Chapter Thirty-Eight: The Routed Soldiers! (4,000 Words—Happy New Year)

It is well known that the other two regiments of the New First Division, including the logistics department, have three major concerns: fire, theft, and Li Yunlong. If Li Yunlong spots anything good or any exceptional soldier, that rascal is bound to find a way to poach them.

Shortly after, Tan Ziwei arrived as well. Liu Jianguo had summoned all three regimental commanders because the New First Division's upcoming battles against the Japanese would essentially be a meat grinder of trench warfare. With all three commanders present, Liu Jianguo needed to redeploy the defense line at Changye. During the discussion, there were no objections regarding resource allocation, fortification construction, or artillery placement. The only point of contention was the assignment of their respective defensive positions.

"If you ask me!" Li Yunlong grinned, "The Mingyang County seat to the north belongs to our New First Regiment!"

"Now, throughout the entire city of Changye and indeed all of Daxia, who hasn't heard that my New First Regiment wiped out the Sakata Regiment and the Kuroshima Cavalry Regiment in a single day, and even captured the Sakata Regiment’s colors?"

"Therefore, such a tough battle should be left to our New First Regiment!"

Tan Ziwei narrowed his eyes and waved a hand dismissively. "Old Li, you can't put it that way. While it was your men who fought the Japanese, the operational plan was devised by everyone, including the divisional headquarters! Your New First Regiment, when it comes down to it, was just the one doing the grunt work. Even if it were my New Third Regiment, the Sakata and Kuroshima regiments would have met the same end. We might have even been faster than your lot!"

Li Yunlong was instantly displeased. "Tan Ziwei, what the hell is that supposed to mean? Do you look down on my New First Regiment? Do you think we’re weaker than your New Third Regiment?"

Tan Ziwei feigned embarrassment and scratched the back of his head. "Oh, Old Li, why do you love hearing the brutal truth so much?"

"Damn it! My temper is flaring!" Tan Ziwei’s nonchalant demeanor instantly provoked Li Yunlong. "I’m going to make you realize today what real 'Iron Head Kung Fu' is!"

Li Yunlong rolled up his sleeves, ready to brawl. Tan Ziwei didn't back down, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. "What, you think I’m afraid of your 'Diamond Legs'? Come on then!"

"Come!"

Seeing his two top generals scrambling to take on the hardest battle, Liu Jianguo felt a sense of gratification. However, as they were about to come to blows, Long Wenzhang, who had remained silent until now, quietly stepped up to Liu Jianguo.

"Division Commander, leave the Mingyang County defense to our New Second Regiment."

"To your New Second Regiment?" Liu Jianguo raised an eyebrow. It wasn't that he doubted the combat capability of the New Second Regiment's soldiers; it was purely a matter of logistics. Currently, the New Second Regiment was not at full strength like the First and Third, which boasted four infantry battalions, one artillery battalion, and one anti-aircraft battalion. The New Second Regiment only had two infantry battalions and half an artillery battalion.

Although they had only half the manpower of the other regiments, their equipment was complete. As long as they recruited more men, the logistics officer, Sun Xun, could immediately provide the remaining gear. Previously, due to a shortage of troops, Liu Jianguo had ordered Meng Fanle and the New Second Regiment to temporarily oversee security in Changye and Jincheng. Now that Liu Jianguo had broken ties with Yan Laoxi, the battalion stationed in Jincheng had returned.

As the commander of the New Second Regiment, Long Wenzhang was well aware of his unit's manpower deficit. Still, he was determined to take Mingyang.

"Division Commander, the defense of Mingyang is no ordinary trench battle. In such complex terrain, victory doesn't depend on routine training, but on the adaptability of officers and soldiers. I know my regiment is understaffed. That is why I plan to go to the Yellow River ferry crossing to recruit!"

"They are all veterans who have been baptized by the fires of the Taiyuan Campaign. They know better than ordinary soldiers how to survive on the battlefield and how to kill more Japanese."

Li Yunlong and Tan Ziwei had drifted closer, wanting to hear why Long Wenzhang thought he could compete with them. Upon hearing this, the curiosity on Li Yunlong’s face vanished, and he shook his head.

"Long Wenzhang, it’s not that I look down on them. They are a bunch of stragglers who have been crushed by the Japanese, lost their nerve, and don't even have a unit left. Expecting them to hold Mingyang is asking for trouble! You might even find your own regiment being dragged down by them!"

Tan Ziwei didn't harbor as much prejudice against the stragglers, but he didn't hold high hopes for them either. Soldiers should die on the battlefield, wrapped in horse hide, rather than living a pathetic existence. Their current behavior was no different from that of deserters. This was why neither the Jinsui Army nor other Nationalist forces bothered to gather them—after all, what unit wants deserters?

Long Wenzhang understood these truths. He sighed, casting a somber gaze toward the south. In the towns near the Yellow River crossing, there were countless Daxia local soldiers abandoned by Yan Laoxi and the bald-headed leadership. They weren't just waiting for a boat ticket home; they were waiting for a glimmer of hope that seemed all but extinguished.

His own brothers had once been exactly like these men, lying in the shadows, staring at the bright sky, waiting for someone to dig them out of despair. No one understood their current state better than Long Wenzhang. Clenching his fists, he said with firm resolve:

"Division Commander, they are also soldiers of Daxia. They, too, have shed blood and sacrificed on the battlefield. They have simply lost their roots, which is why they have become this way. And I, Long Wenzhang, want to help them find their roots again! I want to turn them back into the proud men they once were!"

Li Yunlong and Tan Ziwei fell silent. Sometimes, living is far harder than dying. Liu Jianguo looked at Long Wenzhang and nodded slowly.

"Very well! Long Wenzhang, I will give your New Second Regiment a chance! If you can whip these stragglers into shape within a week, I will entrust the defense of Mingyang to you!"

"Thank you, Division Commander!!!"

...

Without delay, Long Wenzhang took a battalion and his persistent old comrades to a small county near the Yellow River crossing, where several reception camps for stragglers were located. There were soldiers from Sichuan, Jin, Hunan, and Northeast China. After securing control of the town, Long Wenzhang and his men headed toward the courtyard where the most stragglers were gathered.

Before they even arrived, they saw a group of ragged, beggar-like soldiers surrounding a large pot, cooking something. Seeing this familiar scene, Meng Fanle fought back tears and turned to smile at Long Wenzhang.

"Sila, I was just like them back then—a bit of salt, a few banana leaves, waiting for that bastard Yu Qingqing to arrive. I never expected that today, we would be doing what he did back then."

Long Wenzhang didn't say a word, just patted Meng Fanle on the shoulder. They arrived at the gate. Ignoring the startled guards, the burly Milong stepped forward and delivered a powerful kick. With a groan, the dilapidated gate crashed down.

The sudden sight of Long Wenzhang’s group—each armed with brand-new automatic weapons, wearing German-style steel helmets, sharp iron-gray uniforms, M24 grenades at their waists, chests covered in magazines, and fully loaded combat packs—stunned the stragglers. They were armed to the teeth, and the only thought in the minds of the stragglers was envy.

Seeing he had everyone's attention, Long Wenzhang stepped forward and shouted, "I am Long Wenzhang! Commander of the New Second Regiment of the New First Division!"

Some widened their eyes. The New First Division? They had heard that name recently.

"That's right!" Long Wenzhang continued. "The New First Division that wiped out the Sakata Regiment, killed the Kuroshima Cavalry, and slapped the Japanese in the face! You’ve all heard that Yan Laoxi is playing the 'Great Deserter,' abandoning his home province to the Japanese. We may be outsiders, but we are also Daxia people! We will never allow our ancestral lands to be handed over to the Japanese like this!"

"Yan Laoxi won't defend the three cities of Changye, but we will! And do you know which part of Changye is the hardest to hold? It's Mingyang!"

"My Division Commander told me that your New Second Regiment is too small, and that holding Mingyang would be suicide!" Long Wenzhang then lied, framing Li Yunlong. "That commander of the New First Regiment, Li Yunlong, heard about this and scoffed, saying you are all just stragglers! He said you'd only hold us back, that you'd only run, abandon your comrades, and act like cowards and trash!"

"Trash!!!"

Hearing this, many soldiers in and out of the courtyard gritted their teeth, clenching their fists so hard they wished they could kill Li Yunlong for saying such things.

Long Wenzhang scanned their faces and roared, "I told Commander Li that you are not cowards! You are not trash! You fought the Japanese with courage and ferocity—you showed the true spirit of Daxia! Especially the Sichuan Army! They wore straw sandals, carried bamboo hats, and held old-fashioned rifles, yet in the Songhu Campaign, the 26th Division fought the Japanese for seven days and seven nights at Dachang Town! Their casualty rate was 85%! Yet they held their positions until reinforcements arrived. Only 600 men walked out, carrying 200 wounded. Even the brutal Japanese were cowed by them!"

"The Northeast Army's 67th Army held the line at Songjiang until they were wiped out, and General Wu sacrificed himself for the country! I once had a Hunan brother who told me: 'If China is to fall, the people of Hunan must die first!' Tell me, can men from such units be cowards? Can they be trash?"

Milong, standing behind Meng Fanle, muttered with red eyes, "That bastard Sila, why does he have to be so moving?"

The stragglers in the courtyard were flushed with emotion. The Sichuanese, in particular, puffed out their chests, anxious for everyone to know they were from the Sichuan Army.

"Meng Fanle!"

"Present!"

Long Wenzhang took a rifle from him that the stragglers had never seen. *Pop-pop-pop!* A burst of fire riddled the poplar tree in the courtyard with dense bullet holes. "This is the latest semi-automatic rifle from the United States, the M1 Garand! Eight-round clip, but we use 20-round magazines! It outranges the Japanese Arisaka and you don't need to manually cycle the bolt!"

Long Wenzhang then took an MP40 submachine gun from Bula. He pulled the bolt and fired a burst at a thick branch of the same tree. *Da-da-da!* The branch fell away. "The latest German MP40! More advanced than the automatic weapons of the German-trained divisions! High fire rate, high speed—standard issue for our regiment! Within 200 meters, why aim? Just spray a burst! I don't believe the Japanese can even lift their heads!"

Before they could recover, Long Wenzhang turned. "Milong!"

"Present!" Milong stepped forward, holding the M2 Browning heavy machine gun. Long Wenzhang pointed at the thick poplar tree. "Fire!"

*Ka-ka-ka!* A dozen .50 caliber rounds tore through the old tree, and it crashed to the ground.

"The American M2 Browning! 12.7mm caliber, effective range 1,800 meters. Compared to this, the Japanese Type 92 heavy machine gun is a toy! Even their light tanks are paper-thin before it; one hit and they're ruined!"

Long Wenzhang continued like a merchant at an arms show, showcasing everything from German M24 grenades and Beretta M1934 officer pistols to M2 60mm mortars, grenade launchers, and RPG-7 rocket launchers.