Chapter 41 Resting in the Shrine of the Loyal and Brave

October 22, 1938. The Martyr Cemetery of the Provisional 2nd Division in Qifeng County.

Ever since Wang Yue took command in Qifeng County, he began preparing his own martyr cemetery. Although he intended to keep a low profile and survive this turbulent era, he certainly did not want his loyal brothers who had fought through life and death by his side to die in a foreign land and leave their bones unburied. The Northeast Army bore guilt, but that was the crime of a single prodigal son, not the crime of several hundred thousand Northeast Army soldiers, let alone the millions of exiled compatriots.

Every soldier who fell on the Anti-Japanese battlefield deserved respect and was worthy of the inscription "Eternal Glory." Therefore, a towering monument stood at the entrance of the martyr cemetery, bearing eight gleaming golden characters: "Eternal Glory to the Anti-Japanese Martyrs." Viewed from afar, one could almost sense the fierce atmosphere of marching armies and clashing swords.

"Divisional Commander, isn't it a bit too high-profile to use that man's handwriting? Should we perhaps request calligraphy from Chairman Lin instead?" This was Zhou Weiguo's first time seeing the massive monument, which stood 19.31 meters high with a base perimeter of 9.18 meters, having previously been kept covered under a red cloth.

At the sudden sight of those characters on the monument, Zhou Weiguo felt a slight tingling sensation across his scalp. It was not as though nobody used that man's handwriting these days, and quite a few people within the National Revolutionary Army collected it, but using it in this particular place felt thoroughly inappropriate.

"We are nowhere near the point of worrying about that. Look over there—the five characters for 'Shrine of the Loyal and Patriotic of the Fengtian Army' are also written by him, and the epitaphs inside are the same. Ever since the days of the Old Marshal, our Northeast Army has never bothered with trivial conventions." Wang Yue's expression was serene, though he was inwardly offering a bitter smile. He had gone to great lengths and spared no effort to preserve this martyr cemetery.

The two inscriptions, "Shrine of the Loyal and Patriotic of the Fengtian Army" and "Eternal Glory to the Anti-Japanese Martyrs," had cost the price of two domestically manufactured 57mm mountain guns. The fifty-one epitaphs inside had cost fifty-one Degtyaryov light machine guns. Furthermore, that same man would publish a public eulogy in the New China Daily today—another 57mm mountain gun. Of course, these transactions were conducted directly with Zhang Wanhe, and the higher-ups likely remained unaware.

"Divisional Commander, are we going to join the Eighth Route Army?" Zhou Weiguo asked in a low voice. He still harbored a certain degree of reluctance toward joining the Eighth Route Army; after all, he was a graduate of the 6th phase of the Whampoa Military Academy—even if unvalued, he was still a direct disciple of the Generalissimo.

"We are not going to join the Eighth Route Army. The Provisional 2nd Division will always be the Northeast Army. The label we bear can never be shaken off. What is this, do you regret coming here?" Wang Yue watched the ashes of the martyrs being laid to rest, complex emotions churning in his heart. Given his identity, aligning with either side was impossible. In truth, even that prodigal son in Chongqing dared not heavily employ him; his father's standing within the Northeast Army had been in no way inferior to that of Zhang Xueliang back in the day.

"What is there to regret? If Divisional Commander had not taken me in, I doubt I would even have a place to secure a meal." Zhou Weiguo was equally conflicted. When the 6th phase of Whampoa enrolled, there were 4,400 students, yet only 718 ultimately graduated. As for the reasons why, it was a long story.

"Weiguo, you are a man of talent; you can make your way anywhere you go. Truth be told, it is my Provisional 2nd Division's good fortune to secure a fierce tiger like you. Otherwise, we truly wouldn't have much confidence when facing the Japanese devils." Sensing Zhou Weiguo's thoughts, Wang Yue's mind settled considerably. His subordinates had no shortage of loyalty and capability, but they lacked practical combat experience, especially experience in high-intensity, high-attrition battles. This was where Zhou Weiguo needed to step up and shoulder the heavy burden. That the commander of the 522nd Regiment of the 88th Division could find no unit willing to take him in was the sort of absurdity only the Nationalist army could pull off.

"Divisional Commander, do we have a mission?" Hearing Wang Yue's words, Zhou Weiguo's eyes instantly lit up. Ever since arriving in Qifeng County from Jiangcheng, he had worried about being shelved or losing the opportunity to fight the Japanese again. Although the Provisional 2nd Division nominally had over two thousand men, the only ones truly fully equipped were the fewer than three hundred men from the former Independent Detachment. The vast majority of the soldiers lacked training and equipment; it could hardly be regarded as a proper division.

To say nothing of anything else, simply solving the supply and equipment issues for a whole division was daunting. Who could say it wouldn't turn out to be yet another understrength puppet unit just making up the numbers? How would that ever afford him a chance to fight the Japanese?

"There is no combat mission just yet. If we want to fight the Japanese, we must first make up for our deficiencies in equipment and personnel. We won't be able to actively seek out combat opportunities until next spring at the earliest. What interests me more is small-unit operations—using the minimum number of troops and the fewest personnel to achieve the maximum victory." Wang Yue had never dared to underestimate the Japanese devils of 1938. Even though the elite Japanese forces had suffered heavy losses during the Battle of Jiangcheng, they were still not opponents he could easily crush.

Take the period they had spent keeping a low profile in Qifeng County, for instance. Just as the government upgraded Qifeng Town into a county, the Japanese Army Aviation dispatched bombers for a frenzied round of carpet bombing. They had indeed managed to destroy an anti-aircraft machine gun position, causing one casualty.

"If you are willing to support it, I can attempt to assemble such a small unit. However, our greatest bottlenecks remain intelligence and troop projection capabilities. Without these, it is difficult to maximize our effectiveness." Zhou Weiguo hesitated slightly. He had considered the possibility of creating trouble in the Japanese mainland if the opportunity arose, but under current conditions, that was utterly impossible. Although the government had begun preparing for war a decade ago, its intelligence work regarding the Japanese mainland had been perfunctory at best. The Ministry of Military and Political Affairs lacked even a single large-scale military map. Of course, fine domestic military maps were equally nonexistent on their side.

"That is not a problem. I will give you my full support. The actual strength of the Provisional 2nd Division goes far beyond what you have seen so far. Defeating the Japanese invaders independently is impossible, but making our contribution is certainly not a problem." Wang Yue smiled. The issues worrying Zhou Weiguo could still be resolved on his end, and the resources he could provide far exceeded the other man's imagination.

"Divisional Commander, please rest assured. This subordinate will give his utmost—success or die trying!" Zhou Weiguo felt that regardless of whether the promises were entirely true, the emphasis placed on his role was genuine. Special operations could be conducted in multiple ways; even without favorable conditions, they could be created bit by bit.

At that moment, the ceremonial guns sounded in the distance. Although today's funeral ceremony was somewhat hasty and perhaps unorthodox, Wang Yue had done everything within his power to ensure it was conducted with the utmost honor and mourning. Perhaps this was the definition of ultimate tribute. Didn't those captive soldiers attending the funeral look as though they were barely holding back their emotions?

Fifty-one individuals were laid to rest today: forty-seven who sacrificed their lives at Laojun Temple, three during counter-intelligence operations in Jiangcheng, and one who died in the Japanese bombing of Qifeng County. Among them, forty-six were turned-over captive soldiers. From the Northeast Army to the puppet army, they had witnessed an abundance of death, yet never once had they seen anything like this—so full of honor. Looking at the scene before them, those who had previously harbored zero hope for the future suddenly felt an impulse to march toward death without hesitation.