Chapter 10: The Struggle

Hu Hao had ordered Sima Xuankong to take out the tank charging their sector. It had already closed the distance, rumbling a mere 300 meters from their trench line.

Sima Xuankong hit it dead center, but because he had loaded a high-explosive round instead of armor-piercing, it did little more than “scratch the itch” of the steel beast. The tank didn’t even flinch.

“What are you standing around for? Switch to armor-piercing!” Hu Hao roared, slamming in his final full magazine.

“Right! Hey, what are you waiting for? Armor-piercing!” Sima snapped at his loader.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Hu Hao ignored them, focusing on the encroaching infantry. The Allied forces were flooding the beach. With the tanks leading the charge, the enemy soldiers were using the armored hulls as moving cover to storm the heights.

“Rocket teams! Anti-tank guns! Focus on those tanks or we’re all dead!” Hu Hao’s voice cut through the chaos. Other squads were still paralyzed by the sight of the advancing steel.

“He’s right! Rockets! Take out the tanks!” A Platoon Leader nearby finally snapped out of his daze and began shouting orders. Only then did the rest of the soldiers scramble to ready their launchers.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The tanks had begun to return fire.

“Get down!” Hu Hao saw a turret swinging toward their position. He lunged sideways, tackling the nearest soldiers into the bottom of the trench just as a shell whistled overhead.

CRASH! A massive explosion rocked their section. Shards of concrete and dirt rained down on their helmets.

“Keep shooting!” Hu Hao barked, ignoring the debris covering his uniform.

“Fire! Keep firing!” Huan Xingtao scrambled up, echoing the command.

Hu Hao leaned over the parapet, his rifle barking rhythmically at the targets in his lane. After burning through the half-magazine, he ducked back down and reached for his pouches.

“Hao-ge, take mine! I’ll load for you!” A young soldier nearby thrust a full magazine into Hu Hao’s hand.

“Thanks!” Hu Hao snapped it in and popped back up.

“Medic! The Company Commander is down! Medic!” “Over here! We need a medic!”

The defense was becoming a bloodbath. The tanks were perilously close, but the Imperial soldiers were finally adapting to the reality of war, finding their rhythm with the rocket launchers.

“Heavy machine gun—CEASE FIRE!” Hu Hao shouted.

The area directly in front of them was suddenly quiet. Hu Hao’s accuracy had been devastating; he had personally thinned the herd to the point where an “empty zone” had formed in their sector. The ground was carpeted with Allied bodies.

“Squad Leader 2! Move your men over here! We’re being overrun!” someone from the neighboring section cried out. They had noticed the 50-meter gap Hu Hao had cleared.

“Stay here and hold this line,” Hu Hao told his squad. “I’m going to the flank. When I give the signal, you pop up and let them have it!”

“Got it!” they nodded in unison.

Hu Hao took four full magazines from the soldier who was loading for him and sprinted down the trench. He didn’t just shoot; he took command. On a battlefield, soldiers follow the man who knows what he’s doing. Since Hu Hao had been the first to fire and the one who coordinated the anti-tank response, the men naturally deferred to him.

“Machine gun, suppressive fire! Don’t stop! The rest of you, aim small! Rocket teams, wait for a clear shot! Their tanks can’t climb the ridge!” Hu Hao yelled while reloading.

The ridge in front of their position had a steep, 4-meter retaining wall. The tanks couldn’t climb over it, meaning their primary threat was their main guns. The real danger was the infantry hugging the hulls of disabled vehicles for cover.

Whump! Whump! Whump!

Heavy explosions echoed from the distance. Hu Hao glanced back and saw the silhouette of bombers.

“IN THE HOLE! MOVE!”

He dove into the bunker, followed by the rest of the squad. Seconds later, Allied bombers carpeted the area.

“Back out! Now!” Hu Hao surged back to the line. He noticed other bunkers remained silent. “Get them out! They’re moving again!”

“GET OUT HERE! THEY’RE CHARGING!” the soldiers yelled, dragging their dazed comrades out of the shelters.

“Machine gun, keep their heads down! Huan Xingtao, focus left, they’re bunching up!” Hu Hao directed the fire as he ran back to his original post.

He settled in and began picking off soldiers. He had a preternatural ability to predict where an enemy would emerge from cover; a split second after a head appeared, Hu Hao’s bullet was already there.

After an hour of intense fighting, the Allied momentum broke. The beach was a graveyard of men and machines.

BOOM!

An explosion rocked the rear of their position.

“Back to the bunkers! Naval artillery is ranging us again!” Hu Hao shouted.

They dove inside. Thirty seconds later, the world outside dissolved into thunder. They huddled in the darkness, the ground shaking beneath them. After a few minutes, the noise stopped. Hu Hao didn’t move.

“Shouldn’t we go back out?” Huan Xingtao yelled over the ringing in his ears.

“No. They’re retreating,” Hu Hao replied.

“Retreating? You sure?” Sima Xuankong asked.

“Go see for yourself.”

Sima Xuankong crept out and peered over the edge. The Allied landing craft were turning back toward the fleet, hauling survivors away. He ran back into the bunker, breathless.

“They’re actually going back! How did you know?”

“They can’t break through if they keep this up. They’ve taken too many losses,” Hu Hao said simply.

Sima Xuankong nodded blankly and slumped to the ground, the adrenaline deserting him. Hu Hao lit a cigarette.

“What are you sitting around for? There are wounded out there! Move!” Hu Hao barked.

“What?” The soldiers blinked at him.

“You heard the screaming! Go help the medics!”

“Right! Let’s move!” He Jizhong led the way out.

“Thank you,” Huan Xingtao said as he passed Hu Hao. “If you hadn’t stepped up, some of the boys wouldn’t be breathing right now.”

“Forget it. Just go,” Hu Hao said, staring into the smoke.

The scene reminded him of his previous life on the battlefields of Earth. He had fought alongside brothers who were now long dead. He felt a profound weariness. He was starting to hate war.

My brothers are gone. Why am I still doing this? He stood up, slung his rifle, and walked out into the trench.

The air was thick with the smell of cordite and the sound of agony. Hu Hao let out a long sigh.

“You’re Hu Hao, right?” A Second Lieutenant approached him.

“Yes, sir. Good to see you’re okay, Lieutenant.”

“Thank you,” the officer said solemnly. “If you hadn’t taken charge, my platoon would have been wiped out.”

“Just doing my job, sir.”

“Can I… can I have a smoke?” the Lieutenant asked.

Hu Hao handed him a cigarette and moved to light it. The officer’s hands were shaking so violently he couldn’t hold the flame still.

“Let me,” Hu Hao said softly, clicking the lighter for him.

The Lieutenant took a drag and immediately began coughing.

“First time?” Hu Hao asked.

“Is it that obvious?” the officer asked, embarrassed. “I’ve never smoked before.”

“Don’t worry,” Hu Hao said with a nod. “You’ll get used to it.”

Meanwhile, at the Division Headquarters, Li Jingsong sat at a table, a cigarette in his own hand. He was coughing too. He didn’t smoke either, but he had just asked his aide for one.

“Commander,” a Brigadier General said, standing by his side with a look of terror. “We have to bring up the 4th and 5th Regiments. If we don’t reinforce now, we won’t survive the next wave.”