Chapter 1438: Temporary Respite

Matters naturally did not exceed Wang Yan's expectations; after he led his troops south, although the Japanese forces there had established defenses based on prior experiences, those defenses remained insufficient, allowing Wang Yan to inflict severe damage at minimal cost and seize substantial military supplies.

While the infuriated Japanese forces redeployed, Wang Yan struck back north, setting an ambush in a mountain hollow and annihilating a battalion-sized reinforcement unit.

Afterwards, he marched south again toward the southeast, then shifted southwest, and subsequently raced northeast.

Thus he moved ghostlike within a two-hundred-kilometer radius, mostly engaging with superior numbers against inferior ones; at most, he faced a single battalion, but more often, he targeted scattered small squads.

Wang Yan's battlefield intuition and acuity were peaked to the absolute limit; even when the Japanese set bait, laid ambushes, attempted to teach him jungle warfare, or mined forest areas, none of it proved particularly effective.

Because their various countermeasures largely fell within Wang Yan's comprehensive considerations, and through the course of confrontation he familiarized himself with the thinking of Japanese commanders; after several rounds of back-and-forth fighting, synthesizing all known information, he could roughly grasp his opponent's intentions—his movements north, then south, then north again, then south again constituted a psychological game against the enemy.

Once Wang Yan felt the time was right, he would vanish into the distance, sprinting over a hundred kilometers away, rendering all ambushes and traps futile since he simply refused to engage.

The reason he could fight this way was primarily that he bore no burdens; his greatest burden was casualties, and beyond that, he held no positions to defend nor any mandatory objectives to fulfill—he only needed to kill the Japanese devils.

Therefore, he could come and go as he pleased, disregarding everything else.

But the Japanese could not; they had detailed strategic plans, with troop deployments at every location carefully deliberated, so they could never fully concentrate on dealing with the force led by Wang Yan.

Yet the damage inflicted by Wang Yan's unit was far from trivial; every sortie caused at least a bone crack to the Japanese forces in Burma, while broken bones were commonplace in severe cases, and sometimes they even lost entire limbs.

This forced the Japanese to divert attention to respond, yet they could not effectively counter him, always failing to catch him and unable to inflict greater casualties on Wang Yan's troops, truly feeling like a fishbone stuck in the throat, like thorns piercing the back, like sitting on a bed of needles.

Precisely because the Japanese diverted attention to deal with Wang Yan's unit, their assault against the Allied forces inevitably became distorted; significant troop numbers were drawn away by Wang Yan, leaving some locations weakly defended, which allowed the Allies to seize opportunities and tear open breaches.

Artillery shells bombed, tanks roared, warplanes droned, Japanese and Allied soldiers shouted, and the Allies began expanding their operational scope; although still unable to defeat the Japanese, the situation here suddenly escalated, at least ending the previous scenario where the Allies merely endured beatings, now enabling them to fight back.

Influenced by developments here, the Japanese were compelled to dispatch additional troops from Thailand for support; since forces in northern Burma were pinned along the Nu River studying river-crossing invasions into Yunnan, and considerable western forces were pinned against India attempting to push through, the Japanese could only draw troops from nearby Thailand, where campaigns were proceeding relatively smoothly.

Just then, Wang Yan struck into northern Burma, stirring Japanese redeployments; consequently, the Allied forces and Expeditionary Force holed up in India, along with the Expeditionary Force in western Yunnan, seized the opportunity to advance tens of thousands of troops into northern Burma once more.

The entire situation in Burma instantly intensified again.

Northern Burma was especially fierce, with the Allies and Expeditionary Force attacking from north to south while Wang Yan led the Sichuan Regiment in sabotage behind Japanese lines, causing tremendous destructive impact.

His combat achievements were no worse than those of the Allies and Expeditionary Force fighting desperately at the front combined, because Wang Yan fought wars of annihilation, using superior numbers against inferior ones, executing complete encirclements, and leaving none alive.

Frontline large-scale corps engagements differed entirely, emphasizing overall frontline confrontation and tight coordination among various nodes, prohibiting isolated deep penetrations or pursuit of routed enemies, aiming instead for victory across the entire battlefield.

This represented a completely different strategic approach from Wang Yan's isolated force.

Yet Wang Yan's achievements truly blinded people's eyes, routinely eliminating enemies by the thousands, almost resembling a divine drama; however, in reality, the number of local Burmese within Wang Yan's ranks began increasing while the overall troop strength remained largely unchanged...

Two months later, by autumn of 1942, Wang Yan finally fulfilled his earlier promise, arriving at the Allied command headquarters in northern Burma with the remaining two hundred-plus foreign devils.

A force of over four thousand men emerged laughing and chatting from the jungle, spotting from afar a command post constructed at the jungle's edge within a plain area.

Two rows of soldiers stood solemnly along the road before the command post: one row of foreign devils, the other row of Expeditionary Force warriors.

This solemn scene inadvertently caused the originally giggling Sichuan Regiment soldiers to restrain their smiles, each subconsciously straightening their posture and puffing out their chests.

"Salute!"

Accompanied by shouts in both Chinese and English, the solemn soldiers rendered their respective national military salutes.

Wang Yan smiled and shouted loudly, "Brothers, we can finally enjoy a few good days."

He led the way, finally meeting friendly forces and receiving courteous treatment; the Sichuan Regiment brothers felt immensely proud due to their awesome achievements, while the recently joined local Burmese and the surviving Thais felt nothing special, having followed Wang Yan solely to kill Japanese and avenge themselves.

The most intense reactions came from the remaining two hundred-plus foreign devils.

When Wang Yan rescued them from the concentration camp, there were nearly five hundred; after fighting alongside him for over three months, only slightly more than two hundred remained.

John and William, the two Britons Wang Yan knew relatively well, along with Thompson, the American—all three foreign devils survived, demonstrating rather tenacious vitality and considerable luck.

Although now severely emaciated and in relatively poor mental condition, they at least lacked missing limbs or broken bones and had not contracted any diseases impossible to treat under current conditions.

Now finally arriving here and reconnecting with their own people, quite a few among them genuinely burst into tears.

Life alongside Wang Yan was simply inhuman; every day involved either marching or fighting, with never even two days spent staying in one location, and even when staying two days, they were still fighting...

Wang Yan glanced at John beside him, whose eyes were already blurred with tears, listened to the weeping sounds filling his ears and the mockery from his own brothers, and couldn't help shaking his head.

His subordinates were simply too poor, having never experienced proper human life; fighting alongside him had become enjoyment for them—they were truly a group who had transcended vulgar interests, enjoying only the pleasure of killing Japanese devils.

He still had much to do...

"Wang Yan, is it?"

As Wang Yan led his team forward, a middle-aged man wearing glasses, with a round face, crew cut, and somewhat portly figure, actively stepped forward two paces and shook Wang Yan's hand with both hands.

"I am Luo Zhuoying; I have long heard of your legends. That we could achieve today's situation in Burma is largely due to your merit; you can be said to have single-handedly reversed the Burmese battlefield situation—a true hero! You and your brothers are all exemplary, truly fine sons of our China."

Wang Yan nodded with a smile: "Excuse me, let me ask, what official position do you hold?"

"This is our Expeditionary Force Commander!" an officer standing beside Luo Zhuoying spoke, displaying considerable dissatisfaction toward Wang Yan's attitude.

"He is the commander, you are not; what makes you so arrogant here? Who do you think you are?"

"You..."

"Enough." Luo Zhuoying waved his hand, stopping that person's words, and said smilingly to Wang Yan, "We are all on the same side; don't be so fiery-tempered. We can discuss any matters later. Come, let me introduce you: this is the Allied Regional Commander, Stilwell, an American, specifically responsible for our theater's operations."

"Hello, Stilwell, nice to meet you," Wang Yan greeted very politely.

"Oh, wonderful, Wang, you also speak English; our communication will be much more convenient."

Stilwell was in his fifties, wearing black-rimmed glasses and sporting a meticulously groomed pompadour.

Shaking Wang Yan's hand, he said, "It's simply unbelievable that you managed to annihilate so many Japanese with these men and such equipment."

"Thompson, come here."

Wang Yan beckoned, put his arm around Thompson's shoulder, and looked at the perplexed Stilwell: "He and that John mentioned that you would provide us with weapons, food, and medicine; additionally, we contacted the Allied forces in western Burma, who also made guarantees."

Stilwell nodded seriously: "Certainly, Wang, I am aware of this matter; without their promised weapons, ammunition, and other supplies, you would not have needed to take such enormous risks to achieve today's Burmese situation. You are the most courageous army on the Burmese battlefield; naturally, we must assist you in defeating those damned Japanese."

"Then we are truly grateful for your generosity; may I ask, Commander, when will the promised weapons, ammunition, food, and medicine reach our hands?"

"Within a month; they need to be transported from India. Perhaps you don't know, Wang, that the Japanese occupation of Southeast Asia and opening of the Pacific theater aimed precisely to break our supply routes and seize dominance over sea, land, and air. Currently, transporting supplies has become vastly more difficult; please bear with us patiently."

"Certainly; waiting isn't a bad thing. We have already fought for over half a year and are exhausted; we need proper rest."

"Wang, we have arranged food, new clothes and shoes, and boiled hot water for your soldiers to bathe; please rest well."

Thus Stilwell departed; Wang Yan exchanged greetings with Luo Zhuoying, then turned to follow Allied officers away to bathe, get haircuts, shave, and change into fresh clothing.

This time their uniforms changed again, becoming American military attire; previously, everyone had worn British-supplied sets, which after over half a year had long become filthy and tattered.

The refreshed group gathered together, eating the bread and canned goods provided by the foreign devils, laughing and teasing one another.

Wang Yan rubbed his newly shaved bald head, looked at the regimental doctor, and said with a smile, "I must say, old sir, after your touch-up, I look at least five years younger."

"Aiya, no way! Even if I were ten years younger, I'd still be a man half-buried in the grave."

"Oh my, you're not half-buried at all! Your life is so hardy; you've seen off so many comrades already."

Fan La was absolutely right; the regimental doctor was over fifty, specifically in charge of the wounded soldiers, had marched thousands of li with the unit, and was still lively and jumping around, which was truly extraordinary.

"As for fighting, this old man is no good, but if I couldn't even walk, what kind of soldier would I be?" The regimental doctor said cheerfully, happily eating meat from a can.

Wang Yan said, "Old sir, why don't you retire? Don't keep struggling through this. This war will drag on endlessly; it's really not worth it. Besides, we are safe now, so we can..."

"Not leaving!" The regimental doctor cut Wang Yan off. "I'm still useful; I'm not immobile. Even if I can't keep up with the main force, I can still do something."

"No need to decide immediately, old sir. We'll be resting and reorganizing for at least a month or two this time. Let the comrades recover properly; there's plenty of time before we depart."

"Anyway, I'm not leaving!" The regimental doctor muttered, then stood up and walked away, not wanting to listen to Wang Yan anymore.

"This old rascal," Long Wenzhang said with amusement, then asked, "Commander Wang, what did you say to the foreign devils?"

"They'll provide us with equipment and supplies next month."

Fan La asked, "What about our superiors? No news from them?"

"Who are my superiors? Who is above me? Laozi is the self-proclaimed commander of the Sichuan Regiment; whose news should I be waiting for?"

"Regimental Commander Wang, you shouldn't say things like that."

Just then, a young officer walked over and happened to hear Wang Yan's words.

Wang Yan snorted with laughter. "What is it?"

"His Excellency invites you to dinner; everything is ready, just waiting for your arrival."

Wang Yan naturally did not refuse; immediately holding his can, he ate as he followed that officer to the outside of Luo Zhuoying's tent.

A table had already been set up there, laden with wine and dishes; the wine was foreign liquor, while the dishes were quite varied, including fish, meat, wild vegetables, and mushrooms, all sourced from nearby areas.

Seeing Wang Yan arrive, Luo Zhuoying said, "You've cleaned up; you look like a different person, much more spirited, very good! Sit!"

Wang Yan cupped his hands in greeting, found a nearby seat, and was then urged to sit at Luo Zhuoying's right hand as a meritorious hero; it seemed they were quite satisfied, thinking Wang Yan understood seating arrangements and respected hierarchy, but in reality, Wang Yan had just sat down randomly...

"Come, come, Wang Yan, I toast you; as I said before, without you, Wang Yan, there would not be this favorable situation in Burma today." Luo Zhuoying cracked open a cup of wine and downed it in one go, showing great boldness and generosity.

Wang Yan merely took a small sip, accompanying him only symbolically.

He unceremoniously tore off a chicken leg and began eating it directly with his hands.

"Commander Luo, you know me; I am a rough man, incapable of speaking in roundabout ways, and I cannot endure so much twisting and turning. My situation has probably reached Old Chiang by now, so let's get straight to the point."

"You speak quickly and directly; I like that simple and decisive style; this is the conduct a soldier ought to have."

Luo Zhuoying continued, "Your matter is indeed significant; those who should know and those who shouldn't have all found out, including the Chairman himself. It must be said that you were truly buried and overlooked, but fortunately, a hero always has a day to rise. With your own formidable skills, haven't you now fought your way to prominence?"

Although Luo Zhuoying claimed to like simplicity and directness, he habitually spoke a long string of useless words, detailing the battles they knew Wang Yan had participated in and emphasizing the major role Wang Yan and his unit were currently playing in Burma...

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