BSI Chapter 275 The Arrogant Japanese Army, 20 Howitzers Assist the 11th Army
Chapter 275 The Arrogant Japanese Army, 20 Howitzers Assist the 11th Army
"That makes sense," Gao Zhisong said after a moment of silence. "Then let's hold things steady and wear down the Japanese army's morale first."
"It's a good opportunity to see what our new weapons look like when they hit the Japanese."
As he spoke, a hint of anticipation appeared on his lips.
After a moment's thought, the magistrate of Xiaoshan issued the order:
"Call Hua Pinzhang and tell his troops not to put up a strong resistance at the beginning, but to fight and retreat."
He knew in his heart that since the Japanese devils looked down on them, they might as well adopt a more submissive posture to lower the Japanese army's guard.
Only in this way can subsequent surprise attacks and counterattacks catch them off guard. It's like playing chess: give them a few moves first, wait for them to get carried away, and then strike with a decisive blow.
On the Japanese side, Colonel Yoshimoto Mori of the 7th Division was leading his infantry regiment, gradually approaching Wutai Ridge.
He sat astride his horse, back ramrod straight, a look of unwavering determination on his face. Just then, the regimental staff officer came trotting up, panting, to report:
"Reporting to the Colonel, the artillery is ready. Shall we launch the attack?"
Jia Mubensen gave a cold laugh, a laugh like a blunt knife slowly stretching from the corner of his mouth:
"Begin the artillery barrage. Let's see what kind of enemy they are."
His words had barely faded when the Japanese field artillery roared deafeningly. Shells, trailing sharp whistles, crashed down on Wutai Ridge, causing the entire mountain range to tremble.
The flashes of light from the explosions were like someone constantly pressing the shutter button in the sky. The smoke billowed out, turning the setting sun a grayish-yellow.
Ten minutes later, the trenches that had been built on Hua Pinzhang's defensive position were completely unrecognizable.
The ground was riddled with craters, as if it had been repeatedly struck by a giant iron hammer. Soil, gravel, and broken wood were scattered all over the ground, and the air was filled with the pungent smell of sulfur.
Hua Pinzhang crouched in the trench, a blade of grass dangling from his mouth, his eyes as calm as still water. He watched the writhing figures of the Japanese soldiers below and muttered a curse under his breath:
"A bunch of bastards, they've been using the same old tricks for years."
In his view, Japanese soldiers were charging toward the mountaintop like locusts.
They had only one squadron, a force of just over a hundred men, yet they covered a front over five hundred meters wide.
The advance was rapid, with each squad providing cover for the others, constantly closing the distance to Hua Pinzhang's position.
"Commander, shall we fire now?" The guard beside him was getting impatient, his voice filled with urgency.
Hua Pinzhang spat the grass stem out of his mouth and said slowly:
"What's the rush? Let the troops in front put up a little resistance, then retreat."
His words acted like a lock, blocking the guard from saying anything more.
The battle at the front lasted less than an hour. The soldiers of the 11th Army on the position, following orders, symbolically fired a few rounds of gunfire, then turned and ran wildly toward the high ground behind them.
They ran in a panic, some even throwing away their guns, looking utterly disheveled.
Despite the initial victory, Jamomoto showed little surprise. In his view, it was simply expected.
The regimental staff officer took the weapons captured at the front and placed them in front of him, his tone tinged with contempt:
"Colonel, you really should take a look at their weapons and equipment—they're probably older than us."
It was a Hanyang-made frigate that was very likely produced in the Qing Dynasty. The outer handguard had a black patina and was shiny, like an old antique that had been touched by countless hands.
There were rust marks on the barrel, and looking inside the barrel, the inner wall was incredibly smooth, even the rifling had been worn away.
Jamimoto took the gun, examined it from all angles, and his cold smile deepened.
"Are these the enemy's weapons? If they were in our country, they could be in a military museum."
“That’s right,” the regimental staff officer agreed. “Many of the weapons the enemy abandoned on the position were like that. I even found a gunpowder gun among them.”
As he spoke, he couldn't help but laugh out loud.
Jamimoto chuckled, casually tossed the gun to the ground, and clapped his hands:
"I used to think that the 11th Army was at least part of the Central Army's operational order, but I didn't expect it to be even inferior to those local security regiments."
It seems the division commander's decision was correct—one infantry regiment is more than enough to deal with them.
He even began to think that his previous statement about taking Wutai Ridge within three days was probably too conservative.
At this rate, they could tear the 11th Army's defenses at Wutailing to shreds in two days, or even a day and a half.
Thinking of this, he felt increasingly pleased, as if victory was already in his grasp.
Little did he know that at that very moment, in the 11th Army headquarters at Wutai Ridge, Xiao Shanling was on the phone with Li Jianghe.
"That's right. We'll lure the enemy deep into our territory, feign weakness to the Japanese, and plan to launch a counterattack at night."
Xiao Shanling's voice was calm and powerful, "One blow will cripple this group of Japanese invaders on the other side."
Xiao Shanling's voice was calm and powerful, "One blow will cripple this group of Japanese invaders on the other side."
As he said this, he drew an arc on the map along the Japanese army's advance route, and then suddenly poked it—that position was precisely the weak point of the Japanese army's front line.
Li Jianghe glanced at the map on the other end of the phone, hesitated for a few seconds, and then answered crisply:
"That idea is fine. I'll send an artillery battalion over there; they should be able to get there before dark."
Upon hearing this, Xiao Shanling's face immediately broke into a wide smile, a smile like a flower blown open by the wind, unable to close: "Oh dear, how could I accept this? If the artillery battalion can fire a basic load of shells, tonight's surprise attack should be about 80% successful."
That was precisely his purpose in making that call. Although the 11th Army had its own artillery regiment, it lacked heavy artillery. How could Li Jianghe not understand his intentions?
So they directly transferred a 105mm howitzer battalion over.
The power and performance of this artillery were significantly superior to the heavy howitzers of the same caliber that were commonly used by the Japanese army.
It's somewhat laughable—in the Japanese military's organizational structure, a 105mm caliber gun was considered a heavy artillery piece, but in the Germans' terms, it was merely a light howitzer.
This is the difference, a stark and blatant difference.
After hanging up the phone, Xiao Shanling couldn't stop smiling.
Zhu Chi and Gao Zhisong, who were waiting expectantly, knew what was going on when they saw his expression—the deal was done.
"A howitzer battalion, with at least twenty 105mm howitzers, all German-made."
Xiao Shanling clapped his hands, his voice tinged with pride, "We'll definitely blow the Japanese devils to smithereens, making them scream like ghosts."