Chapter 29: Rainbow

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"...Ever since the battle at Position Seven, that fierce day-and-night engagement in the pouring rain, my body—or perhaps my mind—has been afflicted by a strange ailment for a very long time.

"Whenever I encounter a day of heavy rain, even if I am indoors and it is the height of a sweltering summer, I always feel an icy chill seeping continuously through the cracks between my bones. My whole body grows cold despite myself, and the discomfort is impossible to describe.

"Even so, I still consider myself fortunate. Compared with the brothers who died in battle, at least I am still alive.

"...Excerpted from Hu Biao's collected diaries, Nonsense..."

At 9:38 in the morning, Gao Yi was controlling the Little Bean tank, turning it from side to side, when he suddenly discovered in horror that the machine's engine had sputtered and died.

For the next two or three seconds, no matter how he tried to restart it, the thing gave no response at all.

Whether it had run out of fuel after prolonged use, whether the engine had malfunctioned, or whether something else had gone wrong, Gao Yi had no time to investigate.

Because before the Little Bean stalled, he had seen something through the observation slit.

On the left, a bare-chested Japanese soldier was rushing toward them, clutching a bundle of explosives and screaming. But after the Little Bean's engine died, Zhang Wei had no angle from which to shoot him.

If they did not act immediately, the enemy would reach the tank.

Gao Yi gritted his teeth and opened one of the hatches overhead.

As he thrust half his body out, his right hand drew a Type 94 semi-automatic pistol—a weapon captured from the corpse of the Japanese tank commander—and opened fire on the Japanese soldier seven or eight meters away.

It should be mentioned that they had also captured a Type 14 Nambu pistol from the enemy tank crew.

But remembering the saying that the Nambu was so useless it could barely kill a chicken, Gao Yi had chosen the Type 94 instead.

Though the Type 94 looked hideous as well, he had assumed it could not possibly be that bad.

Yet now that he had opened fire, he could not tell whether the problem lay in the terrible marksmanship of a novice like himself or in the weapon's poor accuracy.

In any case, after several shots, he finally hit the Japanese soldier with the third round.

A spray of blood burst from the man's belly, but even after being shot, he gritted his teeth and continued charging forward. Fortunately, Gao Yi's next two bullets struck him in the chest and abdomen.

Only after landing three consecutive hits did he finally knock the threat to the ground.

Gao Yi immediately ducked back inside the tank. Bullets had been whizzing past him in every direction, and the sound alone was terrifying.

He had the heavy rain to thank for obscuring the Japanese soldiers' vision. Under normal conditions, he would have been shot in the head long ago.

Even though Gao Yi had moved as quickly as he could, he was still too slow.

A bullet from an unknown direction tore through his neck. In an instant, it felt as though all the strength in his body were rushing out through the wound.

After collapsing into the driver's seat, Gao Yi did not clamp his hands over his wounded neck. Instead, he used all his remaining strength to cover his mouth.

He did not want his screams to distract Zhang Wei, who was firing furiously.

If that happened, both of them would die.

Two minutes later, Zhang Wei finally stopped firing his light machine gun at the retreating Japanese soldiers disappearing into the curtain of rain. He turned and began cursing Gao Yi.

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"Old Gao, you useless bastard! Do you even know how to drive a tank? If not, let me do it!

"That Japanese soldier nearly charged right up to us just now because of the firing angle. It was only because my shooting was sharp that I managed to kill him."

But after the rough-edged Zhang Wei finished his habitual tirade, he did not hear the middle-aged man's usual somewhat ingratiating explanation. At last, he sensed that something was wrong.

He hurried over and found that Gao Yi had completely stopped breathing.

"Those Japanese bastards! I'll screw their mothers!"

Zhang Wei slammed his fist into the steel interior wall of the tank. He struck with such force that the skin over his knuckles split, and blood began to flow.

But this hardened street tough no longer cared.

Only fragments of Gao Yi's words from their idle conversation during a lull in the fighting the previous night echoed through his mind.

For instance:

"You useless bastard! You're already a grown man. What's so great about fooling around out there? You might as well learn how to operate an excavator. Then maybe we'd be able to reconnect the track after it gets blown apart..."

******

Nearly two hours later, at 11:25, a crisp metallic click rang out from the Browning M1900 pistol in Hu Biao's hand.

At that sound, Hu Biao's face—already pale from prolonged exposure to the rain and from being soaked in mud and water—turned even whiter, like a sheet of paper.

There was no other explanation. Once the Little Bean could no longer move, Hu Biao had deliberately reinforced the defensive fire on the tank's left side, its blind spot.

But only a handful of men remained on the position. They did not even have a single machine gun. How much could their firepower really be increased?

Just now, two Japanese soldiers had charged around the right side of the Little Bean with explosives in their arms. Hu Biao had fired all ten-odd rifles beside him empty and could only draw his pistol.

He killed one and wounded the other—then ran out of pistol ammunition.

There was no time to reload. He could only watch helplessly as the Japanese soldier shouted, "Banzai!" pulled the detonator on his explosive pack, and hurled himself onto the Little Bean.

Then the tank that had slaughtered countless Chinese soldiers over the course of that day and night—and even more Japanese tanks—erupted in a violent explosion.

Rivets and fragments of machinery flew in every direction. A tremendous shock wave struck, instantly hurling Hu Biao backward into the trench, where he landed sitting down and swallowed several mouthfuls of muddy water.

Ignoring the blood at the corner of his mouth and the tightness in his chest, Hu Biao braced himself against the trench and quickly rose to his feet.

At once, he saw dozens of Japanese soldiers charging through the curtain of rain, bayonets fixed, their faces filled with wild joy at finally destroying the Little Bean.

"Hand grenades!"

After shouting the warning, Hu Biao grabbed an explosive pack beside him, tore it open, and threw it with every ounce of strength he possessed.

The explosive packs had naturally been recovered from the corpses of the Japanese suicide troops.

Unfortunately, most had already been used as improvised land mines. This was the only one left on the position.

Immediately after throwing it, he crouched down in the muddy trench. But the astonishing blast left his chest and abdomen in even greater agony.

After trying two or three times, Hu Biao finally struggled upright. Almost all of the Japanese soldiers who had charged the position had been knocked down, while a group farther away, realizing that the situation was unfavorable, retreated once more.

Only then did an immense fatigue sweep over Hu Biao. He seemed barely strong enough to remain standing.

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He pitched forward into the muddy water. Mud streamed into his nose and mouth, yet he could not summon the strength to pull himself back up.

Just as he was about to choke to death, an arm seized him by the collar and dragged him out of the mud.

After coughing for a long while, Hu Biao looked up and saw a transport soldier named Song Yi.

Before Hu Biao could thank him, Song Yi was already crying.

"Commander Hu, only the two of us are left on the position. All the other brothers are dead."

Apart from an indescribable sense of regret, Hu Biao found that he could actually accept the outcome before him.

He forced out a smile uglier than a sob and said calmly to Song Yi:

"Brother, do me a favor. Drag me back onto the position, then find an explosive pack on one of the Japanese corpses and bring it to me. After that, withdraw. If the other commanders give you trouble, tell them it was my order."

Song Yi hesitated, but his commander had already roared:

"Carry out the order!"

At 1:55 in the afternoon, Hu Biao entered his final moments.

Anyone who has often come close to death knows this: when a person is about to die, Hu Biao's state of mind became strangely vivid.

Under those circumstances, he could perceive an extraordinary number of details around him.

For example, the bodies of the Chinese soldiers and the Japanese soldiers nearby had swollen and deformed after being washed and soaked by the rain for so long.

And the rain, which had fallen for nearly an entire day and night, was finally beginning to weaken.

It would probably stop soon. Then the Japanese would launch another attack, and the position would be completely overrun.

But perhaps that was for the best. Hu Biao did not know how much longer he could hold on. If this continued, he would die before the Japanese even reached the position.

After a while, Hu Biao could no longer open his eyes. Fortunately, he could still hear footsteps approaching.

With a strange sense of relief, and regret that he would never again be able to go to Moonrise House and have a drink with Annie, that woman, Hu Biao pulled at the explosive pack in his hand.

Damn it! The pack would not detonate. Someone had seized the hand with which he was pulling the fuse and was gripping it tightly.

Fortunately, he soon heard a somewhat familiar voice.

"Commander Hu, it's me, Zhu Cong. The battle at Luodian is over. The attacking forces still couldn't take it. Division Commander Li has ordered all units to withdraw to Xiaotangzi and reorganize the defensive line. That includes our Special Service Company."

Upon hearing this, Hu Biao lost what little strength remained in him and released the explosive pack.

He let himself be dragged backward by Zhu Cong like a heap of dead flesh.

After being hauled more than ten meters, he finally managed to open his eyes for a brief moment. He saw that the rain had at last stopped.

A golden sun hung in the sky.

Near the horizon, a rainbow had even appeared. Hu Biao could swear that it was the most beautiful rainbow he had ever seen in his life.

Then a tide of weariness swept over him. His vision went black, and he lost all consciousness.