The expeditionary force began to dominate Southeast Asia by recruiting defeated soldiers

Chapter 415: Battle of the Lion City Governor's Mansion (1) Mid-Autumn Festival

The sky was overcast and drizzling. A cool breeze, rare in Southeast Asia, blew in from the Strait of Malacca, passing through the streets and scorched earth torn by war, passing through the trenches and machine gun positions, and passing through the iron-blooded "Hua" military flag hanging high above the headquarters of the 1st Marine Corps of the People's Army.

The broadcaster turned on the radio receiver and raised the antenna high. This entire set of equipment would convert the received analog electrical signals into sound through the connected wires and play them out through the electric loudspeaker.

Whether at the front or in the rear, countless such devices were turned on and countless electric loudspeakers were hung high to ensure that the sound could be transmitted to every position of the Anmin Army.

In the distant city of Yangon, in a broadcasting room of the newly built broadcasting building of Zhangchi Station, he was wearing a neat gray-green military uniform and had a stern expression. He has always been an emotional person, but not promiscuous.

And today is Mid-Autumn Festival, and he knows that tens of thousands of ears are waiting for his voice.

He picked up the microphone, his voice slightly deep, but clear and powerful:

"Dear brothers and sisters, dear soldiers and comrades fighting on the front lines, I am Zhang Chi."

"Today is the 15th day of the eighth lunar month, the traditional Chinese festival - Mid-Autumn Festival. Normally, this day should be a time for families to gather around the table, eat mooncakes, admire the full moon, and reunite. But at this moment, many of our brothers are shouldering their guns, facing the enemy, guarding the trenches, and squatting in their battle positions."

Through radio signals, the sound of Zhang Chi reached the ears of every soldier on the battlefield, the ears of the armored soldiers in the tanks, the ears of the pilots in the sky, and the ears of the sailors on the warships at sea...

"Brothers, I know you miss home. You're thinking about your mothers, your wives, your children, and maybe even your pigsty and those ten acres of paddy fields. Maybe some of you won't even have mooncakes tonight, and some officers are giving away their cigarettes and chocolates to prevent the new recruits from crying... I know all this."

He paused, and the noise on the other end of the phone seemed to quiet down.

"I also know that if this war continues, there may be some people tonight who will never see their families again. There will be no chance to reunite with their loved ones. Your family may lose a good son, a good husband, a good father..."

"But brothers, why are we fighting this war? Why are we giving up family reunions, saying goodbye to our loved ones, and shedding our blood?"

"It's to allow more people to be reunited, so that our children, our next generation, no longer have to kneel and sing Japanese songs, no longer be forced to do forced labor, no longer be bullied, and no longer be dragged into target practice just for a mouthful of rice!"

"You are now in the Lion City Governor's Mansion. Kenji Doihara is holed up there, setting up numerous defenses in a desperate attempt to fight a cornered battle. The land you stand on was once a colony of the Johns, a hunting ground for the Japanese... and a city built by the hard work and sweat of countless Chinese and overseas Chinese!"

"Brothers, we have reached this point, and this is the final step! Today, the infantry, artillery, armored troops, and pilots are all in place."

"I don't force you all to be heroes, but I hope everyone can remember: behind you are your home, your nation, and the millions of families waiting for the Mid-Autumn Festival and looking forward to reunion. For them, please fight bravely and drive the enemy away from our homes, away from everyone's homes—far away!"

"I'm done. All units will immediately enter combat mode. In thirty minutes, the full-scale offensive will begin."

The radio signal disappeared in an instant, and a trench on the front line fell into a brief silence.

After a moment, the silence was broken. An old soldier took out a harmonica from his pocket and quietly played a tune from his hometown.

At this moment, in all the divisions, regiments, and combat command posts of the Anmin Army, there were brief bursts of silence in front of all the radios, walkie-talkies, and radio stations.

-----

Inside the headquarters bunker of a regiment of the 3rd Infantry Division, Qi Quan, dressed in military uniform, looked at the regimental commander in front of him.

"Colonel Yu!"

"Here!" The colonel immediately stood at attention and saluted.

"Your group will be the main attacker this time. Do you have confidence?"

The top leaders had come to the front-line command center in person. Colonel Yu was naturally excited and his face was flushed. He shouted loudly: "Yes!"

"Well, you are worthy of being my follower since the 64th Regiment. This is the energy that can even twist Doihara's head off!" Qi Quan looked at this old subordinate of his when he was in the 64th Regiment of the National Army, and he became more and more satisfied.

Then, Qi Quan stretched out his hand, and an orderly immediately put a folded military flag in his hand.

"This is the military flag signed by Commander-in-Chief Zhang. I'm handing it over to you now. Your mission is to tear down the plaster flag atop the Governor's Mansion and hang this up here. Do you understand?"

Colonel Yu took the military flag with both hands: "Report! Ensure the mission is completed! As long as we are here, the flag will be there!"

“Even if the people are gone, the flag must be there!”

-----

At the front line of the 1st Battalion, a regiment of the 3rd Infantry Division, a young communications soldier clicked off his radio, fought back tears, and cursed softly, "Damn it! Commander-in-Chief Zhang's speech was brilliant."

"Hahahaha!" Li Wenbin, the deputy platoon leader beside him, held his binoculars without turning his head. "Little one, are you missing home? Why are you secretly wiping away tears?"

Since the platoon leader was injured and evacuated in the previous attack, it was now the young deputy platoon leader who temporarily took on the duties of platoon leader.

"I'm not crying! The wind blew it into my eyes..." The signalman turned back angrily, only to see the squad leader skillfully opening a pack of mooncakes he had received from the logistics department, tearing off the oil paper, and handing him half of the mooncake.

"Come on, little one, it's Mid-Autumn Festival, have something sweet, and then follow us old men to rush forward!"

Taking into account the different places of origin of the soldiers, Zhang Chi specifically instructed the logistics department to purchase all kinds of mooncakes, including those from the north, the south, Suzhou, Cantonese, five-nut, and red bean paste, and send them to the front line.

But once you get to the front-line trenches, it all depends on fate what mooncake each soldier gets.

"Thanks."

The signalman took the mooncake, took a bite, and while chewing the red bean paste filling in his mouth, he muttered, "It's so sweet. I just miss home, the lotus root clips my mother made, and the dried radish fried by my sister..."

"Don't overthink it. The more you think, the faster you'll die." Li Wenbin raised his hand and whispered, "Pass the word. All classes, prepare for battle. Lao Wang, your class will be the vanguard!"

As he was speaking, a voice suddenly came from the walkie-talkie carried by the signalman, and the little guy answered it immediately.

"Platoon sergeant, the company headquarters has sent an order asking us to protect the flag guard squad..."