Chapter 44: Xu Jin’s Bullet Screen!

Amid the roar of artillery fire, the battlefield across the river was shrouded in thick smoke, visibility nearly swallowed whole. The dull thunder of the guns seemed to herald the bloodshed to come.

Brigadier Chen Shan's impatient gaze pierced through the haze. He lowered his binoculars and turned to Colonel Meng Fan at his side, his voice resolute and firm: "Meng Fan, we train soldiers for a thousand days for this very moment. The engineers have sent word—the bridge is finished. Lead your 213th Regiment across under the cover of our artillery!"

His words carried the weight of an irrefutable order and a burning desire for victory: "Once the guns thunder, it’s worth more than ten thousand ounces of gold. The commander’s bombardment this time costs not only silver, but also his future and reputation."

"Commander Jiang truly treats us as his own. We must not let him down."

"Once you're across, whether or not you've established a forward position, I will personally lead the reinforcements to support you."

"I have only one thing to say: if the mission fails, you and I will both answer before the military tribunal. Success is the only option!"

"Yes, sir!" Meng Fan saluted crisply.

In the face of the brigadier’s stern command, Colonel Meng Fan of the 213th Regiment stood resolute. Determination flashed in his eyes, his voice unyielding: "Brigadier, let me be clear: if I cannot seize that beachhead, I will not live in shame!"

With those words, Meng Fan turned and immediately led his men to the assault.

He called out to the waiting soldiers: "Brothers, follow me!"

At Meng Fan’s order, three thousand soldiers of the 213th Regiment, 64th Infantry Brigade, emerged from their concealed positions, carrying the rafts prepared in advance. Along the two-kilometer front, under the ferocious cover of artillery fire, they launched their assault on the opposite bank!

Meanwhile, in the command post of the 23rd Security Division:

"Commander, we’re in trouble! Those damned Chenyun troops have begun their forced crossing!"

"What!? They’ve already started!?"

Yan Chun’s face darkened as the artillery thundered outside: "Infantry-artillery coordination! They’re actually able to pull this off!"

"Are they throwing everything Chenyun has into this? Damn it, why isn’t this great general attacking Taiyuan instead of this godforsaken place?"

Infantry-artillery coordination meant that as infantry charged, artillery provided long-range support to reduce casualties and blunt enemy counterattacks. Throughout such joint operations, the artillery had to adjust its fire according to the pace of the advancing infantry to prevent the troops from being caught by enemy fire if they moved too slowly.

But the tactic had a glaring weakness: since infantry advanced slowly, the artillery had to maintain a constant barrage ahead, consuming vast amounts of ammunition—often bombarding empty ground or repeating fire on the same positions.

Seeing the commander silent, Chief of Staff was sweating with anxiety. "Commander! The enemy is about to cross the river. What are your orders? If we let the Chenyun troops succeed, our advantage is lost! Should we fight, retreat, or surrender? If you don’t speak up, the men’s morale will collapse!"

Yan Chun shot the chief a glare and then spoke in a low, grim tone: "There’s no other way. We’ll block them with lives—cannon fodder is meant for just such moments!"

"Notify the 113th and 114th Regiments at once—move to the riverside positions via the communication trenches!"

At Yan Chun’s order, officers from the 113th and 114th Regiments berated their men as they hurried them forward:

"Get up! All of you, on your feet!" The officers’ voices rang out across the battlefield, sharp and urgent, their faces twisted in the flickering light of the bombardment.

"You’ve eaten and drunk at Commander Yan’s expense, and now you cower like mice!"

"Where are your weapons? Do you mean to go out empty-handed and serve as targets? Grab your arms—now!"

"Commander Yan’s order: assemble at the riverside positions! Not a single Chenyun soldier is to cross this river! Anyone who runs, I’ll personally send to their death—hack their body up to feed the dogs! You’ll be less than human in the afterlife!"

Their shouts exploded in the soldiers’ ears, striking harder than any enemy shell.

"Counterattack! Now! Don’t fear the artillery—that’s just noise to scare you! Stand firm, the shells won’t kill you! Commander says, every soldier who survives today gets fifty silver dollars! Counterattack!"

Driven by urgency and the lure of reward, a flicker of courage was kindled in the soldiers’ hearts.

Amid the frantic shouts and curses from their officers, a crowd of panicked, pale-faced men was forced forward. Bearing their terror and suffering casualties along the way, they finally reached the riverbank positions.

But before they could fire a single shot against the Chenyun troops attempting the crossing, the 213th Regiment’s machine gun emplacements on the far bank responded with a ferocious barrage.

To maximize suppressive fire, Brigadier Chen Shan had concentrated nearly a regiment’s firepower. Close to twenty MG-08/15s and thirty light machine guns poured bullets into the enemy’s 112th position as if ammunition were worthless.

The scene devolved instantly into chaos. Under their officers' shouted orders, the soldiers scrambled for cover, discipline and battle skills forgotten.

As the saying goes, veterans fear machine guns, rookies fear artillery. The veterans had already lost their nerve long ago—at this point, the battle’s outcome was no longer in doubt.

At the 64th Brigade’s heavy machine gun positions, the thunder of gunfire created an overwhelming curtain of suppression. Nearby, following the instructions of the German military advisor, the gunners fired repeatedly into the sky, enacting a tactical display never before witnessed on this battlefield.

Battalion Commander Wang Zhendong stared in shock, utterly stunned by what he saw.

"Mother of mine! In all my years of fighting, I’ve never seen anything like this! Sorcery—those foreign devils really do know magic!"

His voice was thick with astonishment and disbelief, as if he himself doubted the reality before him.

Beside him stood a stern-faced, blond-haired, blue-eyed German military advisor. Calm and confident, he replied as if defending the honor of science, "Dear Commander Wang, this is no sorcery—it is the power of science."

He continued, each word peeling back another layer of mystery: "We are on the planet Earth. Every object—even bacteria—is subject to gravity. If we know our position and the enemy’s on the map, we can use ballistic equations to calculate the precise angle for the heavy machine guns."

"This allows bullets to travel along exact trajectories, striking enemy positions directly. We used this technology extensively during the First Dynasty War—it enabled us to annihilate countless foes in a single day. If you’re interested, I can give you some books to read."

The German advisor’s words radiated a deep confidence and reverence for science, while Commander Wang deflated at once: "No, no, that won’t do. I became a soldier because I didn’t want to read—no books for me."