Rise From Eight Hundred

But perhaps what makes this infantry squad that was slaughtered by the "devil" even more sad is that their death is not as important as they imagined.

They are just a trigger.

A trigger made of death.

Just like the earthworms in the ground, they are dug out by fishermen and used as bait on the hook. The ultimate goal of the fisherman is fish.

Big fish!

"What are you shooting?" The commander of the 13th Infantry Regiment of the Japanese Army, Hashimoto Kingoro, who was awakened by the gunshots and explosions, rolled off the simple camp bed and asked in surprise.

The Japanese colonel did not walk out of the command post to watch the dark battlefield. His years of military career told him that the explosion seemed to be not far from his command post, which instinctively made him aware of the danger.

In the daytime battle, there were many Chinese hiding in the dark and shooting cold guns. Many lieutenants and sergeants became their key targets, resulting in a sharp increase in combat losses, so that officers above the rank of second lieutenant had to give up the lighter Nambu 14 pistol and pick up the heavy 38 rifle.

He would naturally not be stupid enough to go out and become the target of the enemy.

This is because the Japanese colonel didn't know that his division commander had actually made a fool of himself. He had finished his life in the sunset of the ancient city, but his ambitions were not fulfilled! Even if no one toasted him, he should have become hard by now.

"Colonel, it seems to be from the second line of defense in the west, where there is an infantry squad of the 4th Infantry Battalion." A captain rushed into the command center to report to the angry Japanese colonel.

"But the problem doesn't seem to be too big. The explosions caused by gunfire and grenades are not intense. I think they should have solved the small-scale enemy forces lurking in."

"No, there must be no negligence in such a battle situation. Send someone to ask what happened. If there are Chinese who were killed, bring their bodies here. I want to dig out the courage of these daring Chinese to see if their bitter gall is really that big." Hashimoto Xin Goro's expression was solemn, but his eyes were flashing with a ferocious light.

It was not because he was upset by the interruption of his short sleep, but the Chinese's tenacity broke his heart as the commander of the most elite infantry regiment of the Sixth Division.

The elite troops must become the sharpest swords under the commander when encountering difficult battles. This is a convention and also his own awareness.

However, what no one expected was that the Chinese would be so hard that the sharpest sword of the Sixth Division was also cut.

The Sixth Infantry Battalion was almost completely destroyed, and the 4th and 5th Infantry Battalions also suffered nearly one-third of losses in two days of fighting. Compared with the 23rd Infantry Regiment, which was also deployed on the battlefield, his troops were already seriously insufficient. The reason why he could still be the first commander on the front line was purely because Sakai Tokutaro gave him face.

The evil in his chest was difficult to vent, only the Chinese, even if it was just a few corpses.

The devilish thoughts were already spreading and growing in the butcher's heart like spring weeds.

"Hi!" The captain of the regiment guard squadron responsible for guarding the front-line command bowed his head and received the order.

After venting his anger, the Japanese colonel could no longer fall asleep. He could only sit on a small vest and carefully look at the map, which was the crystallization of the wisdom of the imperial intelligence agency for many years.

The situation around Songjiang City, even a small river, was marked on it, but unfortunately the description and planning of the small city of Songjiang was a bit rudimentary, that is, several main streets divided Songjiang City into several regular urban areas.

I think no one expected that a tiny place would become a roadblock for the imperial army.

In fact, what gave Hashimoto Kingoro a headache was not the intricate terrain in Songjiang City, but the Chinese people's tenacious will that made him look sideways.

On the relatively flat battlefield in North China, all the tenacity of the Chinese was blown to pieces by the cannons carried by the regiment or division. The pitiful small-caliber mortars they were equipped with were useless except for causing some damage to the infantry.

But here, mortars have become the sharpest firearms.

With strong will and sharp firearms, the Chinese firmly held the defense line in the city. Although it was shaky under the countless attacks of the imperial soldiers, it was miraculously held.

If the Chinese held every city like this, what would the empire do? Could the empire's planes and artillery blow every city into powder?

That was obviously impossible.

There has never been a precedent in the world to destroy a city by relying solely on artillery fire.

The Japanese colonel was very clear about this point. Not to mention the semi-mechanized Japanese army now, even if it was put 90 years later, the American cowboys equipped with missiles and armed to the teeth would not be able to conquer a city. In the end, they still had to rely on infantry.

Human beings, when they are fragile, may be killed by a cold, but when they are tenacious, even after dozens of days or even months of bombing, they can still shoot revenge bullets in the corners of the ruins.

Of course, the Japanese colonel may not have thought that his country and nation would become the first precedent in the world to be conquered by two "fat man" bombs.

Once the sword of Damocles hanging over the heads of future humans falls, even the strongest will will turn into ashes, along with the city.

From the day humans created this technology, they faced the danger of returning to primitive society, which is not within the scope of ordinary gunpowder-based thermal weapons.

The Japanese colonel's contemplation did not last too long. After five or six minutes, the Japanese captain ran into the headquarters with a panic on his face and reported: "Colonel, we need to withdraw the direct squadron to strengthen the defense of the headquarters. The second line of defense really has Chinese infiltrates. Most of the infantry squad was destroyed, and only one person survived."

"What?" The Japanese colonel stood up suddenly, with a cold light in his eyes.

"Where is the surviving soldier? Let him come to the headquarters. I want to ask him in person."

"Hi! He is outside."

"Wait, has his identity been verified?"

"It has been verified! He is a corporal under the Hashida Squadron of the 4th Infantry Battalion."

"Let him in, and the rest of you should be alert!" The Japanese colonel waved his hand and asked his direct squadron leader to go out.

The man who walked in was tall, half a head taller than the Japanese colonel who was only 1.63 meters tall, which made the Japanese colonel who needed to look up at him startled for no reason.

But being tall is not the main reason.

Although such a burly figure is rare in the Japanese army, it is not that there is no one. It is not possible for the short-legged gene to suddenly mutate!

Anyway, the Japanese have never felt that there is anything wrong with their height. It is just that those Westerners have been eating raw meat and drinking blood for too long to grow into that gorilla-like appearance.

Rather, although there is no blood on the uniform of this corporal, a strong smell of blood keeps rushing into the nose of the Japanese colonel.

This guy has killed people, and killed many people.

However, after killing so many people, why is there only gunpowder and dust on his uniform?

His eyes suddenly became sharp, and his hand quietly touched the command knife hanging on his waist: "Soldier, report your organization!"

The Tang Dao wearing the uniform of the Japanese corporal smiled: "Colonel, since you are ready to draw your sword, do you still need to know so clearly?"

"Chinese?" Hashimoto Xingoro was horrified.

He was not shocked by the Chinese themselves, but by the confidence and calmness of his opponents.

To be able to pass the guards' check and arrive here, he must be unarmed, but I have a pistol and a command knife, and he dared to confess his identity when I just started to doubt him.

Such a person, if not a madman, there is only one possibility.

He is very strong.

Just like the strong smell of blood on him, it should all be from his opponent.

Perhaps, the so-called small team that was so-called mostly broken in glory should have died, and that was his masterpiece, and he just used this reason to get close to the tightly guarded command center.

His target is himself.

In a flash, Hashimoto Xingoro's brain was running at high speed, and he guessed the facts almost accurately.

"Come on!" The loud roar of the Japanese colonel who tried his best to draw out his command knife was greeted by a fist as big as a bowl.

What was it like for Zhen Guanxi to be under Lu Tingjie back then? The Japanese colonel who had read Water Margin should have experienced it.

Not only was his nose directly broken, but his front teeth were also smashed out.

As for the knife that had just been drawn, it became a trophy of the Tang Dao.

The pain on his face had just arisen when the Tang Dao whipped the Japanese colonel's arm, who subconsciously raised his arm.

The military boots with iron nails directly broke the arm bone.

The Japanese colonel who once allowed his soldiers to massacre thousands of people probably never dreamed that one day he would be slaughtered in his own command post.

Moreover, it was a Chinese.

Outside the house, there were more than 20 guards who were staring at the darkness with their eyes wide open.

This was really an extremely painful and ironic fact.