Chapter 152: Time Is on Our Side

One can imagine, if the 56th Division truly had its headquarters completely annihilated, that would be a monumental piece of news.

"This matter must be investigated thoroughly! And quickly!" the Principal waved his arms, his tone severe, "Implement concrete battle results as soon as possible! Once confirmed, the propaganda side must keep up! Let the whole nation know that our Expeditionary Force is fighting well in Myanmar!"

He paused, a spark of eagerness flashing in his eyes: "Ideally there should be a Major General, or even a higher‑ranking officer among them. Then we could launch massive propaganda. The Americans like statistics, the British like victories; we need to produce something to show them that the Chinese Army is not a soft target."

From the moment war began, it has been not only a clash of guns and artillery, but also a battle of public opinion.

Just as the Japanese back then arrogantly shouted "China will be annihilated in three months," that was to overwhelm China with momentum. Now, China also needs a victory to inspire the people.

Especially in 1942, with all supply routes completely cut off, a genuine victory was desperately needed.

That night, the Huangshan residence was brightly lit.

The Principal urgently summoned several senior officers of the Military Commission, including He Yingqin, Bai Chongxi, and Xu Yongchang, to conduct an urgent analysis of the upcoming situation in Myanmar.

On the map table, a massive military map of Myanmar was spread out, with red and blue arrows interlacing.

Although the meeting's atmosphere was considerably more relaxed than in the previous months, it remained severe. Everyone generally believed that the Myanmar war had entered a defensive phase. The opportunity for a large‑scale counter‑offensive had already been missed, but fortunately the backbone of the main forces had not been shattered.

"Based on the current rough battle reports," He Yingqin adjusted his glasses, holding a compiled report, said, "Sun Liren's new 28th Division and Liao Yaoxiang's new 22nd Division, retreating toward India, still have relatively complete organization and their structure remains intact, but they have also sent telegrams requesting material supplies. Meanwhile, Du Yuming's Fifth Army main force, withdrawing toward Myitkyina, lacks supplies, yet still has a numerical advantage and its core combat capability remains intact."

In fact, He Yingqin did not know that the Fifth Army's supply provisions had already been sent over by Jiang Anguo.

After all, for Jiang Anguo, food was never scarce, but for a nation at war, a single bowl of rice is so precious.

Bai Chongxi took a red‑blue pencil and drew a circle on the map: "We estimate that in this incursion into Myanmar, our Expeditionary Force's combat and non‑combat casualties combined will be roughly between 12,000 and 14,000. Of course, all this can only be tallied after every unit has fully withdrawn to the designated point and undergone thorough reorganization."

"This is already a blessing amid misfortune," sighed Xu Yongchang, Deputy Director of the Military Commission, "If the withdrawal were delayed a few more days, the whole army might be annihilated."

"Moreover, according to each operation's statistics, the Japanese deployed four divisions in Myanmar, and their casualty numbers are not much fewer than ours. Especially the Japanese 55th Division, which fought the Tonggu and the 200th Division, suffered extremely heavy losses," Bai Chongxi added, "The 200th Division, as well as the Independent Regiment, fought some splendid battles."

"Great!" the Principal said, exhaling deeply, a hint of satisfied smile on his face, "This battle, though a retreat, still boosted our troops' morale. Especially that Independent Regiment, and Jiang Anguo, deserve commendation."

Jiang Anguo was thinking of adding another star to his shoulder, but he was fine with having risen from Major to Colonel in two months; he didn't care much about rank—have you ever seen a Major commanding over ten thousand troops?

The Chairman's heart had been constantly pounding over the Myanmar operation. After all, this was the Chinese Army's first overseas campaign since the Sino‑Japanese War of 1894‑95. Even during the Qing Dynasty, Myanmar was merely a tributary state; now they had to fight on British colonial soil, encountering countless obstacles and hardships.

If it weren't for the British's poor organization and even desertion in battle, the Principal firmly believed that, with the Expeditionary Force's equipment and combat power, they could have fought even more splendidly.

From the battle reports returned from the front, each item recorded the British's calculations. They had constantly used the Expeditionary Force as a shield to cover their retreat to India. There was nothing they could do, because the Principal needed international aid, and Myanmar was originally British territory; the only route for international assistance now was the Dian-Mian Highway.

This deeply humiliated the Principal. Many of the supplies, when being shipped to the Yangon port, were privately seized by the British for profit and sent to the North Africa front for Montgomery's campaigns.

But the home front could no longer sustain all the troops' operations. The Chongqing government's fiscal deficit was staggering; millions of soldiers needed food and clothing. Even if the British were as despicable as ever, the Principal still had to grit his teeth and maintain this fragile alliance. Any other person, faced with this situation, would have surrendered long ago.

In 1942, for China it truly was the darkest and most difficult year before dawn.

Yet within that darkness, a sliver of dawn emerged.

The formation of the Expeditionary Force and its entry into Myanmar were not only to help the British protect their crumbling colony, but more importantly, this was China's last lifeline, the Dian-Mian Highway.

"Some things only work when we become strong ourselves," the Principal murmured, looking at the red dots on the map, "Others are unreliable; we must rely on ourselves."

……

The gaze returns to the vast battlefield.

In the spring of 1942, the Japanese offensive on Chinese soil had actually entered a strategic defensive and stalemate phase. After enduring the Battle of Changsha and a series of other large‑scale clashes, the Japanese were mired in quagmire, exhausted.

One crucial reason was that Japan's national strength had been overdrawn to its limit.

Years of continuous warfare had left both the soldiers' quality and logistical capacity lagging behind for the Japanese. Their offensive routes were extremely simple and rigid, advancing along railway lines and major transport arteries such as the Yellow River and the Yangtze River. This explains why the Japanese did not launch large‑scale attacks in the mountainous regions of Zhejiang and Fujian; those areas were resource‑poor, terrain‑complex, and held no strategic value, so deploying troops there would cost much and yield little.

Because of the prolonged war, restoring production on Chinese lands occupied by the Japanese proved extremely difficult. Guerrilla units were everywhere, and 'saboteurs' were ubiquitous.

It was precisely because of this that the Japanese found it hard to obtain supplies in this vast occupied zone. They began implementing the brutal "fight‑to‑feed‑fight" policy. The establishment of the Wang puppet government was largely intended to control peasants through the puppet army, get them back to farming, and thus secure grain supplies for the Japanese.

Clearly, this plunder‑driven rule could not win the people's support, and grain output never rose.

Strategically, as early as the end of 1941, the Japanese high command had devised a plan to attack Southeast Asia, code‑named "Southward Advance." All Japanese materiel was already being funneled to the Southern Army, with large numbers of ships and supplies stockpiled in Taiwan and Hainan Island, preparing to invade the Philippines, Malaya, and the Dutch East Indies.

And this six‑month Southeast Asian campaign, though the Japanese won battle after battle, was like an over‑fed giant whose offensive momentum clearly slowed, or rather, could no longer launch large‑scale assaults.

Manpower and material resources had both reached their peak.

The Japanese high command's biggest current problem was not how to continue the offensive, but how to absorb the vast territories and resources of Southeast Asia. Occupying a region requires garrison troops, establishing security administrations, building roads, and mining— all of which also demand time.

Time now seems to have become a friend on the side of the Allied Forces.