Chapter 34: Dawn Storm Leads the Vanguard

Chapter 34: The Vanguard in the Dawn Storm

The echoes of the joyous reunion in Maogong seemed to linger, but as the Left Route Army set out, an invisible, stifling pressure began to permeate the air. Wang Lin sat in his saddle, casting a resolute and urgent glance back at the winding, serpentine columns of his "Iron-Blooded Rearguard Tiger Regiment."

"I must break out!" The thought circled in his mind. Memories from the future chimed like a warning bell, signaling the coming storm. He could not alter the grand trajectory of history, but he had to protect this iron-willed force he had forged with his own hands.

Fragments of memory from his previous life hung over him like dark clouds. He knew that the path north they were currently traversing would soon be forcibly reversed southward. A massive internal rift was brewing, and countless loyal Red Army soldiers would pay a heavy price amidst the confusion, conflict, and enemy encirclement. Wang Lin, a man of little stature and low rank, could not change the big picture, let alone prevent the impending tempest.

"But, damn it, I must protect my brothers!" Wang Lin clenched his fists, a flash of determination in his eyes. "This force I’ve worked so hard to build up must not be thrown into the dead end of that meaningless southward march!"

His strategy was simple: Run! Run ahead of the storm!

He approached the Left Route Army headquarters with a grand, unimpeachable excuse: "Report, Commander! My Independent Regiment has finished resting and our morale is high. We’ve been stuck on rearguard duty so long the men are itching for action! The greatest enemies right now are this devilish weather and the treacherous terrain. Reconnaissance and pathfinding are just as critical as holding the rear. I request your approval for our regiment to serve as the vanguard for the Left Route Army. We will cut through mountains and build bridges over rivers; we will clear the obstacles for the main force and scout a safe passage!"

He skillfully avoided sensitive topics, emphasizing only the tactical value of "pathfinding" and implying that wasting his "Tiger Regiment" on the rear was a misuse of resources. At the time, the Left Route Army was strong, with the 5th and 9th Corps more than capable of protecting headquarters. Furthermore, Commissar Zhang was currently projecting goodwill toward the generals of the First Front Army, hoping to secure their support. After a brief discussion, the application was approved.

"Independent Regiment, all officers and soldiers, assemble!" Wang Lin mounted his horse, his voice booming with an urgency that was difficult to detect.

The true advantage revealed itself only then. The "Live Map Pro Max" in his mind was operating at full capacity. Within a twenty-kilometer radius, the undulating terrain, river depths, vegetation density, and even the geological stability were clearly presented in different color-coded layers. Where solid meadows lay, where hidden icy crevasses waited to swallow lives—it was all clear at a glance.

With his strategy set, he had secured the role of "vanguard." Once the order was issued, he immediately convened a regimental meeting to deploy the marching sequence.

"Comrades, the pathfinding mission is arduous and the terrain complex. I will personally lead the reconnaissance company in the lead," Wang Lin pointed to the map, his tone brooks no argument. "Commissar, you will lead the regimental headquarters, the direct support units, and the supply battalion in the center to maintain communication. As for the rearguard..." His gaze swept toward Li Yunlong. "Old Li, you are experienced; you take the rear."

After Wang Lin finished, Li Yunlong spoke, his voice not loud but clear and carrying the distinct, battle-hardened confidence of a veteran commander from the Fourth Front Army:

"Regimental Commander! I have a suggestion—let the new recruit battalion take the lead."

He took a half-step forward, his finger tracing the grass land route on the map, his tone as steady as a tactical report:

"The new recruits are all seventeen or eighteen-year-old boys; they need to hone their skills in actual combat. Pathfinding is better for sharpening a blade than holding the rear—wading through marshes, probing for hidden pits—one march like this and they’ll be tempered into iron!"

He paused, his voice deepening: "The rearguard markings are indeed critical, but Comrade Zhou Zhiming and the Third Battalion are more stable for that. We have an old saying in the Fourth Front Army: 'Pathfinding relies on guts, rearguard relies on precision.' The drive of the new recruits is perfect for the lead!"

Wang Lin, having anticipated this reaction, hardened his face: "Old Li, that is an order! The rearguard is equally important. If the markings are poor and the main force takes the wrong path, how many good soldiers will be sacrificed? Can you bear that responsibility?"

After a moment's thought, Wang Lin conceded the point; with Li Yunlong's personality, he lacked the meticulousness required for marking, and he didn't want to create traps for the main force behind them.

"Fine. Change of plans: Zhou Zhiming and the Third Battalion will take the rear. Their most important task is to leave clear, solid markers on the safe routes we blaze! Stone piles, cloth strips, signposts—make them as conspicuous as possible! Ensure the following troops can see them at a glance and follow our footprints!"

"Yes, guaranteed to complete the mission!" Zhou Zhiming, unlike Li Yunlong, dared not openly defy Wang Lin's orders.

"Old Li, you take the new recruit battalion as the second echelon."

"Commander, I must criticize you. As a commander, you should be in the command position. How about this: I, Li Yunlong, will lead the vanguard for the whole regiment, and you, Commander, take the second echelon. I’ve crossed mountains and rivers since the E-Yu-Wan days; there’s no terrain I haven't walked. My feet are like measuring rods!"

"Old Li, if you don't follow arrangements, I'll have to report to the Corps headquarters that Comrade Li Yunlong is not suited for our regiment's work, is emotionally volatile, and is affecting overall operations. See if Commissar Zhang doesn't immediately transfer you back to headquarters... to keep carrying that cooking pot of yours?" Wang Lin offered a "threatening" smile.

This struck a nerve. These days in the Independent Regiment, Li Yunlong had been drooling over the Czech light machine guns and heavy machine guns of the main battalions, not to mention the rows of mortars in the regimental artillery company. This firepower was much wealthier than when he was a regimental commander! Go back to carrying a pot? He’d rather die!

"Don't, don't, don't! That wouldn't be very friendly!" Li Yunlong immediately put on a smiling face, though it looked worse than a sob.

"Am I the kind of person who doesn't understand discipline? I’m joking, just joking! The second echelon... the second echelon is fine, steady! I obey the arrangement, I obey the arrangement!"

***

After the meeting, the troops set out. Wang Lin personally led the reconnaissance company at the very tip, his "Live Map Pro Max" fully activated, acting like an invisible scanner. He kept the terrain within twenty kilometers—the swamps, the hidden pits—in his mind, constantly adjusting the route.

After half a day, a commotion came from behind. Wang Lin looked back and saw Li Yunlong catching up, having temporarily handed over command of the recruit battalion to the deputy battalion commander.

"Commander, you're not playing fair, using that pot to scare me," Li Yunlong said, sidling up and offering a pouch of tobacco as a "peace offering."

Wang Lin laughed as he took it: "Not scare you? Would you, Old Li, follow orders? What are you doing here?"

"I’m just worried, come to learn how our 'Tiger Regiment' commander finds the way. Don't worry, the deputy battalion commander is managing the troops, it's all under control." Li Yunlong chuckled, but his eyes were constantly scanning the surroundings and Wang Lin's actions.

Seeing his attitude, Wang Lin gave up and let him tag along.

Though Li Yunlong claimed he was here to "learn," his competitive spirit hadn't vanished. He rode half a step behind Wang Lin, his tiger-like eyes wide as copper bells, scanning the seemingly monotonous grasslands and distant mountains.

The first stretch was flat, showing nothing of note. But soon, a large, lush meadow with scattered little flowers appeared ahead, looking almost alluring under the highland sun. Several reconnaissance soldiers instinctively wanted to step forward.

"Stop!" Wang Lin didn't hesitate; his arm shot up, his voice low but piercing. "Everyone stay where you are! First Recon Platoon, use your spears to probe that dark green area on the right!"

The soldiers executed the order immediately. The long bamboo spears plunged into the seemingly fertile meadow; with a gentle stir, black, murky water bubbled up. The spears sank halfway in with ease—there was no bottom!

Li Yunlong's eyes twitched, and his heart skipped a beat. This devilish place was indistinguishable to the naked eye! If Wang Lin hadn't called a stop, the soldiers and the main force behind them would have stepped into a catastrophe.

Wang Lin acted as if it were nothing, not even glancing at the deadly swamp, and turned his horse: "All units, bypass to the left! Follow that yellowish ridge where the grass is shorter!"

The troops followed him. Li Yunlong, half-doubting, stepped onto the "yellowish ridge," and the ground beneath him felt firm and reliable. He couldn't help but look back at the death trap, then at Wang Lin’s back, which seemed to have chosen the path so casually. His mutterings turned to astonishment: "That’s demonic! How did the commander know?"

They crossed a mountain ridge, and two forks appeared. One looked wider, as if a large force had passed before, but it tilted slightly downward into a low-lying area. The other was narrow and difficult, requiring them to climb over loose rocks, but the direction seemed to lead to higher ground.

Several veteran scouts favored the wide path. Li Yunlong also stroked his chin, thinking the big road would save effort.

Wang Lin squinted (what Li Yunlong thought was a casual glance) and pointed decisively at the difficult narrow path: "Take this way! Pick up the pace, we need to cross that mountain pass before dark!"

"Commander, this way is easier..." a scout platoon leader couldn't help but remind him.

"Execute the order!" Wang Lin’s tone was absolute. "That wide road ends in a seasonal riverbed. It looks dry on the surface this time of year, but it's all mud underneath. The mules and horses will get stuck the moment they cross! This path is harder to climb, but it has a hard rocky base. Once we cross the pass, it's a downhill slope. We’ll save at least half a day!"

Li Yunlong was stunned. This was his first time here; how did Wang Lin know what was under the seasonal riverbed? He followed the troops up the rocky slope, half-skeptical. Sure enough, though it took effort, the rocks beneath their feet were hard. By the time they reached the pass, panting, the view opened up before them. A clear, dried-up riverbed lay in the distance below, reflecting a wet sheen in the sunset—clearly not a good place. And as Wang Lin had said, their path became a gentle descent.

"Godlike! Simply godlike!" Li Yunlong couldn't help but mutter to himself, looking at Wang Lin's back with undisguised amazement. This wasn't just luck; it was as if he were walking in his own backyard!

For days, this continued. Wang Lin always found the "path of life" in seemingly indistinguishable meadows; he always chose the gentlest, safest pass in the misty mountains; he always predicted weather changes in advance and found the best campsites, saving the troops from much suffering. The entire regiment, including the unruly veterans, was awestruck by the commander's "miraculous" ability to lead, executing his orders without hesitation.

Li Yunlong followed behind, transitioning from initial doubt and defiance to surprise and curiosity, eventually settling into secret admiration and envy. He was a master of combat, daring and fierce, but this near-prescient perception of battlefield terrain was something he knew he couldn't match. He looked at Wang Lin's back—not particularly burly but always straight—and sighed to himself:

"Damn, this commander really has some strange tricks! When I fought before, reconnaissance relied on scouts risking their lives. Unlike him, one look and he knows where you can walk and where you can't. This is more useful than an extra division of scouts! What is headquarters thinking, putting such a treasure on rearguard duty? What a damn waste!"

He even began to ponder how, once things settled down, he would have to pry this "path-finding" skill out of Wang Lin, even if he only learned a fraction of it. This admiration was genuine—a veteran of blood and fire acknowledging another’s astonishing ability. Though he might never officially admit it, in his heart, this "pretty boy" commander (as he occasionally muttered in private) had won his respect in this unique way.

Thus, a peculiar set of "road signs" appeared on the path of the Independent Regiment: stacked stone piles, bright cloth strips on branches, and simple but clear signposts. These markers not only pointed the way for the main force of the Left Route Army following behind but also greatly reduced non-combat casualties.

Crossing Mengbi Mountain, entering Zhuokeji, passing through Maerkang, turning toward Long'erjia... Wang Lin relied on his map navigation to always choose routes that were relatively easier to traverse and richer in supplies. Though the troops were exhausted, their attrition was minimal and morale remained high. He even used short breaks to have his troops help local Tibetan tribes with chores, using captured silver dollars to fairly purchase highland barley and yak jerky, both supplementing their provisions and leaving behind a good reputation, avoiding unnecessary conflicts.

When the Independent Regiment, as the vanguard of the Left Route Army, arrived at Aba County ahead of schedule, the main force of the Left Route Army should have only just reached Zhuokeji, and the Right Route Army should have only just reached Mao'ergai. The troops rested, but Wang Lin’s heart could not relax for a moment. He knew that Aba, where he had just arrived, would be one of the key points for the massive dispute and split. Even now, the atmosphere between the two armies must be growing tense.

Only by getting out of the grasslands could he avoid being forced to turn south. The Central Committee, which would continue north independently, would definitely keep him; after all, marching north required troops, and the 5th Corps in the Left Route Army was neither suitable nor convenient to be transferred. The Central Committee’s priority was that the entire Red Army not split, and they would not issue orders like Zhang to force the First Front Army units to continue north. But his own unit, which had already arrived, was a different matter entirely.

He could wait no longer! He had to continue forward and break completely out of this pressurized chamber that was about to explode!

He immediately drafted a telegram to the Left Route Army headquarters (cleverly copying the Right Route Army Military Commission, which was still moving north):

"Our Independent Regiment has arrived safely in Aba. The route has been clearly marked, and the main force can follow our tracks with no risk. Our personnel and equipment are in good order, and morale is high. Given that the pathfinding mission for the north has not been completed, and the enemy situation and terrain in the Banyou area are unknown, this unit requests permission to continue the march north, to scout the route through the Ruo'ergai Grasslands to Banyou, and to establish an outpost at Banyou to welcome the Right Route Army leaders and the Central Committee. We are confident in completing this mission and securing a passage north for the entire army! Independent Regiment Commander Wang Lin, Commissar Wang Guangdao."

The telegram was written beautifully, full of proactive enthusiasm and standing entirely on the position of "opening the path for the entire army," without mentioning a single word of political disagreement. Commissar Zhang, currently at his political zenith, would certainly not refuse. Seeing such a telegram, he would actually feel a sense of satisfaction: Look, my Left Route Army troops are already near Banyou! For Commissar Zhang, the Left Route Army arriving first was a small proof of superiority over the Central Committee. My Left Route Army opened the path first—there would be no shortage of credit for him in the ledgers! And for Zhang, who controlled the Fourth Front Army, Wang Lin’s Independent Regiment was too small to care about staying or leaving; having them was useful to stall the Central Committee's repeated orders to move north.

This subtle mindset allowed the risky request to be approved that very day: "Approved. Your unit shall proceed to scout toward Banyou. Be cautious and report the situation along the route in a timely manner. Left Route Army Headquarters."

With the order in hand, Wang Lin let out a long breath and immediately issued the command: "The whole regiment, take one day to rest! Check all equipment! Collect food! Especially highland barley, salt, and fur coats! Supply battalion, fill every container we have with water! Tomorrow at dawn, we move out. Target—the Ruo'ergai Grasslands!"

That day, the Independent Regiment operated like a finely tuned machine. Based on the map and his knowledge of the future, Wang Lin made every preparation he could think of: each soldier carried at least ten days of rations; they made simple rainproof gear and tents from captured oilcloth and animal hides; they collected large amounts of firewood and yak dung; he emphasized drinking boiled water and eating hot food, strictly forbidding the consumption of swamp water; the medical team prepared large quantities of garlic, chili, and whatever herbs they could find to prevent dysentery and miasma.

The next morning, amidst the mist, the Independent Regiment plunged into the vast, boundless Ruo'ergai Grasslands.

It was a green ocean, seemingly flat but filled with deadly traps at every step. Under the bright wild flowers might lie bottomless mud pits, and a single step on the lush meadow could cause black water to seep out.

"Attention all units! Strictly follow my footprints! Those behind must step in the footprints of those in front! Reconnaissance squads, expand your range, use spears to probe the way!" Wang Lin's voice carried far across the empty grasslands.

The "Live Map" became a true guiding light. Wang Lin walked at the very front, his eyes looking forward while his brain processed the map data at high speed, constantly adjusting the direction.

"Veer half a mile to the left! There's silt under that puddle on the right!"

"Halt! There is a large swamp area one kilometer ahead. Detour, take the long grass hill on the right!"

"Set up camp here! The terrain is high and relatively dry, and there’s a small stream nearby for water!"

Every day, they fought against hunger, cold, fatigue, and the omnipresent threat of death. But because of Wang Lin's "third eye," they avoided the most dangerous areas. Every time they set up camp, Wang Lin had the engineer platoon and supply battalion use wooden poles, flags, and even empty crates to set up conspicuous markers, clearly indicating the safe path. He even had literate soldiers write details on wooden signs at key points, such as "Deep silt, detour left 30 paces," "Water safe to drink, must boil," or "Firm meadow, safe for camping."

Wang Lin gazed at the vast grasslands. Regardless of what happened in the future, those who walked this path were the Red Army, the most lovable people. Whether the remaining units of the Right Route Army moved south or marched north later, these markers would greatly reduce casualties. The Fourth Front Army could be said to be the most formidable force in the Red Army, thanks to Commissar Zhang’s iron-fisted discipline combined with Commander Xu’s divine tactical cooperation. This force was, without a doubt, the strongest fist of the Red Army at the time. How he hoped these troops would reach Northern Shaanxi safely, so that the Central Committee might not face the failure of the Western Expedition, and their rooting in Northern Shaanxi might not be so constrained. Of course, there were no "ifs" in this world; what was meant to come would come. Wang Lin just felt a slight sense of melancholy.

After nearly ten days of arduous trekking, enduring wind, hail, and the sacrifice of over a dozen soldiers lost to injury or illness, a different scene finally appeared—the terrain gradually rose, the green swamps turned into golden pastures, and in the distance, they could even see livestock and smoke from cooking fires!

"Banyou! It's Banyou! We've arrived!" A scout ran back to report, his voice hoarse with excitement.

The entire Independent Regiment erupted! Soldiers supported one another, cheering to the heavens; many fell to their knees, kissing the firm, dry earth, tears mixing with rain and mud.

Wang Lin stood on a high slope, looking at the village that symbolized life, then looked back at the vast grasslands that had swallowed countless lives, his heart filled with mixed emotions. He had succeeded! He had brought the main force of the Independent Regiment out of the political whirlpool that was about to explode and had arrived at the rendezvous point ahead of time!

"We... made it," he whispered to himself, his tense shoulders finally relaxing. Though he knew the road ahead remained long and arduous, at least he had preserved the vitality of this force, sparing them the fate of destruction that might have awaited them in the south.

"Immediately wire the Left Route Army Military Commission and the Right Route Army Military Commission: The Independent Regiment of the Red 5th Corps (after the Maogong reunion, the Red 5th Corps had been reorganized into the Red 5th Army, though internally everyone still preferred to call it the Red 5th Corps) has successfully crossed the grasslands and arrived at the Banyou area. The route has been marked in detail. We are resting in place, establishing a perimeter, and arranging for the reconnaissance company to scout the surrounding enemy situation, striving to annihilate the enemy in the Banyou area, and waiting for the arrival of the Central Committee and the main force!"

As the telegram was sent, Wang Lin knew that a new chapter for him and his "Tiger Regiment" would soon begin under the direct leadership of the Central Committee.

He let out a long breath, feeling as though a thousand-catty burden had been lifted. He had successfully jumped out of the whirlpool.

{Historical Narration: In June 1935, the First and Fourth Front Armies of the Red Army successfully reunited in the Maogong area of Sichuan, with a total strength of over 100,000, creating an unprecedented revolutionary force. However, fundamental differences in strategy soon emerged. Based on their assessment of the national anti-Japanese situation, the Central Committee of the Communist Party of China insisted on the policy of "marching north to resist Japan," advocating for the occupation of the Shaanxi-Gansu-Sichuan border to establish a revolutionary base and promote a national anti-Japanese movement. Conversely, Zhang Guotao, the main leader of the Fourth Front Army, advocated retreating to the remote Sichuan-Kang border or moving south to Chengdu, believing it easier to survive and develop there.

To resolve the differences, the CPC Central Committee held a Political Bureau meeting in Lianghekou on June 26, rejecting Zhang Guotao's opinion and formally determining the strategic policy of marching north to establish a Shaanxi-Gansu-Sichuan base. To execute this policy, the Red Army headquarters formulated the "Xia-Tao Campaign Plan" on August 3, deciding to reorganize the Red Army into Left and Right Route Armies to march north together.}