You were tasked with guarding the Sihang Warehouse, and you ended up with a German-equipped division

Chapter 249 The Shocked Northwest Army: Infantrymen with Tank Cover are the Happy Infantrymen

In the past, when I was charging into battle, I always had a weight on my mind.

You never know if a bullet will pierce your chest in the next second, or if a Japanese machine gun will suddenly fire from any direction.

Every charge felt like a gamble, a bet that the bullet wouldn't land on their head.

But now, in front of him was a steel tank, and bullets hitting it only made a few "clangs" and couldn't hurt anyone at all.

The soldiers of the Northwest Army followed behind with their backs hunched over, feeling much more at ease. Some even had time to light a cigarette.

A veteran of the Northwest Army lowered his voice and said to his comrade next to him, "Damn, this thing is much better than the old days when we had to charge up on two legs."

His comrade swallowed hard, his eyes fixed on the front: "Stop talking nonsense, stay close, don't fall behind."

In the past, when infantry charged into enemy positions, the biggest threat was the constant barrage of machine gun bullets and the terrifyingly accurate marksmanship of the Japanese soldiers.

Japanese soldiers were all excellent marksmen, hitting their targets every time within 100 meters. Countless Nationalist soldiers fell victim to their precise shooting.

But the current situation is completely different.

Whether it was the Japanese machine gun emplacements or infantry fire, their firing range was almost entirely blocked by the armored vehicles charging from the front.

The bullets flew out, most of them landing on the armor plates, making a series of clanging sounds, like a rapid series of gongs.

The Northwest Army soldiers hid behind armored vehicles, resulting in surprisingly low casualties.

They followed the tanks of the Third Column and charged forward, and before they knew it, they had already reached the Japanese positions.

Only then did the soldiers of the Third Column, who had fought alongside them, turn around and shout:

"Brothers of the Northwest Army, stop hiding in the back! Charge forward, it's our turn to cover the armored vehicles!"

Before he finished speaking, the soldiers of the Third Column rushed out first.

They either jumped into the trenches to clear out the Japanese soldiers hiding there, or followed along the sides of the tanks to kill the Japanese soldiers who tried to get close enough to blow them up.

Their movements were crisp and clean, and their teamwork was seamless, as if they had rehearsed countless times.

Seeing this, the soldiers of the Northwest Army followed suit, carrying their guns and following behind.

Their movements were still somewhat clumsy; some ran too fast and almost had their heels run over by the tanks, falling face-first into the mud when they landed in the trench.

But in any case, they managed to learn the most basic infantry-tank coordination on the battlefield.

Of course, this kind of collaboration is still quite rudimentary.

If you were to throw them onto the battlefield alone, they would most likely be crushed by your own tanks.

But at this moment, with someone guiding and demonstrating, it's usable enough.

On the Japanese positions, the Japanese soldiers who were trapped in a desperate situation began to go mad.

Some people strapped several grenades to their bodies, intending to perish together with the tanks; others brandished Type 38 rifles, wanting to fight armored vehicles with bayonets—the scene was as absurd as a praying mantis raising its forearm to try to stop a wheel.

Most of these frantic counterattacks failed to reach the armored vehicles.

The Japanese soldiers who charged forward strapped with grenades were often swept to the ground by the infantry's concentrated fire before they even got close.

Those who tried to fight with bayonets didn't even get close to the armored vehicle before their bodies were torn apart by the heavy pointed bullets from the vehicle-mounted machine gun.

The power of a heavy-point bullet is no joke. When it hits a human body, it doesn't leave a small hole, but a bloody wound the size of a bowl.

The person who was hit didn't even have time to scream before collapsing to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.

When casualties reached a certain proportion, and when the surviving Japanese soldiers looked around and found that they could no longer find any comrades who could still move, the collapse of the defensive line became a matter of course.

Some people started to run away.

One person runs, which motivates two others to run; two people run, and they become a group of people running.

The defeat spread like a plague, unstoppable.

The officers drew their pistols and fired into the air in an attempt to stop the fleeing soldiers, but the soldiers were blinded by rage and ignored orders. Some even shot an officer with their bare hands before continuing to run wildly backward.

The atmosphere in the command posts of the 6th and 10th Divisions in Huoqiu County was extremely tense and oppressive.

The operations room wasn't small, but at that moment it felt suffocating.

The military map hanging on the wall was covered with dense red and blue arrows, as intricate as a spider web.

The phone on the table rang incessantly, each ring sounding like a death knell.

"When will reinforcements arrive?! We can't hold them off any longer! The enemy's tanks are about to run over my command post!!!"

The voice on the other end of the phone was almost hysterical, and the person's voice was hoarse from shouting.

"More than half of our troops have been killed or wounded, and the army is in complete disarray! Without artillery support, I have no choice but to commit seppuku!!!"

The other voice was choked with sobs, a sign of utter despair.

"The enemy tanks are charging up! Where are the anti-tank guns? Why haven't they been brought over from the rear yet?!"

Someone was yelling, and after they finished yelling, there was a loud bang on the other end of the phone, and then the line went dead.

These voices echoed in the command post, lingering in the ears of Tani Hisao and also in the ears of Ogisu Ritsuhei.

The expressions on their faces were unusually solemn, like eggplants covered in frost, bluish-purple, extremely unsightly.

Tani Hisao stood in front of the map, his hands resting on the table, his knuckles turning white from the force.

His gaze was fixed on the red arrows representing the enemy on the map. Those arrows converged on the center from three directions, like three sharp knives stabbing at the same time, each one aimed at a vital spot.

"Damn it... weren't they saying the enemy was going to retreat? Why are they still attacking?"

Hisao Tani's voice was cold, as if it were being squeezed out from between his teeth.

He turned his head, his gaze sweeping over the intelligence officer with a sharp, piercing look.

The intelligence officer lowered his head, cold sweat beading on his forehead, and he could barely speak: "This...this...that's exactly what the intelligence shows..."

"Display?" Hisao Tani sneered. "Your 'display' has caused me to lose three lines of defense."

Ogisu Rippei, who was standing to the side, raised his eyes and said, "I'm afraid we should ask the military's intelligence department about this issue."

And what about the troops on the southern front—didn't they say they had already launched an attack on Gushi to cut off the enemy's retreat? Why is there no sign of them now?

After they finished speaking, they looked at each other and sighed almost simultaneously.

The sigh carried a sense of helplessness and a hint of resentment. The battle had progressed to this point; it was too late to say anything.

"Reporting to the Division Commander! The eastern defensive line has completely collapsed, and enemy artillery has begun bombarding the city walls!"

The messenger's voice rang out at the door, urgent and flustered.

Tani Hisao was not surprised to hear this.

During the fierce attack in the previous two days, Li Jianghe's troops had been constantly shrinking their living space. The enemy's artillery fire had probably already covered the city walls.

The Japanese forces on the eastern front have completely collapsed, and the outer defenses no longer exist, which is why the artillery fire has landed on the city walls.

As if to confirm the messenger's words, a muffled thud suddenly came.

"Boom!!!"

That was the sound of the city wall collapsing.

It wasn't a crisp cracking sound, but a dull, heavy sound, like some enormous thing crashing down.

The ceiling of the command post trembled, and dust fell in a flurry, landing on the battle map and on the shoulders of the staff officers.