperor. He hoped Major Imura would hear the shooting and rush back to pull him out of the fire.
Yet the very next second, the temple doors were kicked open, and before his eyes, swarms of Chinese soldiers breached the hall.
"Fire! Fire!" the adjutant shrieked like a madman, but the few pistols and rifles they had posed little threat to Fang Wenjian and the men kicking in the door. Instead, a whole magazine from a Czech light machine gun tore into them, riddling the Japanese soldiers and the map tacked to the table in a bloody flurry of shredded paper and flesh.
Standing on the gentle slope to the left of Sanyimiao, Zhu Shiqing raised his binoculars and peered farther north. Through the lenses, the torches and flares carried by the Japanese were clearly visible, but he could not yet determine their exact numbers. Judging by the layout at Sanyimiao, however, there had to be at least a company.
Meanwhile, at the gate opening of Zuo'anmen, the garrisoned Japanese company, seeing Sanyimiao ambushed by Chinese forces, immediately organized a counterattack.
In the pitch-black night, compounded by differences in terrain, Zhu Shiqing could not tell how many there were—only that they were pushing toward Sanyimiao in a steady stream. He immediately ordered Fang Wenjian to take his men and hold the gentle slope southwest of the temple, blocking the Japanese surging up from Zuo'anmen.
He himself remained on the terrace northwest of the temple, keeping his eyes glued to the movements of the Japanese force advancing north.
On the southwestern slope, Fang Wenjian looked out from the front line at the dense swarm rushing straight toward them, accompanied by the hysterical blare of a Japanese bugle charge not far away.
"Brother Fang, the Japs are coming!" Liang Xiyun cried in alarm, pointing at the swaying silhouettes up ahead and the torchlight at the foot of the Japanese lines.
"Damn it all, I'm not blind!" Fang Wenjian cursed, shoving Liang Xiyun back. "Tell the boys to find cover! The Japanese are attacking blind in the dark—we have the advantage! Don't just fire wild, damn it! Aim straight at that intersection! When you hear the Japs scream, you'll know you hit something!"
Fighting in the dark, there was hardly any real aiming to speak of. As long as they laid down a solid fire suppression, the Japanese would never get through that choke point!
"Fire!"
At Fang Wenjian's command, the rifles and pistols deployed on both flanks opened fire simultaneously. Muzzle flashes flickered in the night like scattered sparks. The Japanese platoon commander leading the charge felt as though the entire hillside was crawling with Chinese troops; the dense fire flickered like ghostly flames, pinning the Japanese down so they could not lift their heads.
Hand grenades became lethal weapons in close-quarters night combat. With their rigorous military training, the Japanese could time the fuses of their melon grenades with precision, making them land at their enemy's feet with no time to react.
Unable to break through head-on, the vanguard Japanese soldiers stepped back, pulled out grenades, yanked the safety pins, struck them against their steel helmets, and hurled them toward the muzzle flashes!
Several loud blasts roared. In the brief illumination of the explosions, the fighting silhouettes of Chinese and Japanese soldiers flickered into view.
An explosion went off not far to Liang Xiyun's right. Several comrades who had been talking just moments before seemed to have been blown off the slope. In the dark, he could not see who had fallen, nor how many were left on his right. He simply raised his rifle and, unable to pick out distinct targets, fired straight toward the spot Fang Wenjian had indicated.
Fire a round, work the bolt, fire another!
Most of the soldiers of the Military Training Corps repeated this mechanical motion. Unlike cunning veterans, these student soldiers rarely played petty tricks on the battlefield. Unafraid of sacrifice, whatever orders their officers gave, they carried out to the letter.
Originally stationed at Yongdingmen, they gave no thought to whether this mission to reinforce Zuo'anmen might cost them their precious lives. They only knew that Beiping's survival depended on them standing firm.
When the distinct whiz of bullets whipped past his ears, Liang Xiyun realized the Japanese were aiming in his direction—the next round might very well punch through his forehead! In response, he would instinctively shift positions, slipping through the gaps between his comrades or ducking his head behind a waist-high boulder to take cover, waiting about ten seconds before poking his head out again.
"Don't conserve ammo! Damn it, we fight the devils to the end tonight!"
Not far to the left, Fang Wenjian remained behind the line, shouting combat tips and battlefield essentials to this pack of student soldiers. Meanwhile, on the northeast side of Sanyimiao, Zhu Shiqing kept his eyes fixed on the Japanese troops advancing north; roughly ten minutes had passed since the battle began.
That enemy force was already showing unmistakable signs of turning back. Without a doubt, this was the main Japanese force. Zhu Shiqing held his breath and concentrated, looking up at the sky. Along the horizon, there was neither bright moon nor stars.
If Tan Hai and Xiang Chengyu failed to reach their attack positions in time, the Japanese could very well swallow up the company he had on hand before continuing their advance.
The battle to the southwest of the temple was far from over. The situation on the battlefield was changing in an instant; he had no choice but to take a gamble.
Chapter 80