lerbook Chapter 53 The 88mm anti-12 gun is the truth!
Chapter 53 The 88mm anti-12 gun is the truth!
One hour.
Chen Zijun gave them a full hour.
The confidence he had built with 50 million pounds gave him the patience to wait.
But for those on the other side of the barbed wire, that one hour is hell.
The old Zha police station was in an uproar.
The phone on the second floor of the police station kept ringing, its shrill rings sounding like it was screaming.
The adjutant picked up the phone, listened for three seconds, and his face turned pale.
"Chief Inspector! At least ten thousand men have arrived outside! Tanks... at least twenty tanks! And those... those cannons that sank the Izumo!"
McGowan dropped his cigar onto the desk, burning a black hole in it.
"Impossible! He just finished fighting the Fengtian Army! The ammunition depot should be empty by now!"
"But, sir... their cannons are already pointed at our gate."
McGowan suddenly stood up, walked to the window, and pulled open the curtains a crack.
He saw it.
A row of tanks was parked on the road outside the barbed wire fence.
The gray-green steel monster crouched quietly in the darkness.
Behind the tanks were densely packed infantrymen, wearing helmets and holding submachine guns, standing motionless.
Like a pack of wolves waiting for their prey to make a mistake.
Further away, four huge anti-aircraft guns were laid flat on the ground, their long barrels like four fingers, pointing straight at the building where he was.
McGowan's legs went weak.
He held onto the windowsill.
"Call Baldwin! Call the Municipal Council! Call the Navy! Anyone will do! Quickly!"
The adjutant dialed the phone, his hands trembling.
The phone rang for a long time before someone answered.
Baldon's voice came through, hoarse and inhuman.
"I understand... I already understand..."
"Your Excellency Consul General! You must immediately dispatch Royal Marines as reinforcements! These madmen will actually open fire!"
There was a three-second silence on the other end of the phone.
"Listen to me," Barton's voice trembled. "The Marines...it takes at least two hours to get from their base to the Old Gate Police Station. Besides..."
He swallowed hard.
"Besides, that guy sank a warship last time with 12 88mm guns... Do you know how many shells he still has?" Do you think our two hundred Marines are enough to fill his stomach?
McGowan's heavy breathing came from the other end of the phone.
"What should we do then?!"
"Give me your life," Baldun said.
The voice was icy cold.
"He wants you, not the concession."
The call was abruptly cut off.
Time passed by, second by second.
Chen Zijun stood on the tank turret and glanced at the Patek Philippe on his wrist.
Fifty-five minutes have passed.
"Young Marshal," Shen Li whispered from below, "What if they don't hand over the hostages?"
Chen Zijun tucked his watch into his sleeve.
"Then let the 88mm gun make the decision for them."
"Young Marshal!" Zang Keping ran up from behind an armored personnel carrier. He had just arrived from Changzhou, and his uniform was still stained with yellowed mud. "The entire Panzer II group of thirty tanks is in position! MG34s and mortars are mounted! We're ready to roll over them at any time!"
Chen Zijun nodded slightly.
"No rush."
He glanced back at the massive, gray-green army surging behind him.
The 1st Regiment of the Tax Police is on the left flank. The 2nd Regiment of the Tax Police is on the right flank. The armored battalion is in the center.
The 88mm artillery battalion was at the very front.
The four cannon barrels, like four iron rods, quietly pointed at the iron gate of the old Zha Police Station.
Chen Zijun's gaze passed over the barbed wire fence and landed on the road surface that was still stained with blood that afternoon.
The bloodstains on the steps of Sincere Department Store had darkened, turning into a black film.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"Time is up."
boom!
The sound of the first tank hitting the barbed wire was like a muffled thunderclap.
The screeching sound of the barbed wire snapping echoed through the night sky.
Then came the second one. The third one. The fourth one.
Thirty tanks lined up in a row, their tracks rolling over a wooden sign that read "No Chinese or dogs allowed."
The wooden sign shattered into pieces.
No one picked it up.
After the tanks rolled over, the infantry phalanx surged in.
The uniform military boots pounded on the asphalt road of the concession, making a heavy, suffocating sound.
Click. Click. Click. Click.
The footsteps of more than 10,000 people merged into a low-frequency resonance like an earthquake.
The British policeman standing by the barbed wire fence was slumped to the ground. His rifle lay beside him, and his lips were trembling.
The Sikh police officer next to him was slightly more rational and raised his rifle.
Bang bang bang!
Three crisp rifle shots rang out in the night sky.
The bullets hit the armor plating of Tank No. 1, ricocheted off, and made a clanging sound.
The tanks did not stop.
The infantry did not stop either.
But the turret of the lead tank slowly turned around.
The 37mm tank gun was aimed at the three police officers who had fired.
Zang Keping's voice came from inside the armored vehicle, cold as iron.
"Give them three seconds to throw the gun."
one second.
two seconds.
Before three seconds had even passed, the three rifles crashed to the ground with a thud.
The tank formation continued to advance.
We drove along Nanjing Road all the way to the old Zha Police Station.
The bloodstains on the road were pressed into two black marks by the tracks.
The neon lights of Sincere Department Store were still on, their red and green glows casting an eerie and glaring light on the tank's gray armor.
The old Zha Police Station. The gate was tightly closed.
There were gunshots inside.
It doesn't open outwards.
The police officers themselves made a mess of things.
Some wanted to surrender. Some wanted to put up a stubborn resistance. Someone grabbed someone trying to escape, and was then shot down.
Chen Zijun's car stopped fifty meters from the entrance of the police station.
He jumped off the tank and stepped onto the blood-stained road.
Shen Li and Zang Keping followed behind him, one on each side.
"88mm gun".
Chen Zijun only said three words.
Zang Keping waved his hand.
The soldiers from all four artillery groups moved at the same time.
They pushed an 88mm anti-aircraft gun to the front entrance of the police station.
The massive cannon barrel passed over the steps and the stone pillars, almost touching the oak door.
The distance between the gun barrel and the door panel shall not exceed three meters.
"Listen up, you people inside!" Chen Zijun's voice wasn't loud, but it carried far on the quiet Nanjing Road.
"I'll count to three. If the door doesn't open, the cannon will fire."
"one……"
The gunfire inside stopped.
"two……"
The door opened.
It wasn't opened by someone; it was kicked open from the inside.
A group of people in police uniforms scrambled out. There were British people, Sikhs, and several Japanese agents.
They knelt in a row, threw their guns on the ground, and covered their heads with their hands.
McGowan was the last one to appear.
His hair was half-undone, his tie was askew, and his face was glistening with sweat.
He did not kneel.
He stood at the door, his legs trembling, but he still tried his best to maintain the posture of a British officer.
"Commander Chen." His voice trembled. "This is armed invasion of the International Settlement! This is a declaration of war against the British Empire! International law..."
He didn't finish his sentence.
Chen Zijun stepped forward and grabbed him by the collar.
McGowan was half a head taller than Chen Zijun, but at this moment his legs were completely out of his control.
Chen Zijun dragged him for twenty steps.
We arrived at the bottom of the steps of Sincere Department Store.
There was a white cloth on the ground.
A person was covered under the white cloth.
The first student with a buzz cut to be shot that afternoon.
Chen Zijun threw McGowan to the ground.
"Kneel down."
McGowan opened his mouth.
"kneel!"
The barrel of the 88mm gun made a dull metallic click behind him.
That was the sound of a cannon being cocked.
McGowan's knees finally gave way.
He knelt down.
He knelt down in front of the white cloth.
"kowtow."
Chen Zijun's voice sounded like it was coming from an ice cellar.
McGowan's forehead slammed against the blood-stained cement floor again and again.
Once. Twice. Three times.
With each knock, soldiers around the area gripped their guns tighter.
Chen Zijun stood to the side, looking down at the British Inspector General who, just two hours earlier, had been giving the order to fire with a cold smile from the window.
"Sixty-seven lives were lost on this street today," he said. "You used your gun to kill sixty-seven unarmed Chinese people."
"Now, kneel before them."
"From now on, all the foreigners in Shanghai will kneel before the Chinese."
He turned around.
Just as he was about to leave, his adjutant, Hu Qiankuan, rushed over.
"Young Marshal! Young Marshal! Baldun called! He said that as long as we withdraw our troops, the Municipal Council is willing to compensate for all losses!"
The adjutant, Hu Qiankuan, held the telephone in front of Chen Zijun.
Chen Zijun glanced at the telephone.
Then he drew his Browning pistol from his waist.
boom!
The microphone was blown apart by a single shot.
The fragments flew all over Hu Qiankuan's face.
"Tell Baldon." Chen Zijun put the gun back in its holster. "From today onwards, I'll be in charge of the rules in the International Settlement."
He had just turned around.
A communications soldier came running from the direction of the armored vehicle, stumbling and almost falling.
"Report to the Commander! Urgent telegram from the Wusongkou air defense tower!"
His face was deathly pale.
"Dense engine roar detected in the sky! Approximately 3,000 meters above sea level! Number..."
He swallowed hard.
"At least thirty! From...southeast! Heading straight for Shanghai!"
Chen Zijun narrowed his eyes.
In the night sky, a low, buzzing sound, like that of a swarm of bees, came from afar.
Getting closer.
It got louder and louder.
Everyone looked up.
Chen Zijun stood on the blood-stained steps of Sincere Department Store, looking at the dark sky to the southeast.
His lips twitched slightly.
"They came quickly."
He turned to Zang Keping.
"88mm gun, elevation 60 degrees. Change to anti-aircraft ammunition."
"yes!"
Hehe, having the 88 anti-tank gun in hand is my greatest source of confidence!
Airplanes? Air raid?
Go talk to my 88mm anti-aircraft gun!