Chapter Eighty-One: The Invaders Deploy Armored Vehicles

Crackling and snapping sounds echoed as earthworks caught fire, filling the air with the sharp noise of burning wood. The battlefield was riddled with craters left by shells, and the trenches overflowed with corpses—many broken and incomplete, their blood pooling on the ground and soaking it in a dark crimson hue.

Smoke hung heavily in the air, and the entire sky seemed weighed down, dark and oppressive like looming storm clouds. After a fierce battle, the 174th Division finally had a precious moment to rest.

Wang Zanbin sat in the trench, utterly exhausted, his lips dry and pale. His left arm was wrapped in bandages, blood seeping through the cloth.

“Commander, have some water,” a guard offered, handing him a canteen. Wang Zanbin took it and drank deeply, moistening his parched lips before asking, “What’s the situation with the troops?”

His voice was hoarse, rough as if strained through a broken bell.

“The division has suffered heavy losses,” the guard replied gravely. “Every unit took casualties to varying degrees. Altogether, we’ve lost more than four thousand men.”

“Four thousand…” Wang Zanbin couldn’t help but sigh upon hearing this.

The 174th Division had only a little over eight thousand soldiers to start with, and now, more than half were lost.

“It’s been utterly brutal,” the guard said, his tone somber. “Commander, I don’t think we can hold Chihe any longer. Has headquarters said how much longer we need to stay?”

“If we keep holding on, the 174th Division will be wiped out.”

Wang Zanbin drank another mouthful of water and replied, “The rear defensive line is set up. We can withdraw at any time.”

“But the Japanese are attacking so close now—if we retreat, and they pursue us, it could turn into a rout. To ensure a safe withdrawal, the corps commander has set ambushes along the route at Majia Hill, Sanhe Market, and Mingguang. If the Japanese chase us, they’ll be caught off guard.”

“So we just need to hold for one more day. After tomorrow, we can retreat,” Wang Zanbin said.

“Understood, Commander,” the guard nodded.

Wang Zanbin nodded in return, gazing ahead.

After the Japanese pulled back, half an hour had passed without a renewed attack, which felt unusually strange.

He took out his binoculars to observe the distant enemy, but saw nothing conclusive, only sporadic movements of Japanese troops.

“What are the Japanese up to? Why haven’t they attacked yet?” the guard asked, puzzled, peering into the calm distance. Usually, even if their infantry failed, the Japanese would respond with heavy artillery bombardment, but this time, there was nothing.

Everyone found it odd.

“The quieter it is, the more cautious we must be,” Wang Zanbin said, lowering his binoculars with a furrowed brow. “They’ve attacked for days and haven’t taken this position—they must be growing desperate!”

“They won’t give up so easily. The Japanese are definitely planning something. When their attack comes, it’ll be the fiercest we’ve faced yet,” Wang Zanbin continued. “Tell the men to stay alert and hold the line. If we last just one more day, we can withdraw.”

“Yes, sir!” The guard nodded, glanced at the distance, then hurried off through the trench to relay Wang Zanbin’s orders.

Soon, every soldier was on high alert, closely watching the Japanese movements.

On the position, the 174th Division’s defenders were ready, awaiting the next Japanese assault.

Two hours passed before they saw a squad of Japanese soldiers advancing in a crouch.

Though only the infantry was visible, nobody relaxed. The Japanese had spent two hours preparing before attacking, making this assault feel highly unusual compared to their previous, more aggressive attempts.

Even the ordinary soldiers knew this attack would be anything but simple.

As the Japanese crept closer, Wang Zanbin shouted, “Hold your fire, brothers—wait until they’re near, then open up!”

The Japanese continued their approach, soon reaching within four or five hundred meters of the position.

Suddenly, they halted and spread out, forming a skirmish line.

At that moment, before Wang Zanbin could react, the ground began to tremble.

He saw the earth, tiny grains of dirt and sand, quivering violently—the ground shuddered, growing stronger by the second, accompanied by a deep rumbling, as if an earthquake were imminent.

Seeing and hearing this, Wang Zanbin was stunned, then his expression changed drastically. He shouted urgently, “Damn it! The Japanese tanks are coming!”

“The enemy tanks are here!”

His cry stunned the entire force.

Everyone stared tensely toward the Japanese lines. Before long, massive vehicles emerged from the woods, lumbering forward.

The rumbling engines, rotating turrets, and menacing barrels sent chills down their spines.

“Damn it, the enemy’s sent three armored vehicles!” Wang Zanbin cursed, his face darkening.

If the Japanese attacked with infantry—even with shelling—he wouldn’t be so distressed. Infantry, however fierce, could still be killed with a bullet.

But armored vehicles were another matter entirely.

The Japanese tanks’ armor rendered bullets useless, and the 174th Division had no weapons capable of stopping them. With armored vehicles in play, they couldn’t resist.

“Damn it! The Japanese clearly want to finish us off in one blow—bringing in tanks!” Wang Zanbin raged.

No wonder the enemy hadn’t attacked for two hours—they must have called for reinforcements, bringing up armored vehicles.

“Commander, what do we do now?” a regimental commander rushed over, face grim.

“What else? Stand your ground! Even if it costs lives, we must hold back those tanks. We must defend Chihe!”

“Tell the men—hold fast! No one retreats! If anyone falls back when the tanks arrive, we’re finished!” Wang Zanbin commanded.