ILSITM Chapter 53

With the first shot, I hit the auxiliary fuel tank under the reconnaissance plane’s left wing, causing it to immediately leak fuel.

With the second shot, I hit the auxiliary fuel tank under the reconnaissance plane’s right wing, and it also started leaking fuel after being pierced.

With the third shot, I aimed for the middle position between the reconnaissance plane’s cockpit and tail engine compartment, and the main fuel tank instantly caught fire.

The reconnaissance plane quickly lost control and plunged headfirst into the mountain, making a loud “bang.”

Everyone applauded and cheered.

“Our company commander is still the best, every shot is fatal!”

“Taking down a plane with three bullets, our guerrilla captain is amazing!”

“When the Japanese reconnaissance planes come, our company commander will make sure they never return, hahaha…”

Usually, I teach everyone how to practice standing, kneeling, and prone positions for holding, aiming, and firing. Some guerrilla fighters might have thought I was all talk and no action. Today, I showed them my live-fire shooting skills. They couldn’t stop praising me.

Wen Rourou’s father and I stood opposite them. I didn’t stop them from talking in the ranks, just exchanged a smile with Wen Rourou’s father.

These few shots did show the might of our guerrilla force. It’s not a bad thing to make everyone proud. It boosts our morale and diminishes the Japanese’s arrogance. We can’t let those regular army soldiers underestimate us.

The next day, before dawn, after eating an early breakfast, I led twenty guerrilla fighters down the mountain.

They each carried rifles or bows and arrows.

By the time it was just getting light, we had reached the ambush site.

Opposite us was a village road that the Japanese devils were sure to sweep through.

On both sides of the village road were slightly elevated thickets.

Ten snipers were ambushed on one side of the thickets, and I and ten archers were hidden on the other side.

Around eight o’clock in the morning, a group of people came.

There were nearly thirty puppet troops in front, and more than fifty Japanese devils behind.

I made a gesture to the archers beside me. They immediately rose from the thickets, knelt on one knee, and nocked their arrows.

“Swish, swish, swish…”

Ten sharp arrows pierced the “butt flaps” of the last ten Japanese devils, all hitting the temple on one side of their heads.

Then, before the Japanese devils in front could react, the archers nocked another arrow and drew their bows fully.

What are “butt flaps”? “Butt flaps” are the two pieces of cloth hanging down from the sides of the cloth hats worn by Japanese soldiers.

Why do Japanese soldiers like to wear cloth hats with “butt flaps”?

In Southeast Asian regions such as southern China, Myanmar, Cambodia, and Vietnam, the climate is humid and hot, and mosquitoes are rampant, easily breeding and spreading diseases. When Japan fought in these areas, the non-combat attrition of soldiers due to mosquito bites actually exceeded the casualties in combat. Therefore, the Japanese army sewed two “butt flaps” onto their military caps.

When the “butt flaps” swing, they can repel mosquitoes, prevent the spread of disease, and reduce non-combat attrition.

It is said that these “butt flaps” reduced Japanese casualties by nearly 100,000 during World War II.

“Swish, swish, swish…”

Another ten sharp arrows pierced the “butt flaps” of ten Japanese devils, hitting the temple on one side of their heads.

“Baga yarou,” a Japanese devil who looked like a commander picked up his gun and ordered the Japanese devils and puppet troops around him to fire at us.

At this time, I and the ten archers were already lying in the thickets.

When these Japanese devils and puppet troops turned around and fired at us, the ten snipers ambushed opposite us began their “performance.”

They aimed and shot at the Japanese devils who were facing away from them.

“Bang, bang, bang…”

Their shots were deadly accurate.

“Bang, bang, bang…”

Before the Japanese devils and puppet troops facing away from them could react, another ten Japanese devils fell to the ground.

“Baga yarou,” the Japanese devil commander cursed angrily while turning around again to shoot at the snipers opposite us.

Then, the Japanese devils and puppet troops around this commander also turned around and fired at our opposite side.

I and the archers lying in the thickets immediately stood up.

I raised my gun and aimed at the back of the head of the Japanese devil commander who was facing away from me. With a “bang,” he died from the bullet.

The archers beside me knelt on one knee, nocked their arrows, and drew their bows.

“Swish, swish, swish…”

Ten sharp arrows hit the back of the heads of ten Japanese devils.

In an instant, all the Japanese devils were wiped out by us.

When the puppet troops saw that the Japanese devil commander had been killed in battle, they all raised their hands and surrendered.

In this battle, we defeated an enemy four times our size with the fewest troops, mainly because of my good tactical application and the well-chosen ambush site.

Our farm guerrilla team is short of guns and ammunition. One mortar, forty or fifty guns, and nearly three hundred bullets are all we have.

In this raid, I and the ten snipers each brought only ten bullets; each archer also brought only ten arrows.

When cleaning the battlefield, we inventoried today’s spoils: two Type 92 heavy machine guns, more than two hundred rounds of ammunition; four Type 11 light machine guns, more than four hundred rounds of ammunition; two Type 14 pistols, more than fifty rounds of ammunition; more than eighty Type 38 rifles equipped with bayonets, more than two thousand rounds of ammunition.

After unloading all the bullets from the captured guns, I ordered the puppet troop prisoners to carry the guns and ammunition separately.

On the way back to the farm, we encountered dozens of children from the village, who knelt on the village road and asked to join our guerrilla team.

I looked at these thirteen- or fourteen-year-old children, and I didn’t know whether to accept them or not.

“Please accept us, we have nowhere to go. The Nationalists want to conscript soldiers, the puppet troops want to conscript soldiers, and the Japanese devils also want to conscript soldiers when they sweep through our village,” the children cried.

“Company commander, accept them!”

“Company commander, if we don’t accept them, it would be terrible if they were conscripted by the Japanese devils!”

The guerrilla fighters beside me said one after another.

“Okay, children, I will accept you,” I said as I helped the kneeling children up one by one.

There are no secrets in the world.

The stories of me and the farm guerrilla team spread everywhere: wiping out the bandit den in one fell swoop, shooting down a Japanese devil reconnaissance plane with three shots, annihilating a well-equipped Japanese devil squad, incorporating a puppet troop platoon, and developing nearly a thousand guerrilla fighters in three months.

As of yesterday, our farm’s guerrilla fighters had exceeded one thousand.

I built four more two-story barracks.

During this period, I had upgraded the farm guerrilla company to a farm guerrilla battalion, and I was promoted to battalion commander. Wen Rourou’s father was promoted to political instructor.

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