Chapter 112: One Month

September 18, 1931, outside Shenyang, in the temporary command post, the kerosene lamp's halo flickered over the Military Map. Continuous autumn rain filled the tent with a damp, musty smell; water droplets ran down the canvas seams, splashing tiny sprays on the ammunition boxes. Du Yuming stood before the map, his finger pressing heavily on the characters "Jinzhou," the callus on his fingertip rubbing the rough paper. The mountains of the Liaoxi Corridor formed a dense spider‑web of contour lines—there they would be the final barrier shielding refugees entering the pass.

"Has the Director left?" he asked without raising his head, his voice hoarse from a sleepless night.

Huang Wei was marking Japanese troop movements with a red pencil when he paused at the words: "Left, the 8 p. m. train tonight." He jabbed the pencil hard. "The Director said we can at most buy a month in Jinling. During that month, Jinling will no longer urge us to withdraw."

"One month…" Du Yuming murmured, his fingertip measuring the distance from Shenyang to Shanhaiguan on the map. "The time is a bit short."

"There's no way around it," Huang Wei sighed, spreading out the casualty ledger. "From the outer Shenyang battle to the counterattack at Changchun, our Fifth Army expanded from 80,000 to 110,000, and now only a little over 80,000 remain. The Northeast Army fared worse; fewer than 200,000 are combat‑ready."

From outside the tent came the clatter of soldiers hauling ammunition, mingled with the moans of the wounded. Du Yuming watched the shadows flickering on the canvas and suddenly asked, "In one month, how many people can we save?"

"It's better than nothing," Huang Wei's voice lowered. "Yesterday the refugee surge from Liaoyang already poured in; tens of thousands of women and children alone. These civilians are carrying the elderly and the young, braving the autumn rain to head inland, and many have already frozen or starved on the road."

Du Yuming sprang to his feet, his army boots leaving deep prints in the mud. "How many can the Northeast Army field?"

"Deputy Commander Zhang just called, saying they can muster at most 200,000," Huang Wei said, pointing to the Songhua River basin on the map. "But they're all newly formed security units; many can't even fire a gun. Their equipment is poor—some units have three men sharing a single Old Sleeve Tube."

"What about our Fifth Army?"

"Including logistics and transport troops, we can only bring about 100,000 to the front," Huang Wei forced a wry smile. "Before the Director left, he requisitioned three divisions, saying they were hard‑pulled from the Huabei Defense Line; there are no more to spare. In Jiangxi, the Bandit Suppression fighting is tightening, and the Chairman refuses to allocate more troops."

Du Yuming was silent for a moment, then seized a bronze bell and shook it vigorously. The crisp ringing cut through the rain, and the commanding officers of each unit hurried through the mud into the command post; water droplets on their hat brims fell onto the floor, forming tiny puddles. Their uniforms were caked in mud, their faces etched with fatigue, yet their eyes remained resolute.

"Meeting," Du Yuming said, walking to the map and pointing the command staff toward the Liaoxi Corridor. "The Director said that this month our only mission is one—to rescue as many Northeastern Fellow Countrymen as possible." His voice was clear and forceful, especially steadfast amid the rain.

"First line, Liaoxi Corridor Defense Line," the command staff thumped heavily along the Jinzhou‑to‑Shanhaiguan line. "Concentrate 80,000 Central Army troops and 100,000 Northeast Army troops, equipped with 150 Tanks and 80 aircraft. This is the main route for refugees entering the pass; we must use the terrain of Yiwulu Mountain to build a network of forts, dig Trench, hide Tanks at mountain passes, and have aircraft patrol the railway intensively. If the Japanese try to advance westward from Shenyang, they must pass here, and we will fill it with flesh and blood, also buying the refugees time to evacuate."

Song Xilian sprang to his feet: "I volunteer to defend Jinzhou! My unit fought hard in Jinan, we're not afraid to fight!"

"Approved," Du Yuming nodded, swinging the command staff northward. "Second line, Songhua River Line. 50,000 Northeast Army, 20,000 Central Army, with 50 Tanks and 40 aircraft, defending from Harbin to Jiamusi." He pointed at the frozen river channel. "If the Japanese push north, they'll taste the strength of river defenses. This sector must shield refugees moving toward the Soviet Far East and the interior of Heilongjiang; blow up the river bridges, hold the fords, and never allow the Japanese to encircle the rear."

"Third line, Liaonan-Liaodong Containment Line," the command staff turned toward Dalian and Yingkou. "Leave 30,000 Northeast Army, equipped with 100 Tanks and 80 aircraft. No need for direct confrontation; fight guerrilla—when the Japanese attack, you withdraw. When they retreat, you bomb their supply lines and stations. Keep their main force tied down in the south, easing pressure on the other two lines."

The General Officers murmured, and the nd Armored Regiment commander pointed at the tank symbols on the map and asked, "How should the armored units be employed?"

"Form three Armored Divisions," Du Yuming said, pointing to the plains of Liaoxi and the Songhua River. "The mountains of Liaoxi aren't suitable for tank charges, so keep them hidden behind the line as a fire‑fighting reserve; wherever the line is breached, they rush in. The Songhua River banks are mostly plains, allowing tank clusters to counter‑charge and break up Japanese formations. Remember, Tanks are shields, not spears; our goal is to delay, not to decide the battle."

Aviation Brigade Commander asked immediately, "What about the aircraft? There aren't many left."

"Rotate them in batches; don't let Japanese reconnaissance aircraft get near the line," Du Yuming said. "When we spot Japanese troop concentrations, bomb them; when we see their supply trains, strike them. Even if only one aircraft remains, keep it flying to confuse them about our strength. Air combat should prioritize preserving our force; we must not rashly engage Japanese fighters."

He paused, his gaze sweeping each weary yet steadfast face. "Infantry brothers, listen: don't imitate the Japanese with mass charges. Use towns and mountains, build clear forts and hidden bunkers, extend Trench into the civilians' cellars, and fight the Japanese in street and mountain warfare. We are few and cannot afford losses, so we must rely on clever tactics—hold during the day, harass at night, make them eat poorly and sleep badly. That is the strategy of delay and attrition."

Engineer Commander raised a question: "The permanent works in Liaoxi have already been dismantled by the Director, and materials are scarce now…"

"Use what's on site," Du Yuming declared resolutely. "Take bricks and stone from demolished houses, cut down trees on the hills—use whatever is available. Tell the civilians, today we tear down a wall for them, tomorrow we'll give them a city."