Chapter Seventy-Nine: The Bloody Battle at Chihe

"Damn it!" Watching this scene unfold, Wang Zanbin slammed his fist hard into the sandbag before him, his eyes reddening. He wanted desperately to rush to the rescue, but was utterly powerless. He could only shout furiously, "Everyone, get down and stay down! No one moves, no one stands up!"

He knew this was merely the Japanese army's initial test volley; the real danger was yet to come. As expected, the second round of shells soon rained down, and after the previous trial, the Japanese had greatly improved their accuracy. Every shell struck the position with deadly precision, engulfing the entire Chihe line in a storm of fire.

Countless soldiers were caught in the barrage, the explosions hurling earth and mud, burying many alive. Some lay pressed flat in the trenches, but the shells landed so close they were obliterated without even a cry escaping their lips.

Shells whistled overhead, detonating across the position, turning every fortification into heaps of ruins. A dozen or so soldiers nearby didn't even have time to react, their bodies riddled by shrapnel, falling to the ground with a single scream.

Seizing the chaos as the defenders' position was bombarded, the Japanese quickly organized another battalion. Each soldier hunched low, stealthily creeping forward under the cover of dust and smoke.

Within the haze, Commander Wang Zanbin saw the enemy's movements and grew frantic. He shouted at the top of his lungs, "Brothers, the enemy is coming! Open fire! Drive them back—don’t let them break through!"

Under the relentless shelling, the defending soldiers clung to the trenches, raising their rifles against the advancing Japanese. Bullets streamed toward the enemy, and many Japanese soldiers, hit, collapsed limply to the earth.

The remaining Japanese, realizing stealth was no longer possible, broke into a wild charge. Their battalion commander brandished his command saber and, crazed, shouted, "Kill them all!"

"For the Empire—kill! Slaughter every one of these Chinese before us!"

Spurred on, the Japanese soldiers seemed possessed, eyes bloodshot as they charged, firing wildly. Bullets rained onto the defenders' sandbags and earthworks, pocking the ground with little holes and muffled thumps.

Many defenders were struck, their bodies convulsing as if shocked, spasming until they finally went limp, blood pouring from their mouths as they fell atop the sandbags.

Seeing this, Wang Zanbin's face twisted in rage. He shouted, "Hold fast! Don't let the Japanese break through!"

He kept shouting, all the while clutching his crooked machine gun, raking the enemy with fire and mowing down a dozen Japanese soldiers.

The gun roared, Wang Zanbin spraying bullets like a madman, until suddenly the weapon clicked empty. "Quick, bring me more ammunition!" he bellowed. An officer moved to grab a nearby ammo box, but at that moment a sharp whistling sound cut through the air.

Then came a violent explosion—a Japanese shell had landed right beside him.

The blast carved a crater several meters wide, earth flying skyward and then raining down. Wang Zanbin and the officer were unable to dodge; both were buried under the falling dirt.

A nearby bodyguard witnessed this and, terrified, hurriedly dug them out.

Spitting dirt, Wang Zanbin reeled from the shock, his head buzzing. "Sir, are you alright?" the bodyguard called anxiously.

Shaking his head to clear the ringing, Wang Zanbin waved a hand. "I'm fine. Not dead yet," he said, spitting out another mouthful of earth and cursing, "Damn these Japanese shells—damn nuisance! Er Gouzi, get our artillery out! Let them taste our firepower!"

"Yes, sir!"

Er Gouzi, the bodyguard, responded and quickly ducked away to relay Wang Zanbin's command.

Soon, four or five mortars were wheeled out from behind the lines. Er Gouzi directed a dozen soldiers to load shells, shouting, "Commander wants us to hit the enemy hard! Aim for their infantry, blast them to pieces!"

"Yes, sir!"

The soldiers responded and swiftly adjusted their sights, loaded the shells, and fired.

A series of dull thuds echoed as the mortars launched their shells, which landed directly on the Japanese advance, exploding and killing over a dozen enemy soldiers.

Seeing this, Er Gouzi rejoiced. "Good! Keep firing! Kill them all!"

The gunners, excited by their success, quickly reloaded and fired again. Several volleys left gaps in the Japanese formation, bodies strewn across the now-empty ground.

"Excellent! Keep it up—hit them hard and crush those bastards!" Wang Zanbin shouted, joy lighting his face.

But his elation was short-lived. Suddenly, shells from the Japanese side whistled overhead and exploded among their positions.

The blasts landed near the mortars, and with thunderous explosions, Er Gouzi and his men were caught in the barrage. Shrapnel tore through them, killing all ten or so soldiers. Er Gouzi was thrown high into the air and crashed heavily to earth, never to move again.

But this was only the beginning. Several shells triggered a chain reaction, detonating nearby ammunition crates. The resulting explosions sent fragments flying everywhere, shredding countless soldiers into pieces.

Even those a little farther away, who had escaped the initial bombardment, were struck down by flying shrapnel, their screams echoing as they collapsed.

"Damn it!"

Wang Zanbin's eyes blazed red at the sight.

Those mortars were the only artillery his 174th Division possessed—his secret weapon, reserved for a decisive moment. He had barely unleashed them before the Japanese destroyed them, and Wang Zanbin felt as though his heart were bleeding.