General Wenbai

The Central Military Academy Field Camp Office was an exceedingly mysterious agency. Even though Japanese intelligence had riddled the Nanjing-Shanghai region with leaks until it resembled a sieve, they had never been able to discern the true purpose of this body. Not only were the Japanese completely in the dark, but many generals within the Nationalist government had never heard of it either. General Zhang Zhizhong of the army was one of Chiang Kai-shek's most trusted military and political figures. In 1936, following the launch of the Nationalist government's Preparation Plan for reorganized divisions, strategic planning for an operation in the Songhu region quietly got underway. That same year, the scholar-general, fluent in Chinese, German, and Russian, was appointed supreme commander of the Nanjing-Shanghai Garrison District. Publicly, however, he held the post of Dean of the Central Military Academy. Consequently, the garrison headquarters was initially established in the East Building of the Central Military Academy in Nanjing. To adapt to the increasingly grim operational demands, headquarters first relocated to Lion Grove Garden in Suzhou, and later moved to Lingering Garden. Its cover designation was also changed from the "Senior Officers' Office" to the far more discreet "Field Camp Office." On August 6, escorted in a dedicated jeep, two young company-grade officers seasoned on the battlefields of Beiping and Tianjin arrived at the tranquil Suzhou garden. Before departing, Zhu Shiqing had tried once again to inquire about the mission Sun Beifeng was undertaking, but not a single whisper had leaked out. Left with no choice, he could only cherish every minute and second reunited with his uncle. When the day of departure came, they wished each other well and went their separate ways. Lingering Garden, together with the Humble Administrator's Garden, the Summer Palace, and the Mountain Resort in Chengde, was renowned as one of China's Four Great Classical Gardens. Shrouded among dense woods and babbling waters, the Ming dynasty Lingering Garden now housed the core cadres drawn from various military and political departments. Within its grounds stood craggy, towering rocks and engraved steles everywhere. How could any outsider arriving here ever imagine that such a fresh, elegant retreat had already become a military command post steeped in killing intent? Wufeng Hall in Lingering Garden was the hall Zhang Zhizhong used for convening military conferences. After an orderly guided Zhu Shiqing to settle his luggage in the northern quarters of the garden, he and Fang Wenjian went to report. "Staff Corps First Cohort trainee Zhu Shiqing reporting to General Zhang!" "Staff Corps First Cohort trainee Fang Wenjian reporting to General Zhang!" The two passed through several arched doorways and stepped straight into Wufeng Hall. A slightly damp, refreshing chill met them. Opening up before their eyes was a spacious hall. At the far end of their sight, a folding screen adorned with landscape paintings stood behind a table flanked by two chairs, while exquisitely crafted antique armchairs lined both sides of the hall in orderly rows. The nanmu pillars on either side were polished to an ebony sheen, and a rhyming couplet was carved into the beams overhead. Zhang Zhizhong sat in the central place before the hall. He had received word of their arrival in Suzhou early that morning, and now that they had finally met, he set aside the sheaf of drafts in his hands and waved them over, gesturing for them to approach. Zhu Shiqing took the cue and stepped forward. Seeing Zhang Zhizhong point toward a chair beside him, he heard the general say softly, "Sit and talk." Pulling out the chair, Zhu Shiqing sat down and looked up at General Zhang Zhizhong. Before him sat a scholarly and refined general, yet his brow radiated an unmistakable vigor. The round-rimmed spectacles perched on the bridge of his nose gave him the air of a Republican scholar; to Zhu Shiqing, he bore a strong resemblance to the gentleman who had taught him at his traditional private school in his youth. "I've been longing for you two day and night, and you're finally here." Zhang Zhizhong's face beamed with a warm smile as he looked at them for a long moment. "On behalf of the Nanjing-Shanghai Garrison Headquarters, I welcome you both." Before this, Zhu Shiqing had never imagined a conversation with a full general could feel so relaxed. The General Zhang Zhizhong before him was clearly an officer of immense emotional intelligence; to a remarkable degree, he carried no trace of bureaucratic arrogance. "We are grateful for your favor, sir. Shiqing will do his utmost, through fire and water." "I have no need for you to go through fire and water here. I only ask that you both devote your heart and soul to the great cause of resisting Japan," Zhang Zhizhong said earnestly. "What I lack right now are young officers who have fought the Japanese on the front lines. You could have been sitting in an office sipping tea, yet I summoned you here, and in the days ahead you may have to charge at the very front to strike the Japanese invaders. In truth, I owe the General Staff a favor for this." "Ever since joining the Staff Corps intensive training, Shiqing has sought only to serve our country with my life and fight the enemy to the death. I have never thought of idling in the rear, watching the invaders bare their fangs!" Zhu Shiqing declared with fervent conviction. Zhang Zhizhong nodded in satisfaction, then explained, "Since you have arrived, you must have some prior understanding. In this modest garden, all of us gathered from various departments are here for one single purpose. "To drive the Japanese into the Huangpu River. "Here, there is no distinction between high and low rank or post, no departmental rivalry—only sincere solidarity to overcome the hardest obstacles. Over the past period, your colleagues have secretly scouted the Songhu Line, the Suzhou-Fushan Line, and the Wuxi-Jiangyin Line, surveying terrain, drawing military maps, and formulating contingency plans. Moving forward, you will take part as well." "Yes, sir!" Zhang Zhizhong paused, lifted the white porcelain teacup beside him, took a sip, and continued, "Since the Lugou Bridge Incident, the Japanese Special Naval Landing Force stationed in Shanghai has grown restless, repeatedly provoking our Shanghai Peace Preservation Corps. The garrison headquarters has resolved to concentrate overwhelming forces and seize the initiative." *Seize the initiative?* After enduring the Liutiaohu Incident, the North China Incident, the Lugou Bridge Incident, and a string of endless conflicts, this was likely the first time Zhu Shiqing had ever heard a senior Nationalist commander abandon the rhetoric of "considering the bigger picture" rather than trying to compromise with the Japanese. The exchange with Zhang Zhizhong felt more like an academic dialogue bridging the military and political realms. Behind every word this scholarly general spoke lay unique insights into the Sino-Japanese conflict and profound contemplation regarding the nation's destiny. The conversation stretched from midday until dusk, leaving Zhu Shiqing utterly enlightened. It was only when a telegram arrived that the one-sided lecture was interrupted. "The Japanese are moving too..." Zhang Zhizhong frowned as he glanced at the telegram, then crushed it in his fist. He immediately ordered the communications officer before him, "Notify everyone at once. All sections must convene for a meeting immediately!" Being newcomers, Zhu Shiqing and Fang Wenjian did not take seats at the head tables on either side. Instead, each took a solid wood round stool and sat in the back row to the flank, in the same line as several clerical soldiers from the secretariat who were taking notes. It felt rather like drafting meeting minutes back in Jiangning County... Before night fell, the personnel from various sections Zhang Zhizhong had mentioned, who had been busy outside, filed into the room. A scene that impressed Zhu Shiqing even more unfolded: the meeting gathered a brilliant constellation of talent. There were navy representatives in pristine white uniforms, air force officers in slate-gray attire, and even a young German man sitting in attendance. According to the secretary beside them, this German was an assistant to Alexander von Falkenhausen, the Nationalist government's chief military advisor. "Beyond representatives from the army, navy, and air force, Lingering Garden has also seconded cryptographers and intelligence officers to assemble a specialized confidential bureau..." the short clerical soldier beside them whispered. "Seeing officers of your rank here is truly unprecedented..." "Why is that?" Zhu Shiqing asked, puzzled. "Those who know of this place are either representatives and backbones of various departments and services, or high-ranking figures who take part in decision-making up front. For instance, that man over there is the deputy commander of the Shanghai Peace Preservation Corps. And look at that one in the olive-drab uniform—he's the chief of staff of the 87th Division." Listening to the introduction, Zhu Shiqing followed the pointing finger and looked at each of them. It was true; those seated at the front were all heads of key sectors. Zhu Shiqing suddenly asked, "What about you?" "Me?" The clerk pointed to himself, wearing a grin as he lowered his voice. "There's another kind of person here—grassroots clerks like me!" "Oh... I see." Zhu Shiqing understood why the fellow had found it strange. Put simply, Lingering Garden housed either top brass or clerical support staff; middle-ranking officers like themselves occupied an awkward middle ground. In truth, however, Zhang Zhizhong genuinely needed vigorous young blood like Zhu Shiqing. As the situation evolved, the time had come for operational plans to transition from theoretical outlines to concrete execution. The main lights in Wufeng Hall had already been turned on, and officers from every branch were seated. Zhang Zhizhong stood alone at the front, the telegram crumpled slightly in his grip. He swept his gaze across the gathering, raised the dispatch, and spoke with fierce resolve: "Gentlemen, this is intelligence our confidential section has just intercepted. Vice Admiral Hasegawa Kiyoshi, commander-in-chief of Japan's Third Fleet, has sent requests to the Imperial General Headquarters for two consecutive days asking for army reinforcements in Shanghai. "I trust both sides have already felt the tension mounting across the entire Songhu region. Just yesterday, the intelligence section reported that the Japanese are carrying out an evacuation plan for their nationals in urban Shanghai. Under these circumstances, we have no time left to hesitate. I order! "The 87th Division is ordered to deploy along the Fushan line, the 88th Division to deploy to Wuxi, and the 36th Division to deploy south of Suzhou! All units shall await orders to concentrate toward Shanghai!" The moment the orders were issued, all the officers rose in unison, then sat back down in crisp alignment. A sharp, resolute gleam flashed in Zhang Zhizhong's eyes as he added: "I expect all departments to finalize their offensive plans and dispatch advance detachments into Shanghai to guard against sudden shifts. As for the precise hour of action, I shall travel personally to Nanjing to settle it with the Generalissimo. At this critical juncture, I hope you will all unite in wholehearted solidarity and never let years of meticulous planning come to nothing!" From the moment the meeting began, the clerk beside Zhu Shiqing had been furiously scribbling notes, leaving no time to chat. Having just returned from North China, Zhu Shiqing and Fang Wenjian had never imagined that another war would erupt in less than half a month. Small wonder that on the very day after the Lugou Bridge Incident broke out, Ming Quan had cabled them to return swiftly to Nanjing. Now, the meaning was crystal clear. A storm was brewing over Shanghai, often dubbed the purse of the Nationalist government. A monumental battle was about to unfold. Yet at this moment, Zhu Shiqing did not yet realize that the old comrades who had scattered to distant posts, the brothers-in-arms who had shared wine and laughter at the Qingliang Mountain camp, and tens of thousands of Chinese soldiers would reunite here to face the national crisis together. The Battle of Songhu had arrived right on schedule.