Chapter 196: Yellow River 1

On June 2, 1938, at the outer defensive positions of Anqing, the morning mist had not yet fully lifted, and the Yangtze River stretched like a gray‑yellow giant python, flowing slowly east of Anqing City. Division Commander Tong Yi of the 146th Division stood on the Grand View Pavilion outside the West Gate, and through his telescope the Zhenfeng Tower on the opposite bank appeared faintly in the mist.

"Division, Commander Yang has sent an urgent telegram," the Chief of Staff handed over the document.

Tong Yi took it, gave it a quick glance. The document came from Group Army 27 Commander Yang Shen; its content was brief and heavy: "Anqing is the gateway to Jiangcheng; it must be held to the death. The 133rd and 134th Divisions have been ordered to construct two lines of defense along the Huaining–Taihu front. Your unit shall hold the urban area, fighting to the last soldier, and must not retreat."

He set the telescope down and looked at the millennial ancient city beneath his feet. Anqing, the throat of the middle Yangtze, the eastern gate of Jiangcheng. The city wall was still relatively intact, but against modern artillery and aircraft, how long could these blue bricks hold?

"What is the deployment status of each regiment?" Tong Yi asked.

"The 876th Regiment guards the line from the East Gate to Congyang Gate, constructing twelve riverbank bunkers. The 877th Regiment holds the North Gate and Jixian Gate and is digging anti‑tank trenches. The 878th Regiment serves as a reserve, stationed in the city center," the Chief of Staff reported one by one. "Additionally, five hundred men have been drawn from the Provincial Security Regiment to help maintain order inside the city."

Tong Yi nodded and turned his gaze to the river. No civilian vessels remained on the water, only a few Imperial Japanese Navy gunboats patrolling—old shallow‑water gunboats, the largest no more than three hundred tons.

"River defense..." he sighed, "how many guns do we have that can reach the middle of the river?"

"The division's artillery battalion has six Shanghai‑made Mountain Guns, with a range of five thousand meters. In addition, two German‑made 75 mm coastal defense guns have been transferred from the river defense headquarters and installed at Yingjiang Temple and Cannon Camp Mountain," the Chief of Staff paused, "but if the Japanese have warships..."

"There is no 'if'," Tong Yi cut him off, "there definitely is. The Hatada Detachment has gathered at Zhenjiang; they won't swim over."

Just as he spoke, a muffled, thunderous explosion sounded in the distance. The noise came from the northeast, faintly audible across the Yangtze.

"The fighting has broken out at Zhengyang Pass," the Chief of Staff whispered.

Tong Yi remained silent. He recalled the battle report received three days earlier: the Japanese 6th Division Sakai Detachment had set out from Hefei, sequentially capturing Kedian Subdistrict and Liangyuan, while the National Army's 48th Army put up fierce resistance, suffering heavy casualties. Now the front had advanced to Zhengyang Pass, only a step away from Shou County.

If Shou County fell, the Japanese could march along the Huai River straight into Xinyang, threatening Wuhan from the north. By then, Anqing would become an isolated fortress.

"Send a reply to Commander Yang," Tong Yi turned and walked down from the Grand View Pavilion, "the staff vows to live and die with Anqing. The river defense is hollow; please promptly dispatch torpedoes and heavy artillery reinforcements."

At the same time, in the First War Zone Command Office, smoke curled in the conference room. Around the long table sat seven or eight generals, the atmosphere dreadfully heavy. At the head seat was First War Zone Commander Cheng Qian, with Special Envoy Huang Xin from the Military Committee on his left, and Group Army 20 Commander Shang Zhen on his right.

The map on the wall was densely marked with red and blue pencils; a thick blue line ran from Huayuan Pass north of Zhengzhou all the way to North Anhui, tracing the course of the Yellow River.

"Special Envoy Huang, the Battalion Commander's intention..." Cheng Qian weighed his words, "Do we really have to do this?"

Huang Xin, in his forties, wore gold‑rimmed glasses and looked like a scholar, but his eyes were sharp. He was a senior staff officer of the Aides‑de‑Camp, sent this time with an unchallengeable order.

"Song Gong," Huang Xin adjusted his glasses, "we already said at yesterday's meeting that this is a strategic necessity. The Japanese 14th Division has already captured Lanfeng; the old devil Tu Fei Yuanxian II's goal is clear—cut off the Longhai Line and strike Jiangcheng straight from the north. If we let them succeed..."

He did not finish, but everyone present understood the consequence. Jiangcheng would be caught in a north‑south pincer; by then, not even retreat could guarantee an open route.

Shang Zhen coughed, "Special Envoy Huang, breaching the dike and releasing water can indeed block the Japanese, but the downstream civilians..."

"We can't worry about that much," Huang Xin said coldly, "war always demands a price. Now it's a choice between hundreds of thousands of civilians and the overall anti‑war situation. The Battalion Commander has already decided; we are merely executors, and when Jing Gong tried to dissuade yesterday, he said nothing at all."

The conference room was deathly silent. Outside, cicadas screamed hoarsely, adding to the oppression.

Cheng Qian's fingers tapped lightly on the tabletop, and after a pause he spoke, "Technically, how do we execute it? The Yellow River is not a creek; you can't just decide to breach the dike."

"The engineer experts have already surveyed," Huang Xin took several blueprints from his briefcase, "the optimal site is Huayuan Pass. The dike there is relatively weak, and the terrain slopes from west high to east low; once a breach occurs, floodwaters can rush along the Jialu River, Ying River, and Wo River straight into North Anhui, creating a floodplain dozens of kilometers wide—enough to halt the Japanese Mechanized Forces for three months."

"Three months..." Shang Zhen murmured, "and after three months? When the flood recedes, hundreds of thousands of acres of good farmland become marshland, and millions of civilians are displaced..."

"That's a later concern," Huang Xin folded the blueprints, "the immediate priority is to stop the Japanese. The Battalion Commander has issued orders; this matter is top secret, and participants must be strictly screened. Execution is assigned to Group Army 20 under Commander Shang, and Engineer Battalion 53 is on standby."

He looked at those present and said, "Today's words exit through this door and enter that ear. Whoever leaks even a single sentence will be dealt with under Military Law."

The meeting ended under a stifling atmosphere. Cheng Qian was the last to leave the conference room; he stood by the corridor window, watching the blazing sun outside. In the early June Central Plains, the wheat was nearly ripe, and the crops along the banks of the Yellow River were thriving.

"What a sin, had we known, we should have urged Jing Gong together yesterday..." the old man sighed softly, his voice full of desolation.