Chapter 441: Chongqing

Chongqing, Huangshan Official Residence.

Amid the cloud‑shrouded, mist‑wrapped mountains and forests, this usually solemn and austere residence today exuded an indescribable lightness.

In recent days, the Pacific Theater has been rife with bad news; the American Army's Coral Sea battle suffered setbacks, and the Midway situation is unfavorable.

The American Army in the western Pacific once fell into a passive position, and the morale of the Allied camp waned.

Chongqing's senior officials all wore grave expressions.

What they worry about is whether American supplies can be shipped into Chongqing.

At this moment, however, the atmosphere inside the commander's office was completely different.

Principal clasped his hands behind his back, pacing briskly before the desk spread with a massive operational map, his steps unusually light. He tightly gripped a freshly delivered telegram, its paper edges slightly crumpled.

On the telegram, one line stood out: Mandalay recaptured, Japanese 18th Division's main force annihilated, division commander Muta Kugou Lian also killed, northern Myanmar's situation reversed!

He abruptly halted, turned, and fixed his gaze on Dai Li standing beside him, his voice trembling with barely concealed disbelief:

"Yunong, this telegram… is it true? Has Mandalay really been retaken?"

Dai Li stepped forward, his back straight, and said confidently, "Principal, absolutely certain. The battle report came directly from the Expeditionary Force Headquarters: the 200th Division under Dai Anlan first breached the city and entered Mandalay, fighting bloodily for two days and nights, crushing the main force of the Japanese 18th Division, and now controls the entire city. Jiang Anguo's st Division forced a crossing of the Meijie River, executed a southern‑theater pincer, and achieved great merit."

Inside the office, He Yingqin and Chen Cheng stood side by side, both unable to hide shock and joy on their faces.

He Yingqin stepped forward, holding a thick battle‑situation briefing, his voice steady: "Principal, not only that. In this Mandalay counter‑offensive, within just two months our forces turned the retreat in northern Myanmar into a full‑line counterattack, recapturing the strategic hub of northern Myanmar—of great significance. The 18th Division was a Japanese elite A‑type unit; this heavy blow has shattered Japanese morale in Myanmar."

"That 18th Division was one of the Japanese units that participated in the Nanjing Massacre!"

Principal exhaled a long breath, the lingering gloom that had weighed on his heart for days cleared, and his face finally showed the first genuine relaxed smile in months.

"Good! Good! Good!" he said three times, unable to hide his excitement, "Dai Anlan fought brilliantly! The 200th Division lives up to expectations, truly elite of our army!"

Chen Cheng also stepped forward, his tone uplifting: "Principal, this victory is not only a win in northern Myanmar but a triumph for the entire Allied cause. With the American forces in the Pacific faltering, our great victory in Myanmar is like a tonic for the whole anti‑fascist camp. Britain and the United States will surely look upon our nation with new respect!"

Principal nodded, walked to the window, and gazed at the heavy mist outside, a spark flashing in his eyes:

"Most of the Jianghan Plain has been retaken, the Japanese westward advance thwarted; now the key northern Myanmar city Mandalay is recaptured again… two months, just two months, the world has turned upside down!"

He turned back, his gaze sweeping the crowd, his voice resonant:

"Jiang Anguo, Dai Anlan, both are pillars of the nation. st Division, the 200th Division, cooperate in battle, brave and invincible, raise our country's prestige!"

Dai Li bowed and added, "Principal, once the news is announced, the whole of Chongqing will erupt in cheers. Internationally, the British and American embassies have already sent congratulatory telegrams, lavishly praising our military strength."

He Yingqin also said, "Now we only need to open the railway from Mandalay to the Yangguang Railway; northern Myanmar's transport can be restored, the aid corridor to China will be reopened, and international assistance can flow continuously into China, further solidifying the sustained resistance."

Principal slowly sat down, lifted the hot tea on the table, his fingertips relaxing; the worst sleep and deepest worries of recent days vanished in that moment.

"Issue the orders," he said, his voice calm yet authoritative, "All soldiers of the 200th Division and the st Division, issue commendations. Dai Anlan, Jiang Anguo, record their merits. Fallen soldiers shall all receive preferential relief."

"Yes!" the three answered in unison.

Inside the office, there was no longer any trace of the previous oppression.

The recapture of Mandalay, like a brilliant flash, pierced the gloom over Chongqing and illuminated the dark moments of the entire Allied battlefield.

July 1942, also the hottest period in Chongqing, had gone two months without hearing an air‑raid siren, and Japanese aircraft had perhaps not bombed Chongqing for a long time.

On the afternoon streets, newsboys clutched freshly printed flyers, breaking the quiet of alleys; their hoarse yet loud shouts pierced the mountain city's mist: "Extra! Extra! Mandalay recaptured! Our Expeditionary Force has routed the Japanese, annihilated the 18th Division!"

At first, the townspeople on the street were still hesitant; some set aside their work, hurried over, trembling as they took the flyer, their fingertips brushing the five bold characters "Mandalay Recaptured," though they truly had no idea where Mandalay was.

There were also some military and political officials in Chongqing who understood the significance of Mandalay's recapture.

Mandalay's fall and now its recapture, this key Burmese stronghold, meant the Dian‑Mian Highway supply line could be reopened, that the Chinese Expeditionary Force far in northern Myanmar finally achieved a great victory, and that the dawn of resistance drew a step nearer.

When the news that "the annihilated 18th Division was one of the chief perpetrators of the Nanjing Massacre" spread by broadcast to every corner of the mountain city, hesitation and calm were instantly replaced by surging jubilation and righteous anger.

Someone clenched his fist hard, slammed it against the wall, choking out a roar: "Good! Well fought! These beasts have finally paid the price!"

The previously scattered crowd quickly gathered, and the streets and alleys instantly boiled with excitement.

Without firecrackers, the people raised their hoes, shoulder poles, and porcelain basins, beating them furiously; the crisp sounds interwove, drowning out the mountain city's wind. Without ribbons, they tore off their own blankets and sheets, waving them as they ran, the bright red cloth rustling in the wind, reddening the faces of the excited crowd.

An elderly man with white hair leaned on his cane, trembling as he stood on the street, his cloudy eyes full of tears, repeatedly murmuring, "Fellow Nanjingers, have you seen? The enemy has been eradicated!"

Young students brandished wooden placards bearing "Blood Debt, Blood Repayment" and "Return My Nanjing," shouting along the streets; their resonant voices echoed among the mountain city's buildings.

A woman holding a child pointed at the cheering crowd, softly recounting Nanjing's suffering; the child waved a tiny fist, babbling, "Down with the Japanese!"

The newsboys' flyers were snatched clean; some bought several copies, keeping them in their pockets as if they were the most precious treasures.

Shops along the street hoisted red lanterns, shop assistants stepped out and joined the revelry; even the usually stern military police and police laid down their batons, laughing and cheering with the people, their eyes full of satisfaction.

As the sun set, the mountain city's afterglow intertwined with the people's jubilation, shouts, beats, and cheers continuing through the night.

People forgot the hardships of war and the toil of life, only knowing that the 18th Division, its hands stained with the blood of Nanjing's compatriots, the so‑called "Ever‑Victorious Division," the demonic unit, had finally been utterly annihilated.

This is not only a victory for Mandalay's recapture, but also a consolation for the over‑300,000 Nanjing victims, another uplifting triumph on the Chinese nation's path of resistance.

Night deepened, Chongqing's night sky lit by lights and cheers; this weathered provisional capital, in that moment, shone with the brightest radiance thanks to righteous vengeance and victorious joy.