Chapter 20: Please

Many brothers, before they died, would entrust me with the care of their families. Every single time, I would pat my chest and give them my word. Even though I knew that in such chaotic and war-torn times, I was essentially incapable of keeping that promise. But whenever I made those vows, my expression and tone remained resolute; what else could I do? Should I let my brothers die with both resignation and resentment, constantly looking back over their shoulders on the road to the afterlife? Regardless, throughout my long military career, I don't know how many people I made that promise to, but those I could truly help were few and far between...

— Excerpt from Hu Biao's collection, "Hu Says" —

Facing Hu Biao's question, "Everyone, what are your plans now?" Wang Peng, Zhou Kun, and the other three could naturally discern the underlying implications; they could clearly see that Hu Biao intended to hold Position No. 7 to the death.

As they considered their choices, they each fell into a daze. If they chose to flee, it meant they could head to the Shanghai International Settlement, a paradise of glitz and glamour. Even if they wanted to contribute to the war effort, with the scientific and historical knowledge they possessed, they could certainly play a much larger role. If they stayed, they would be entering a hell that functioned like a meat grinder; they would likely die in the very next battle. Thinking it through, the choice seemed self-evident.

Thus, after a silence of several dozen seconds, the middle-aged, oily-faced man Gao Yi was the first to speak:

"In the modern world, I’ve been tightening my belt for over thirteen years to pay off a mortgage. I have to struggle with myself for a long time just to buy a decent pack of cigarettes. I only have a year or so left to pay off my debts; I’ve finally made it through. I was planning to buy all the fishing rods and bracelets I’d been eyeing once I was free. But if I die here, knowing my wife, she’ll definitely remarry and take the kids. By then, some other man might be living in my house, sleeping in my bed, and hitting my kids. Damn it! Just thinking about it makes me unwilling to go..."

Hearing this, Hu Biao, as a man, felt an inexplicable ache and interrupted Gao Yi. He said sincerely, "Old Gao, you don’t need to say more. I understand your choice, and I fully respect it."

Hu Biao wasn't just saying that; he truly understood and respected Gao Yi's position. But Gao Yi glared at him fiercely and cursed:

"What the hell do you know? That’s assuming I can even get back! I’ve realized over the past few days that there’s no going back to the modern world. If that’s the case, what the hell am I afraid of? I’m staying here to fight the Japs and avenge our old squad leader and our brothers."

Good heavens! This sudden change in Gao Yi's stance left Hu Biao speechless. While Hu Biao was stunned, Wang Peng stated his own decision. The man frowned, used a strip of cloth torn from his shirttail to wrap his scalded palm, and said with a swagger:

"It’s not just you, Hu Biao, who is a real man with the guts to fight the Japs head-on. 'When the call to arms sounds, I will return'—that’s for me. In my eyes, you’re still just a civilian; how could I, a PLA veteran, run away while leaving you to hold the position?"

Zhang Wei chimed in: "Damn it! You still don't understand me. When I, Brother Wei, go out into the world, my main principle is loyalty and standing by my brothers. Even though you lot are a bunch of losers, you're still my brothers. I'm not going to run away alone. Count me in for staying to fight the Japs."

By now, four out of the five-man group from the modern era had expressed their determination and attitude to stay on the front line and fight the Japanese to the death. Only Zhou Kun hung his head, as if he hadn't yet recovered from the intensity of the moment.

Seeing this, Hu Biao patted Zhou Kun’s shoulder and said softly, "Old Zhou, if you want to leave, then go. You look like a scholar; you have more scientific and cultural knowledge than the rest of us, so you can do more good if you stay alive. If the four of us die here, just remember to burn some paper money for us during the holidays so we don't end up as paupers in the afterlife."

After being patted on the shoulder, Zhou Kun finally reacted. He raised his head with a bitter smile and delivered a series of facts that left everyone dumbfounded:

"Guys, I think I know why I came to this world. Before the old squad leader died, he told me his hometown was in Zhoujia Pu, outside Weinan City in Shaanxi Province. Besides his wife, he had a son. He had him late in life; the boy was only two years old, named Zhou Zhiguo. He was the only bloodline the Zhou family had, and he entrusted us to help look after him."

If the information above wasn't shocking enough, what followed carried even more weight:

"Zhou Zhiguo is my grandfather's name. Our family's hometown is indeed Zhoujia Pu, outside Weinan City in Shaanxi. When I was a kid, he told me many times that his father died on the Songhu battlefield when he was just over two years old. It was only thanks to his father's comrades-in-arms helping out that he was able to grow up in those chaotic times and even get an education. Otherwise, he and his widowed mother would have starved to death long ago. Because of this, my grandfather hated the Japs his whole life and loved this country deeply. Before I crossed over, I had a huge fight with him because I didn't want to come back to work in China. I suppose that’s the reason I ended up here. The old squad leader is, by all accounts, my great-grandfather—the real deal."

Upon hearing this, Hu Biao and the others were utterly stunned. At least a minute passed before Wang Peng weakly offered a suggestion: "Those people who helped and looked after your grandfather... they wouldn't happen to be us, would they? If we all die here, wouldn't that create some kind of 'time paradox'? Could your family's generations in the modern world disappear because your grandfather starved to death as a child? Maybe you should leave, Old Zhou, and go adopt your own great-grandfather?"

"I'm not leaving! If I don't avenge my great-grandfather, who will? You?" Zhou Kun said, gritting his teeth, losing all the refinement of a PhD.

*******

With all five having decided to stay, things became simple: it was now a matter of how to hold Position No. 7, or at least kill as many Japanese soldiers as possible before they died.

They crouched low and moved through the trenches, searching for usable weapons, ammunition, and supplies. Before long, everything that could be used was gathered. After taking stock, the situation was not optimistic:

They had one Czech light machine gun with only 27 rounds of 7.62mm pointed-tip ammunition. There were two P28 submachine guns, but they couldn't even fill a single 20-round magazine with the 9mm ammo they had. There were plenty of Hanyang-88 rifles—41 in total—but they only had 36 rounds of 7.62mm round-tip ammunition to go around. As for grenades and explosive charges, there were none.

Looking at the limited supplies, the five felt a deep sense of unease. They couldn't even sustain a single battle; were they expected to fight the Japanese with bayonets?

As for going out to clean the battlefield and scavenge weapons from the Japanese corpses? Forget it. The Japanese had retreated, yes, but the artillery bombardment was continuous. Furthermore, those bastards knew they had no artillery or even a single functioning heavy machine gun on their position to threaten them, so they had pulled back to a point over 400 meters away. With the marksmanship of the Japanese veterans, venturing out to scavenge would only make them target practice.

Perhaps once it got completely dark, they could sneak out to scavenge; after all, since the afternoon, a thick layer of dark clouds had covered the sky, so the night should be very dark. But no one knew when the Japanese would attack again, or if they could even hold out until nightfall.

Oh, right! Hu Biao and the others also found Young Master Feng's camera bag in the company headquarters—a large dugout reinforced with logs. But that thing was of no use now.

Facing the dire situation, Wang Peng, determined to avenge his great-grandfather, looked at Wang Peng and asked earnestly, "Old Wang, aren't you a PLA veteran? You’re the only professional among us. Quickly, think of a way to boost our combat effectiveness. I’m not afraid of dying; I’m afraid of not taking down a few more Japs before I do."

Hearing Zhou Kun's request, Wang Peng felt like he had just been insulted by a husky. He was indeed a legitimate PLA veteran, but even the best cook cannot make a meal without rice. With no troops and no weapons or ammo, what was he supposed to conjure up?

Still, he looked around, trying to find a solution—if not for anything else, then for the chance to take a few more Japanese soldiers with him when he died. And, believe it or not, when his eyes landed on a certain spot, they suddenly lit up...