Chapter 434: Request for Aid Telegram

Yangon, Japanese Army 15th Army Headquarters.

The building that occupies the former colonial governor's office is now shrouded in oppressive, restless, and ominous deathly silence.

Outside the window the tropical noon sun blazes, yet inside the lights are dim, the air thick with tobacco, sweat, and an intangible, suffocating panic.

Lieutenant General Fan Tian Xiang Erlang, the commander, stands with his hands behind his back, pacing back and forth before the table spread with a massive Myanmar battle map.

He is dressed in a crisp officer's uniform, collar tightly fastened, medals gleaming, yet his usually steady face has darkened like a sky before a storm.

His steps grow faster and heavier.

The staff lower their heads, huddled in the corner, daring not to breathe. Everyone knows the commander's mood has deteriorated to the extreme.

There is only one reason: the Mandalay front, the 18th Division, is on the brink of collapse.

Beep—beep—beep—

The radio operator's rapid key clicks pierce the silence again.

A new telegram from the Mandalay front arrives directly at the 15th Army headquarters.

"Report!" the communications staff rushes forward, voice trembling, "Mandalay… Mukoda Koya, commander of the 18th Division, urgent telegram! Requesting emergency reinforcement! Requesting air support! Requesting the rd Division to rush north at full speed!"

Fan Tian Xiang Erlang abruptly stops, snatches the telegram.

The handwriting is scrawled, tone almost pleading: "The division is fully encircled, ammunition exhausted, Chinese army artillery fierce, chemical warfare ineffective, request the army commander to rescue immediately! The 18th Division is in mortal danger!"

The few short lines make Fan Tian Xiang Erlang's eyelids twitch wildly, his chest constricting.

He hurls the telegram onto the table, producing a crisp "Snap".

"Rescue?!" he can no longer hold back, lowering his voice to a roar, tone filled with extreme suppressed irritation and helplessness, "What rescue can I offer?! Under the 15th Army, which intact unit can be sent to Mandalay?!"

The staff tremble all over, no one dares to respond.

The 18th Division and the 56th Division are actually not part of the 15th Army; the Japanese Army's 15th Army attacking Myanmar consists only of the rd Division and the Fifty-five Division.

The reason the 18th Division and the 56th Division entered Myanmar under Fan Tian Xiang Erlang's command lies squarely with Tonggu.

Dai Anlan's th Division is firmly pinned at Tonggu, causing the Fifty-five Division's attack to falter; meanwhile the Japanese Army receives intelligence that the Chongqing forces have formed an Expeditionary Force entering Myanmar, prompting Southern Army commander Terauchi Hisaichi to also send reinforcements to Myanmar.

Thus the 25th Army, with the 18th Division and 56th Division under Xia Shan Feng Wen, is assigned to the 15th Army.

However, the 18th Division and 56th Division that once cut through Southeast Asia are now, respectively, almost completely annihilated, their commanders missing.

And now the 18th Division is encircled by the Chinese army in Mandalay.

Just months ago they roamed the Malaya Peninsula; now they have reached this point.

Fan Tian Xiang Erlang turns, pointing at the front line on the map, his voice hoarse and painful:

"rd Division, under Zhu Nei Kuan, I ordered them to move north along the Yi Luo Wa Di Jiang to reinforce Mandalay! Where are they now? They are constantly harassed by Chinese air force, roads destroyed, supplies lagging, advancing only a few kilometers a day! By the time they arrive, Mandalay will already be taken by the Chinese army! The 18th Division has already turned to ash!"

He becomes increasingly agitated, his finger pounding heavily on the characters "Yangon", almost gritting his teeth as he utters the next sentence:

"Air support? You still bring up air support to me?!"

"The Chinese air force bombed Yangon Airport the day after launching air raids on Mandalay! The main force of the Fifth Flying Division stationed here was almost completely wiped out! Aircraft, runway, oil depot, ammunition depot, a sea of fire! Now above Yangon there isn't a single operational fighter or bomber! What can support Mandalay?! What can give Mukoda Koya any chance of survival?!"

The headquarters is dead silent.

Everyone understands that the commander's words are a blood‑soaked reality.

The loss of land‑based air power is the most lethal blow to the Japanese Army in Myanmar. Without air superiority, the Japanese's movements, supplies, and defenses are exposed to the Expeditionary Force's fire, forced to take hits with no means of retaliation.

A colonel staff officer hesitates for a long time, then steels himself and steps forward, speaking softly:

"Sir Division Commander… the 18th Division is an Imperial Class A Division, the core combat force on the Myanmar battlefield… If Mandalay falls and the 18th Division is annihilated… the Imperial's line in Myanmar will collapse completely."

It would have been better not to say it, but once spoken, the panic Fan Tian Xiang Erlang had just suppressed surges again violently.

He staggers a step, grabs the table edge, his vision dimming slightly.

Collapse.

The two words hit his heart like a heavy hammer.

He knows the consequences better than anyone: lose Mandalay and northern Myanmar falls entirely; the 18th Division's annihilation leaves the Japanese Army without elite field corps in Myanmar; the Expeditionary Force will ride its victory southward, its spear pointing at Yangon; then, as the commander of the 15th Army, he will either be defeated and commit suicide, or return home to face a court‑martial, disgraced and never to recover.

"Mukoda Koya…" Fan Tian Xiang Erlang whispers the name, his tone full of disappointment and resentment, "I repeatedly warned him to consolidate and strike steadily, not to overreach, not to underestimate the Chinese Expeditionary Force… he didn't listen."

"Now surrounded, you think of asking for aid?"

"Too late."

He slowly sits back down, feeling ten years older in an instant. His shoulders slump, his gaze hollow, leaving only a deep, helpless unease.

Fan Tian Xiang Erlang looks at the general's star on his shoulder, knowing that after the Myanmar battle he certainly cannot hold it.

No matter how fierce the sunlight outside, it cannot penetrate the cold in his heart.

He raises his hand, waving it wearily:

"Reply to Mandalay… order Mukoda Koya to hold fast and await reinforcement."

"Order the rd Division, Zhu Nei Kuan, to disregard everything and rush north at full speed."

"Beyond that…"

He pauses, his voice so light it is almost inaudible, tinged with a hint of despair:

"Our forces have no troops left to dispatch."

Those words pronounce the fate of the Japanese forces in Mandalay.

The staff lower their heads, their hearts icy.

The commander has no troops to send, no aid to provide. How long can the 18th Division in Mandalay hold out?

Fan Tian Xiang Erlang closes his eyes, Jiang Anguo's name repeatedly surfacing in his mind.

The Chinese commander who rose from the sky, ruthless, who bombed Yangon, shelled Mandalay, and encircled the 18th Division.

An unprecedented unease completely overwhelms him.

He has a vague premonition: the skies over the Myanmar battlefield have changed. The Imperial's advantage in Myanmar is gradually collapsing. He and the 15th Army are about to face an unprecedented disaster.

The distant echo of Mandalay's artillery still rings, and to Fan Tian Xiang Erlang it increasingly sounds like the death knell of the Japanese Army's annihilation in Myanmar.