This was a middle-aged man who looked a bit dull, wearing a greasy apron. His hands appeared swollen and pale from washing vegetables and rice for a long time. Seeing the commotion in the Regimental Headquarters, he seemed a bit flustered.
"Comrade Zhao Fugui, sit down." Ding Wei's tone softened, and he pulled up a stool for him. "We asked you here because we heard you tinkered with cannons in the Jin-Sui Army before?"
Zhao Fugui's body trembled slightly. He looked up, a complex expression flashing in his eyes, a mix of nostalgia and pain. "Yes, Regiment Commander. But that was a long time ago." "What kind of cannon? Mountain gun? Mortar?" Ding Wei pressed.
"Mainly the Type 82 Mortar, and, and I understand some drills for mountain guns." Zhao Fugui's voice lowered. "Later, the unit was scattered, and I... I..."
"Comrade Fugui," Ding Wei walked up to him, his gaze sincere. "Let's not talk about the past. Right now, our New First Regiment is in dire need of technical talent like you. The regiment has two mortars that are about to rust because no one knows how to operate them. I want to transfer you to the artillery platoon directly under the Regimental Headquarters, no, let's call it an artillery squad first. You will be in charge, get our cannons set up again, and teach the soldiers what you know. What do you think?"
Zhao Fugui suddenly looked up, staring at Ding Wei in disbelief, his lips trembling. "Regiment Commander... I... can I do it? I'm just a cook..." "You can! If I say you can, you can!" Ding Wei firmly placed a hand on Zhao Fugui's shoulder. "In our Eighth Route Army, we don't care about background, only ability. I now appoint you as the squad leader of the artillery squad directly under the Regimental Headquarters. You pick a few smart and literate soldiers in the regiment. You must make our cannons fire, and more importantly, hit accurately, in the shortest possible time!"
"Yes, Regiment Commander!" Zhao Fugui stood up with a 'hoo' sound, straightening his back which had been stooped for many years. He responded with an almost perfect military salute, his voice trembling with excitement: "Zhao Fugui guarantees to complete the mission. I will live up to the Regiment Commander's trust and those two mortars!"
Watching Zhao Fugui's back as he left, as if he had regained his youth, Ding Wei felt a little more at ease. Discovering artillery talent was an unexpected joy and an important guarantee for future combat effectiveness. But for now, the most pressing matter was the storm that would arrive in five days.
For the next two days, the entire New First Regiment and the Zhao Family Compound base area operated like a tightly wound-up machine, revolving at high speed around the core objective of "anti-mopping-up operations." Zhang Dabiao's First Battalion dispersed into small units, vanishing into the vast mountains like mercury. They carried most of the captured grenades and landmines, and under the guidance of experienced old soldiers and militiamen, meticulously set deadly traps on all the major and minor paths leading to Zhao Family Compound. Felled trees were cleverly placed across narrow passages, tripwire mines were buried under seemingly natural piles of rocks, and logs and stones were prepared to be pushed down steep slopes when needed. Zhang Dabiao personally inspected the arrangements at several key points and emphasized to the soldiers: "Don't be stingy with our supplies, and don't be greedy for quantity. Make the devils walk on eggshells every step of the way. Slowing them down is victory!"
Liu Wenying was incredibly busy. He organized the Women's National Salvation Association, militiamen, and able-bodied civilians into a massive evacuation team. Provisions, uniforms, and medicine, especially the newly captured treasures, were carefully packed and carried by the young and strong in shifts. Women and children carried their personal belongings and food rations. Led by local cadres and guides dispatched by the army, the team silently and orderly withdrew from the village, following hidden paths towards pre-prepared, scattered, concealed caves and temporary camps deep in the mountains. The air was filled with the sorrow of parting and unease about the future, but under the firm gaze and effective organization of the Eighth Route Army soldiers and cadres, panic was kept to a minimum.
Ding Wei was stationed at the Regimental Headquarters, constantly receiving reports from all sides and adjusting deployments. He knew well that passive evasion could only provide temporary safety; they had to find opportunities during movement. Even small-scale attacks could make the devils pay a price and dampen their morale. Ding Wei ordered the Second and Third Battalions, after covering the civilian evacuation, not to concentrate but to occupy several strategic high grounds around Zhao Family Compound as independent companies or platoons, build simple fortifications, and prepare for sequential resistance and flanking harassment.
After handling these urgent military affairs, Ding Wei sent for the head of the regiment's logistics and armory repair shop, a Master Li, nearing fifty. Before joining the army, Master Li had worked for many years at the Taiyuan Arsenal and was a rare "technical authority" in the regiment. "Master Li, sit down." Ding Wei invited him to sit and asked casually, "Regiment Commander, how difficult would it be to repair a rifle with worn-out rifling in our regiment?"
Master Li sighed and shook his head: "Regiment Commander, it's difficult! The main problem is the lack of tools, and even more so, good steel. A regular blacksmith shop can make horseshoes or hoes, but repairing gun barrels? Especially rifling, that requires good steel and specialized tools. Right now, at most, we can straighten a bent barrel or temper a firing pin. Anything more complex, and we're stumped. Many guns have to be disassembled for parts because of barrel problems. What a waste!"
Ding Wei understood and said, "I recently heard a rumor that there's a Blacksmith Zhang in Yang Village whose craftsmanship is extraordinary, and he seems to know some special iron smelting methods. Go and investigate. See what kind of tools he uses, the quality of his ironware, and whether the steel he refines is strong enough to be used." Master Li's eyes lit up: "There's such a skilled person? Regiment Commander, if we can really find a craftsman who knows how to work with good steel, it would be a tremendous boon for us. I'll go right away!" "Be cautious," Ding Wei cautioned again. "The situation is tense now, and the devils are coming to mop up again. Safety is paramount."
Five days later, the Japanese devils' retaliatory mopping-up operation arrived as scheduled. Two companies of Japanese soldiers, along with some puppet troops, advanced menacingly towards Zhao Family Compound along several main roads. However, they soon experienced the "welcome gifts" prepared by the Eighth Route Army. Explosions erupted one after another, not in Zhao Family Compound, but on the mountain roads leading to it. Landmines, tripwire mines, and grenades set up as booby traps made the devils' vanguard unable to advance, with soldiers occasionally blown into the air. Snipers fired from the dense forests and behind rocks, targeting officers and machine gunners. Prepared logs and stones rolled down from the slopes. Although the direct casualties were limited, they greatly slowed the Japanese Army's advance, forcing their formations to disperse further and keeping their spirits in a constant state of high tension.
When the main force of the Japanese Army finally reached Zhao Family Compound, exhausted, they found only an empty village. The wells in the village were filled in, the stoves were destroyed, not a grain of rice could be found, and not a single civilian could be captured. The Japanese company commander leading the troops was furious and ordered his troops to search dispersedly. However, what awaited them were the snipers and sporadic artillery fire from the Second and Third Battalions occupying advantageous positions on the outskirts, as well as constant harassment from the First Battalion's skirmishers operating with stealth from the flanks and rear. When the Japanese Army tried to pursue, it was like punching cotton, unable to find the main force of the Eighth Route Army; when they tried to hold the empty village, they continued to suffer losses, and their morale gradually declined. Ding Wei stood on a mountaintop command post far from Zhao Family Compound, observing the movements in the distance with binoculars. The accuracy of the intelligence gave him absolute initiative. He calmly issued orders, constantly shifting the positions of his troops, sticking to the Japanese like sticky candy, consuming their energy and ammunition. "Tell Zhang Dabiao, the First Battalion can be even bolder; let's eliminate a few of their sentries tonight!"