Firefight at Willow Bay

Under the crooked jujube tree, Zhao Weiguo squatted on the ground with a map spread out on his knees.

The map has three dashed arrows, each marked with a time: the first arrow points to the entrance of Willow Bay and is marked "15 minutes"; the second arrow points to the bend in Willow Bay and is marked "25 minutes"; the third arrow points to the exit of Willow Bay and is marked "35 minutes".

He put the charcoal pencil away and looked at the three arrows.

"The enemy will arrive at this time," he said. "At most a quarter of an hour early, at most a quarter of an hour late."

Staff Officer Luo squatted down beside him, looked at the map, and nodded.

What about us?

Zhao Weiguo pointed to the terrain of Willow Bay.

The road at Willow Bay is narrow and densely wooded. To the east, a thicket of mixed trees hugs the bottom of the gully, while to the west, the hillside offers a panoramic view of the entire northern gully. The road at the bottom of the gully is only wide enough for a mule cart to pass, with withered grass and shrubs on both sides. The shrubs are not tall, but dense enough to provide shade. The road bends at Willow Bay, cutting the gully in two; one cannot see south from the north, nor north from the south.

This bend is the key to the ambush.

"The Third Company buried themselves in the mixed woods east of the road," he said. "The First Company circled around to the north entrance and sealed off their retreat route. The command post was set up behind this jujube tree."

He pointed to the crooked jujube tree.

"Three positions: block the front, cut off the rear, and control the overall situation."

Staff Officer Luo nodded, then turned and ran off.

Zhao Weiguo stood up, walked to the edge of the ditch, and looked at the road at the bottom. The road was a dirt road, the ruts frozen solid, making a crunching sound when stepped on. He squatted down and touched the road surface with his hand; it was slippery with ice shards.

"A mule's hooves will slip on this road," he muttered to himself. "It will be slow."

He stood up, walked back behind the jujube tree, squatted down, and looked towards the distant North Gully. The sun had already risen, shining on the hillside, where the withered grass swayed in the wind, casting long shadows.

The sound of mule bells could be heard in the distance.

The sound was soft, but it could be heard clearly in the quiet mountain valley.

Zhao Weiguo raised his hand, signaling everyone to stay still.

The sound of mule bells grew closer, coming from the direction of Beigou. First came two mules, with two men riding them, dressed in yellow military uniforms and carrying guns. They walked very slowly, stopping every two steps, as if they were scouting the way.

Old Hu asked in a low voice.

"To fight or not to fight?"

Zhao Weiguo raised his hand.

"Let it pass."

Two mules entered Willow Bay, crossed the bottom of the ditch, their hooves slipping on the frozen ground. The mules brayed twice, and the rider pulled them back. The rider looked around, saw nothing, and turned to signal to the rear of the group.

The gesture means: Road is safe.

The two mules walked out of Willow Bay and disappeared behind the southern hillside.

Zhao Weiguo watched them walk away and said in a low voice.

"Let them live so that those who come after them can enter without worry."

Staff Officer Luo nodded.

More mule bells and footsteps came from afar, many footsteps crunching on the frozen ground, like someone beating drums.

Zhao Weiguo stood up, walked behind the jujube tree, and looked towards the North Ditch.

A reinforced Japanese company has arrived.

Two heavy machine guns were at the front, with the gunners carrying the barrels and the assistant gunners carrying the gun mounts, leading the column. Behind them were infantrymen, lined up in two rows, carrying their rifles and marching in neat formation. Further back were mules and horses, carrying a mountain gun covered with an oilcloth, its barrel reflecting the sunlight.

The company commander sat on a brown horse with a military knife hanging from the saddle, its hilt gleaming in the sunlight. He was muttering curses, the words carried away by the wind, making it impossible to understand what he was saying, but the anger in his voice was palpable.

Zhao Weiguo squatted behind the jujube tree, watching them walk into Willow Bay.

He took out a pocket watch from his pocket. The watch was made of brass, and the numbers on the dial were worn and illegible, but the hands were still moving. He checked the time, then looked at the Japanese soldiers at the bottom of the ditch.

The Japanese troops stretched out in a long line, from the entrance to Beigou all the way to the bend at Liushuwan. The bend cut the column into several sections; those in front had already passed the bend, while those behind were still on the other side.

Zhao Weiguo looked at his pocket watch and waited.

Wait until the heavy machine guns have passed the bend, wait until the mountain artillery has passed the bend, wait until the main infantry force has passed the bend.

He said in a low voice.

"Thirty seconds."

Chen An lay beside him, clutching a grenade in his hand. His palms were sweaty, and the wooden handle of the grenade slipped. He wiped it with his sleeve and then gripped it tightly again.

Thirty seconds.

Zhao Weiguo's hand was raised in mid-air.

The Japanese soldiers at the bottom of the ravine were still moving, unaware that death was already looming over them. The company commander, mounted on his horse, was still cursing, cursing the supply team in Huanghuai Gully for losing contact, cursing the hardship of this mission, and cursing the cold weather and slippery roads.

Twenty seconds.

The new recruit, Shuanzi, lay prone in the thicket, his rifle trembling. The barrel struck a branch, making a soft cracking sound. Liu Dashan lay beside him, pressing down on the barrel with the back of his hand, and whispered.

"The first shot should be aimed at the machine gunner."

Shuanzi nodded, and the gun barrel stopped shaking.

ten seconds.

Zhao Weiguo's finger twitched.

Five seconds.

three seconds.

one second.

His hand fell.

A shot rang out.

The third company fired first, bullets flying from the thicket, hitting the two foremost heavy machine guns. The gunfire echoed in the ditch, like someone banging on a metal bucket, deafeningly loud. The two machine gunners fell almost simultaneously to their rifles, their bodies slumped to the side, motionless on the buttstocks, blood flowing from the buttstocks onto the frozen soil at the bottom of the ditch. The assistant gunner, stunned by the gunfire, pulled the trigger wildly, bullets flying into the air, and before he could adjust his position, he was finished off with a follow-up shot.

Then came a series.

A barrage of cluster grenades was launched from the north entrance. The grenades arced through the air, landing near the mountain gun carried by mules and horses, exploding in a burst of fire and smoke. The mules and horses were scattered, neighing and running wildly. The mountain gun overturned by the ditch, killing the four men of the gun crew instantly. Some were blown away, some were trampled to death by the mules and horses, and some lay motionless beside the gun barrel.

The Japanese troops at the bottom of the ditch were pinned down. The front ranks were suppressed in the middle of the road by the firepower of the Third Company, and the rear ranks were blocked by the First Company. The mules and horses in the middle were braying and some were lying on the ground, while others were running around in the ditch.

The Japanese sergeant was shouting something, but his voice was drowned out by the gunfire and couldn't be heard. He tried to reorganize the firepower, but the machine guns were out of commission, the mountain guns were also out of commission, and the infantry lay on the ground, too afraid to move.

Zhao Weiguo squatted behind the jujube tree, watching the battle at the bottom of the ditch, without moving.

"Take out the sergeant first," he said, "then the corporal, then the grenade launcher operator."

The gunfire intensified, bullets whizzing across the ditch floor and striking the walls, sending dirt flying. A Japanese sergeant was hit and fell to the ground, and the corporal next to him was also hit and fell on top of the sergeant.

The Japanese company commander reacted swiftly; he jumped off his horse, drew his sword, and forced his soldiers to disperse and form a battle formation.

"Whoever retreats will be killed!" he shouted, his voice echoing loudly in the ditch.

The Japanese soldiers were cornered. Some lay on the ground firing, some hid behind the ditch wall, and some crawled into the bushes. They began to return fire, bullets whizzing over the top of the slope, hitting the dry grass and sending grass clippings flying.

Zhao Weiguo didn't move, continuing to squat behind the jujube tree, looking at the bottom of the ditch.

"Keep the firepower suppressing the enemy," he said. "Take out the officers first, then the machine gunners, then the infantry."

The battle lasted for five minutes.

Five minutes, three hundred seconds, Zhao Weiguo counted in his mind. Every second bullets flew by, every second people fell, but he didn't count the fallen people; he counted the enemy's firing positions.

Five minutes later, the Japanese machine guns and mountain guns became completely ineffective. The machine gunners and artillery crews were all killed, and the guns and cannons were rendered useless, their parts scattered at the bottom of the ditch, covered in blood and mud. But the company commander was still forcing the remaining soldiers, who numbered forty or fifty. Some lay on the ground firing, some hid behind the ditch wall, and some crawled into the bushes.

The battle shifted from an ambush and crushing attack to a stalemate and protracted struggle.

Zhao Weiguo stood up, walked to the edge of the slope, and looked at the bottom of the ditch.

"The company commander is still alive," he said.

Staff Officer Luo nodded.

"He can keep the troops in check," Zhao Weiguo said. "We need to take him down first."

He turned to look at Chen An.

"Call Liu Dashan here."

Chen An ran away.

Zhao Weiguo crouched back behind the jujube tree, looking at the Japanese company commander at the bottom of the gully. The company commander was crouching behind the gully wall, holding a military knife, directing the remaining troops to fight back. There was blood on his face, he didn't know if it was his own or someone else's, but he didn't wipe it off, his eyes were fixed on the hillside, and he was still shouting.

Zhao Weiguo pulled out his pistol, released the safety, and pointed the muzzle at the bottom of the ditch.

He was waiting, waiting for the company commander to show himself.

The company commander didn't show himself; he crouched behind the ditch wall, directing the remaining soldiers to crawl into the bushes, trying to circle around to the back of the hillside.

Zhao Weiguo figured it out.

"He's taking a detour," he said, "trying to get behind us through the bushes."

Staff Officer Luo's expression changed.

"What should we do?"

Zhao Weiguo stood up, walked to the edge of the slope, and looked in the direction of the bushes.

"Tell the Third Company to send men to block the bushes," he said. "We can't let them get around here."

He turned to look at the bottom of the ditch, where gunfire was still ringing out. Bullets whizzed over the top of the slope, hitting the withered grass and sending grass clippings flying.

The battle is not over yet.