Chapter 52: The Nationalist Retreat Marathon

These three boats were hidden away by the previous troops in advance; otherwise, they wouldn't even have been able to find a vessel capable of crossing the river.

The assault team was led by Yang Gang, and the artillerymen on the opposite bank were already prepared, waiting only for the signal to begin the attack before raining fire across the river.

There were nine mortars and one 37mm infantry gun deployed among the trees during daylight hours, with their firing coordinates pre-adjusted specifically to bombard the enemy's machine-gun nests and garrison camps on the opposite shore.

Wen Song's confidence had been growing steadily because he had plenty of artillery at his disposal, and several regimental commanders frequently came over to ingratiate themselves with him.

The reason was simple: they were counting on Wen Song to unleash a couple of extra rounds of artillery support for them during battles against the enemy.

Aside from Wen Song's forces, machine-gun positions and sniper positions had also been deployed along the riverbank overnight.

They were primarily responsible for maintaining continuous suppressive fire.

Beneath the rushing currents of the river, the three boats had already set off.

The boatmen steering the vessels were seasoned locals who initially flatly refused when told they had to cross the river in such weather, claiming it was courting death.

Later, after being promised a small gold bar each, they declared that a little hardship in wind and rain was nothing to speak of.

Long Wencheng gazed anxiously toward the middle of the river, though in reality nothing could be seen except the intertwined curtain of rain and darkness.

The boat carrying Yang Gang was spinning within a vortex, yet the veteran boatman at the bow maintained a completely calm expression, quickly guiding them out of the whirlpool.

"Commander Yang, you guys are in luck. It takes veteran boatmen like us; otherwise, in this weather, anyone else crossing would surely die."

Once they cleared the vortex, the old boatman began to boast to Yang Gang.

After a few more harrowing close calls, the three boats finally managed to reach the shore one after another.

Without a word, the ninety commandos utilized the cover of night to charge toward the enemy camp on the opposite bank.

By this time, the Fourth Security Brigade had already fallen asleep amidst the dark night.

Only a few machine-gun positions along the river still had soldiers stationed at them.

Brigade Commander Tong Siyi, who had just finished inspecting the river defenses, was escorted by his soldiers to a horse-drawn carriage parked nearby.

He did not live here, but rather in a town further back, where a landowner with some family connections had lent him a place to stay, complete with a tender, rosy-cheeked maid to warm his bed.

He was in high spirits now, having just composed two rather fine poems, and failed to notice that as his carriage departed, a group of soldiers lay hidden in the bushes on both sides of the road.

Once the carriage had left, these Red Army soldiers, led by Yang Gang, crossed the road and continued their charge toward the enemy encampment along the river.

Five minutes later, the soldiers were divided into dozens of three-man squads, beginning to approach the rows of barracks.

As for the few outlying sentries, their throats had already been slit.

Finally, a signal flare soared into the sky, serving as the signal for coordinated action.

Almost simultaneously, grenades were tossed one after another into the barracks.

"Boom, boom, boom!"

Explosions rang out one after another, and the soldiers skillfully raised the submachine guns in their hands, unleashing a hail of fire upon the enemy inside the barracks.

Meanwhile, at the artillery position on the opposite bank, Wen Song also let out a roar, and mortar shells soared through the air, crashing down upon the enemy machine-gun nests across the river.

"Boom, boom, boom!"

The sound of explosions echoed continuously, and in the blink of an eye, several machine-gun nests were directly wiped out.

The sudden attack, fierce explosions, and dense gunfire caught the enemy on the opposite shore completely off guard.

The regiment stationed here had never imagined that the enemy would cross the river to launch a surprise attack on such a stormy night, and they were utterly unprepared.

The regimental commander was quite shrewd; he ordered his men to hold the line while he took his guards company to the rear town to request reinforcements.

Yet, even with a commander watching, those soldiers couldn't hold the line, let alone now when nobody was watching—consequently, they ended up running even faster than the commander.

Tong Siyi, currently hurrying toward the town, heard the explosions and gunfire from behind and realized something was terribly wrong.

"It's bad, the Red Army has attacked," the adjutant said from the side.

Holding his binoculars and looking at the flashes of the explosions, Tong Siyi muttered under his breath, "Could the Red Army really have grown wings?"

"Brigade Commander, what should we do?" shouted the adjutant beside him.

"Need you ask? Head back and bring reinforcements!"

With that, Tong Siyi urged the carriage to continue speeding toward the town.

However, when he reached the town, he discovered that the regiment stationed here had already vanished without a trace.

This couldn't entirely be blamed on them; the garrison regimental commander left behind had heard the explosions and rushed out to find Brigade Commander Tong Siyi, only to discover the brigade commander was nowhere to be found.

He slapped his forehead and cursed fiercely, "That son of a bitch Tong Siyi actually ran even faster than me!"

Without a second thought, this regimental commander also immediately fled with his men.

Seeing that everyone had run off, Tong Siyi thought, I'll run too.

Yang Gang and his soldiers had originally prepared themselves for a fight to the death, as the second wave of crossing troops would take at least an hour to arrive with reinforcements.

To their surprise, these provincial forces proved utterly fragile, collapsing entirely and fleeing a thousand miles after suffering just a few hundred casualties.

Daring not to waste time, Yang Gang ordered thirty soldiers to remain behind to establish defenses, while leading the remaining fifty-odd troops to push deep inland and seize the commanding heights ahead.

That way, even if enemy reinforcements counterattacked, they would still be able to mount a defense for a while.

As long as subsequent reinforcements arrived successively, this river-crossing operation would be virtually guaranteed to succeed.

Yet Yang Gang and his men spent the entire night enduring the cold rain on the mountaintop, their lips turning purple from the cold, and by dawn, not a single enemy reinforcement had appeared.

Though he knew these provincial troops had relatively poor combat effectiveness, Yang Gang never expected them to be this abysmal.

By daytime, the rain gradually subsided, and the river currents grew calmer.

The boats that the enemy had previously collected on the north bank were also retrieved to the south bank.

The troops completed the river crossing in just a single day, and by then, the vanguard forces led by Qi Delong had already advanced twenty kilometers out.

Taking stock of the captured equipment yielded 4 Maxim heavy machine guns, 10 ZB vz. 26 light machine guns, and two native cannons—though Wen Song sneered at the native cannons and refused to spare them a second glance.

Around a hundred mules and horses that had been abandoned were also left behind here.

The most crucial loot was a map of Western Sichuan. Although this unit had originally been stationed in the Western Sichuan region and the map wasn't entirely comprehensive, it was more than sufficient for use.

After resting here for a night, they set off again amidst the rain, with their offensive target set on Butuo County.

On the very morning that Long Wencheng led his main force in forcibly crossing the Jinsha River, the map he had dispatched finally arrived in Qujing.

The Central Red Army stationed there was currently deliberating their next move, and upon seeing this map, everything instantly fell into place.

Without a map, every step is difficult; with a map, everything becomes manageable.

A plan was swiftly formulated, and they dispatched a force to launch a feint attack on Kunming.