Chapter Seventy-Seven: The Battle of Xuzhou Erupts!
The Independent Brigade entered Dingyuan, and upon hearing the news, the commander of the 135th Division hurried over to meet with Chen Qingzhi. The commander of the 135th Division, Su Zuxin, was one of Liu Shiyi’s most capable officers—known for his ferocity in battle and his reputation for fearlessness within the 31st Army.
Learning of Chen Qingzhi’s arrival, Su Zuxin was delighted. That very evening, he hosted Chen Qingzhi in Dingyuan as a gesture of welcome and to sweep away the dust of travel. The hospitality was simple—plain tea and basic fare—given the wartime circumstances, but Chen Qingzhi did not mind, and the two exchanged a few words of courtesy.
The following day, the two men discussed Dingyuan’s defenses. At first, Su Zuxin was not entirely convinced by Chen Qingzhi’s plan to deploy his troops outside the city to construct a defensive line. Yet, when Chen Qingzhi actually moved his brigade out, Su Zuxin was left speechless.
Only then was the detailed defensive plan finalized: Su Zuxin’s 135th Division would garrison the city of Dingyuan, while Chen Qingzhi’s Independent Brigade would be stationed south of the city, constructing a defensive position one li beyond the city walls, with the walls themselves serving as the core of their defense.
The Independent Brigade would thus undertake the main defensive task outside the city.
At first, Fang Xiaodong had voiced some concerns about this plan. He argued that, though the Independent Brigade was well-equipped, the soldiers were all new recruits. If they were thrown into battle outside the city so suddenly, casualties could be severe.
But Chen Qingzhi shook his head, unmoved by this worry. He had his own reasons. Deploying the brigade outside the city gave him much more operational flexibility, unconfined by the limits of Dingyuan’s walls. Should an opportunity for action or reinforcement arise, he could quickly maneuver his forces as needed. If, however, they were confined within Dingyuan, they would be forced into a purely passive defense, the entire brigade firmly pinned down and unable to move. In the worst-case scenario, if the Japanese launched a fierce assault and higher command ordered them to hold Dingyuan at all costs, the city could become the Independent Brigade’s tomb.
This was something Chen Qingzhi would never allow.
Deploying outside the city risked higher casualties should the Japanese attack, but in the long run, the advantages outweighed the drawbacks. Mobile warfare and guerrilla tactics were far preferable to a static defensive battle. After careful consideration, Chen Qingzhi made his decision.
When he explained his reasoning to Fang Xiaodong and the others, they nodded in agreement, their objections silenced.
And so, the Independent Brigade began building defensive positions outside the city, with Su Zuxin sending men from the 135th Division to assist.
Given the brigade’s firepower, Chen Qingzhi paid special attention to the construction of the positions. He established various fire points to guarantee adequate firepower. Of his three regiments, only Fang Xiaodong’s regiment was stationed on the southern defensive line; the other two remained inside Dingyuan as a reserve force.
As for Zhu Xiaocheng’s artillery regiment, Chen Qingzhi split it in two—one part built defensive positions inside the city, while the other was placed to the left rear of the regiment outside the city, serving as artillery support. An entire battalion was assigned to guard the artillery positions outside the city.
The artillery pieces deployed outside were mostly 61mm and 80mm mortars—lightweight, easily maneuvered in response to emergencies.
With these arrangements, the Independent Brigade soon had its battle plan in place. Dingyuan, under the protection of the 135th Division and the Independent Brigade, seemed impregnable—at least, so thought the soldiers of both units.
But was it truly impregnable?
Chen Qingzhi was uncertain, and so was Su Zuxin. Both had fought countless battles against the Japanese and knew their strength well. In their experience, defensive lines believed to be unbreakable could, when facing the Japanese, melt away like snow and collapse in an instant.
Could they hold out this time? No one could say.
As everyone stood ready, time slipped by, and soon it was February 1938—the twenty-seventh year of the Republic.
To open up the Tianjin-Pukou railway and link the northern and southern battlefields, the Japanese headquarters amassed eight divisions, three brigades, and two detachments—a force of about 240,000 men—and launched a fierce offensive.
The Japanese Central China Expeditionary Army, under General Hata Shunroku, and the North China Area Army, under General Terauchi Hisaichi, commanded their forces in a pincer attack from north and south.
To the north of Xuzhou, the Japanese Second Army split into two columns. The eastern column, the Fifth Division, advanced south from Weixian, heading straight for Linyi.
The other column, the Eighth Division, also marched south from Weixian, aiming to reach Linyi via Yishui and Juxian. The Chinese Third Army Group’s Fortieth Division was ordered to hold positions north of Yishui, blocking the Japanese advance.
Meanwhile, the Japanese First Division moved south from Weixian, attempting to bypass the Fortieth Division’s defenses and strike at Mengyin, only to be checked by elements of the Third Army Group near Mengyin.
On the southern front below Xuzhou, the Japanese also split their forces. The Third and Ninth Divisions, seeking to advance via Tianshui, were blocked by elements of the Chinese 89th Army, which had established defensive lines south of Tianchang and on the northern approaches to Laian and Jiangdu, thus cutting off the Japanese advance.
Frustrated, the Japanese Third and Ninth Divisions were forced to redirect their attack toward Chuxian, with the Thirteenth Division advancing directly from Nanjing to Chuxian.
The defenders at Chuxian, the Chinese Seventh Army, were ordered to resist, and a bloody battle ensued. But Chuxian was not a place to be held to the death. After a period of resistance, the defenders began to withdraw toward the Chihe area.
The Japanese, relentless, pressed their attack towards Chihe, massing their forces in an attempt to force a crossing.
Fearing disaster on the southern front, Li Zongren, Commander-in-Chief of the Fifth War Zone, urgently ordered the main force of the 31st Army south from Dangshan to reinforce the line and bolster the defenses.
Thus began the Battle of Xuzhou.
Strictly speaking, the Battle of Xuzhou was the first true large-scale engagement fought by the Republic in the War of Resistance.
The Battle of Shanghai had been a disastrous defeat—defenders’ will to resist was not strong, and it was more a rout than a true battle. In that campaign, the Central Army’s hundreds of thousands were relentlessly pursued and battered by the Japanese—an utter humiliation.
The Defense of Nanjing, strictly speaking, was not a major engagement either, for the city’s leadership lacked the resolve for a fight to the death.
But the Battle of Xuzhou was different. Thanks to thorough preparations, the Central Army enjoyed a significant numerical advantage. And with Xuzhou’s strategic location being so critical, there was no room for error—the will to resist was strong.
Everyone understood: if Xuzhou fell, the Japanese would link the northern and southern fronts and could then drive straight for Wuhan. If that happened, half the nation would be lost to the enemy—a prospect the leadership could not accept.
And so, they mustered all available forces to organize a great battle with the Japanese at Xuzhou.