That bloodthirsty madman. He’d get his, so long as Tom managed to reach the 19th Route Army in time. Tom ran, fear and anger propelling him faster. Up ahead, the North Railway Station came into view, looming above the rest of Chapei’s squat buildings. It was now a magnificent fortification, surrounded by barbed wire, sandbags and mounted machine guns, supplemented with dozens of armed Chinese soldiers. Most majestic of all was the red and blue flag fluttering in the chilly morning breeze, stamped with the White Sun of the Kuomintang – the standard of the Chinese Republic.
Tom tore into his jacket pocket and whipped out a white handkerchief. He waved it to and fro as a token of peace. The Chinese soldiers remained at their defensive positions, but beckoned Tom forward. Just a few hundred feet and he’d be home free. Screeching tires from behind jerked him around. The Mercedes had broken through the massacred heap and was roaring toward him. Feng Lung-wei, his face contorting with hate, leaned out of the passenger window, and leveled the Tommy gun.
“Sha!” he screamed again as the Tommy gun cackled, blasting an endless stream of fire and bullets. Tom dove onto the ground and covered his head with both hands. The Mercedes kept coming, closer and closer, and the Tommy gun blazed away in an endless, earsplitting rat tat tat.
Suddenly, a new symphony of gunfire burst out and slammed into the oncoming Mercedes with such tremendous force, the automobile erupted in hundreds of small explosions. The Chinese soldiers fired a wall of lead that tore through the Mercedes, shattering windows, tearing out chunks of metal, and shredding the tires to tatters.
The conflagration devoured the car, like a ravenous monster, before spitting it back out. The heavy hammering of gunfire ceased, leaving Tom dazed, numb, and almost deaf. He watched as the Mercedes – now a twisted hunk of scrap metal – skidded off the street before smashing into a nearby building. Other than smoke billowing from its engine, the car was rendered inert.
Still clutching the white handkerchief, Tom rose and made his way toward the wreckage. Through the shattered glass window, he could see Feng’s henchman – or what was left of him – slumped over what remained of the steering wheel. Bullets had torn golf-ball sized holes out of his beefy face, reducing him to a pile of red jelly.
Tom walked around to the other side and found Feng Lung-wei hanging prostrate out the side of the passenger door. Or rather, he thought it was Feng. He’d suffered some nasty wounds in the past few hours, but now the gangster brat no longer looked human. His pin striped suit was ripped to shreds, and his torso clung together by only a thin strip of flesh since the volley had almost sawed him straight in half. His face had been pulverized into a thick, bloody pulp, robbing Feng Lung-wei of any defining features. Even his big ears had been blown clean off, reduced to specks of gory flesh that trailed behind the Mercedes.
Funny enough, he still clutched that Tommy gun in what remained of his fingers. Tom inspected the weapon, but realized it too had been fatally wounded. In his peripheral, he became aware of Captain Tung approaching.
“Lai Huang-fu, what are you doing here?” he cried in disbelief. Tung Hsi-shan looked magnificent in his blue-gray tunic, jackboots, and field cap – the modern Chinese warrior.
Tom sucked in a deep breath and answered, “Taking you up on your offer. I’m here to join your company, Captain.” To show his sincerity, Tom stood at attention. A warm glow shone on Tung’s face, before souring.
“Who were these two?”
Tom glanced back at the two mutilated corpses. If he survived this war, his life would become even more complicated if Tu Yueh-sheng discovered he was responsible for Feng’s death. Whether or not the Grandmaster of crime hated his despicable bastard son, familial ties were strong in China and would demand retribution. Tom searched for a placating answer.
“One of those Japanese ronin,” Tom said, pointing at what was left of Feng Lung-wei, before jerking at thumb at the remains of his henchman. “And some Chinese riff-raff he hired.”
Captain Tung sneered. “We’ve heard reports of ronin attacking our forces. At least these two won’t cause us anymore trouble.”
Tom smiled. “Happy to help the cause, Captain.”
They retreated back inside the fortifications and into the main courtyard of the North Railway Station.
“Have the Japanese attacked yet?”
Captain Tung nodded. “Twice, but we beat them back. Didn’t we, men?”
A cheer arose from the entire company. With defenses like this, maybe they’d win the war after all. Captain Tung went into the main railway terminal, then returned carrying a field cap and rifle.
“Sorry, we don’t have any spare tunics and pants. But this will identify you as one of us,” Tung said, handing the field cap over.
Tom examined it – a simple, blue-gray design, decorated with a blue and white Kuomintang sun badge. Nothing flashy, but he couldn’t suppress a deep inner pride as he removed his fedora and tucked it on his head. Tom accepted the rifle and gripped it with both hands.
“Still remember how to use one of those?” Tung asked.
“I never forgot, dai go.”
They shared a smile, a brief respite of friendship before the approaching inferno.
“What changed your mind, Lai Huang-fu?”
Tom gave the question some thought. Charles Whitfield was dead and so was Yan Ping. Mei-chen was gone and Club Twilight was a smoldering ruin. All that was left was Shanghai. Tom Lai didn’t run from a fight. Not from the Green Gang, not from the Japanese Empire. This was his home, and he’d stop anyone from burning it to the ground. However he reinvented himself after this, it would be in Shanghai.
“This city has been awful good to me,” Tom answered. “I’m going to pay her back.”
Captain Tung nodded and smiled warmly at his surrogate little brother. Before he could respond, a soldier cried out, “Incoming enemy! Incoming enemy!”
The soldiers in the courtyard grabbed their weapons and took up positions around the perimeter. Tom and Captain Tung ran over to the section overlooking Woochen Road. Past the shattered Mercedes, past the mangled pile of corpses, a horde of Japanese Marines approached, led by not one, but three armored cars. In their white gaiters and steel helmets, and clutching bayoneted rifles, the Mikado’s warriors never looked more fearsome. Tom had a newfound respect for how hard the Nipponese fought, but he and Captain Tung would show just how tough Chinese soldiers were.
Tom looked around at the steely-faced troops of the 19th Route Army, waiting in silence for the enemy. The machine gunners took aim but held their fire. Others kept the rifles trained, still as statues. Captain Tung drew a Mauser pistol from his holster and crouched down over a sandbag. Tom knelt beside him, angling his rifle into position. The Japanese had moved past the pile of bodies, the rumbling armored cars leading the advance. They would be upon them any minute now, but Tom knew there would be no more running.
Here in Shanghai, Tom Lai would stand and fight, no matter what. He took aim and opened fire.
Afterword
Shanghai Twilight is set during the run up to the 1932 Shanghai War, known in China as the January 28th Incident and in Japan as the Shanghai Incident. Tom Lai, Ho Mei-chen, Yan Ping, and Feng Lung-wei are all fictional, but Tu Yueh-sheng was a real historical figure. As the Grandmaster of the Green Gang, Tu ruled Shanghai’s underworld until the Communist takeover in 1949. Tu had many children, some legitimate and some not, so I created Feng Lung-wei as his nephew/illegitimate son in order to have some dramatic license.
Charles Whitfield, Chow Chun-wah, and Captain Tung Hsi-shan are also fictional, but Chiang Kai-shek, Wang Ching-wei, Mayor Wu Tieh-cheng, and General Tsai Ting-kai were all historical figures who played large roles in the 1932 Shanghai War.
Jiro Fukuzaki is also fictional, but there were real cases of intrigue which led to the outbreak of war in 1932. Most famous is the case of Major Ryukichi Tanaka and his mistress, the Manchu Princess Aisin Gioro Xianyu aka Yoshiko Kawashima. They exploited the very real anti-Japanese
boycott and sentiment in Shanghai in order to precipitate a conflict within the city. The reasoning for this was threefold.
1) The Japanese Army wanted to distract international attention away from Manchuria, where they were launching the final offensive against Harbin.
2) To punish the Chinese for allowing the anti-Japanese boycott to hurt Japan’s economy.
3) The Japanese Navy were eager to show off their fighting prowess after sitting on the sidelines during the Manchurian Incident.
Tanaka and Kawashima paid a gang of Chinese thugs to assault a group of five Japanese Buddhist monks to exacerbate tensions. One of the monks died, which gave the Japanese Navy more incentive for military intervention. In the end, Mayor Wu accepted all the Japanese demands, but citing violence against Japanese citizens, the commander of Imperial Naval Forces in Shanghai – Admiral Shiozawa – launched an assault into the district of Chapei on January 28th, 1932.
The Chinese Nationalist Army unit in Shanghai – the 19th Route Army – fought hard and eventually almost annihilated the Japanese Marines. They were forced to request the Imperial Army for help, which arrived in late February 1932. With their increased strength, the Japanese launched a counterattack, forcing the 19th Route Army to evacuate Shanghai on March 3rd, 1932. The League of Nations soon mediated a ceasefire. The international community was shocked, but did little to aid China.
Although the war was brief, it nevertheless had a lasting impact. It was the first conflict that had bombers attack large civilian areas, urban warfare, and set the stage for further tension within Shanghai.
Thank You
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About the Author
Matthew Legare has always loved reading, writing, and history. He’s combined his passions to tell stories set during little-known, but fascinating, events of the past. His style is a smooth blend of old pulp magazines and contemporary thrillers, which makes for a pulsating read.
Matthew would love to hear from his readers! Please contact him at:
Website: https://matthewlegare.com
Twitter: @mlegareauthor
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