The Mysterious Soldier of the Anti-Japanese War

Chapter 207: A sudden storm in the defense zone

The shadow of war quickly descended upon the Eighth Route Army's defense zone. A Japanese regiment, under the command of the brigade commander, Takeshita Konggu, launched a large-scale military operation, advancing aggressively on the Eighth Route Army's positions in three directions. Equipped with not only powerful artillery but also comparable Eighth Route Army equipment, including practically indestructible tanks, their heavy tracks leaving deep marks on the ground, and highly maneuverable armored vehicles, closely following behind...

The Japanese army marched in a mighty force, and they were rapidly approaching the Eighth Route Army's defense zone in trucks. Along the way, in order to ensure the safety of the march and to grasp the Eighth Route Army's defense situation in advance, they continuously sent out scout teams on sidecar three-wheeled vehicles to conduct fire reconnaissance in front of the main force.

The members of these scout teams, riding sidecar motorcycles, kicked up clouds of dust on the road, their roars shattering the surrounding tranquility. If they spotted any suspicious signs or potential threats, they would immediately stop and fire their mounted machine guns at the suspected area, scattering bullets frantically, sending up clouds of dust and debris. Only after confirming safety would they allow the main force to advance...

After discussion with the divisional party committee, the Eighth Route Army decided to leave the special forces battalion directly under the divisional headquarters in the defense zone. The soldiers of the special forces battalion quickly entered the position and dispersed. Some hid behind the hillside at the edge of the defense zone, set up machine guns, and built simple fortifications; the other part shuttled through the nearby woods, set up traps, and prepared to use the terrain and guerrilla tactics to contain the Japanese army. The soldiers in charge of vigilance kept a close eye on the movements of the Japanese army.

Meanwhile, the remaining main forces of the Eighth Route Army began rapidly shifting to the outer lines. The pitch-black darkness provided natural cover for their movements. Clad in light uniforms and cloth shoes, the soldiers advanced silently and swiftly along the winding, rugged mountain trails. To avoid making any noise, they communicated with each other using simple hand gestures, relaying commands such as advance, halt, and take cover. They carefully circumvented the main Japanese forces, relying on their familiarity with the terrain and keen perception to deftly avoid enemy patrols and reconnaissance.

After an arduous trek, the soldiers finally arrived near the depleted Japanese stronghold. They immediately halted their advance and took cover. Silence reigned around the stronghold, broken only by the occasional footsteps of a Japanese patrol. Crouching in the grass and hiding behind trees, the soldiers closely watched the movements of the Japanese troops within the stronghold, silently observing their deployments and patrol patterns. As time ticked by, their bodies gradually grew numb, but they remained motionless, patiently waiting for the perfect opportunity.

Finally, the moment was ripe. The company commander, with a sharp glance, scanned the surrounding soldiers, then, in a low, firm voice, gave the order to attack. Two nimble, experienced soldiers immediately stepped forward, bayonets drawn. Crooked at the waist, like cheetahs in the night, they silently advanced behind the Japanese sentry. Their movements were light and swift, each step precise and silent. Using the debris and shadows outside the stronghold, they gradually approached their target.

One of the soldiers flashed, appearing behind the Japanese sentry like a ghost. His left hand, like a pair of pliers, quickly covered the sentry's mouth. The bayonet in his right hand, flashing a deadly glint in the moonlight, instantly slashed across the sentry's throat. The entire action was so smooth and efficient that the sentry fell to the ground, dead, before he could even utter a sound.

Another soldier, equally agile, approached the sentry with immense speed, covering his mouth with his hand as he thrust his bayonet with immense force and precision into the sentry's heart. The bayonet lodged deeply in his chest, and the sentry's body stiffened, his eyes widening in terror. He struggled feebly with his hands for a few moments before falling completely still. With a stern look in his eyes, he confirmed the sentry was dead and quickly laid his body to the ground, unnoticed by the other Japanese soldiers in the stronghold.

Then, crouching, the two men swiftly gestured toward the battalion commander, signaling they could proceed. The commander then noticed the Japanese patrol turning back toward them. His expression froze, and he whispered, "Everyone, take cover. Don't make any noise." The soldiers quickly dispersed, each finding their own hiding spot. Some hid behind trees, some crouched on the slopes, and still others retreated into the nearby grass, motionlessly watching the patrol's movements.

When the patrol team was about ten meters away from them, the battalion commander stared at the Japanese soldiers. Seeing that the attention of several of them was attracted by the noise nearby, he thought the time had come and ordered again in a low and decisive voice: "Prepare for battle and listen to my orders." The soldiers heard the order, adjusted their posture slightly, gripped the red tasseled spears in their right hands, and kept their bodies tense, ready to go.

Then, the battalion commander whispered, "Throw!" The soldiers immediately emerged from their hiding places. With swift and coordinated movements, they hurled their red tasseled spears toward the Japanese patrol. With a whirring sound, the spears flew toward the Japanese soldiers, some accurately piercing their bodies, causing them to cry out in pain, while others, struck in the legs or arms, swayed and lost their balance.

Taking advantage of the Japanese patrol's confusion, the battalion commander lowered his voice and shouted, "Charge! Finish them! Don't let them fire warning shots!" The soldiers sprang to action, quickly rising to their feet and charging at the Japanese with the swiftness of cheetahs. As they rushed, they deftly drew their daggers from their waists and, in the blink of an eye, were upon the wounded and fallen Japanese soldiers. Without hesitation, they raised their daggers and stabbed them in the neck or chest, decisively dispatching those who were still struggling.

At that moment, a Japanese soldier, whose thigh had been pierced by a red-tasseled spear, endured the excruciating pain and used all his strength to pick up his fallen Type 38 rifle. Trembling, he pulled the bolt, chambered the bullet, and was about to pull the trigger to fire a warning shot at the distant Japanese troops. Suddenly, the battalion commander, quick-witted and quick-handed, whipped out his machete and, with a single blow, severed the Japanese soldier's rifle and hand. Before the soldier could even utter a cry, the battalion commander followed with another precise strike, severing his neck in one smooth, clean stroke.

In a moment, the entire Japanese patrol team was wiped out.