The Imperial Mandate - Part 2

Three Days Earlier.

Xinzhou, Xinfu District, Shanxi Province, China.

"Xingle! Xingle! Zhunbei ban chuqu!" Screamed a Kuomintang officer, waking Lieutenant Ono from his deep sleep.
The old decrepit building that once was a school for children was now his home, and the home of the men in his unit. Around him, his comrades were rushing to get their equipment and weapons together.

"Xingle! Xingle!" Screamed the officer again, desperate to wake the soldiers still in slumber.
Ono reached over to the muscular man on his right and began to shake him furiously.
"Takeshi! Takeshi! Wake up! I think were moving out!". He knew Takeshi hated being woken up prematurely, but he was one of the few men in his unit that spoke Mandarin.

"What?" mumbled Takeshi as he slowly woke up. His eyes remaining closed. The heavy set bags under them a sign of his need for adequate sleep.   

"I think were moving out, what are they saying?" Asked Ono.

"Suoyou renyuan dou zuzhi ziji de nanren, bìng zai shi nian fenzhong de jianbao, baogao ying bu!" Shouted the Kuomintang officer

"He's saying that all officers are to organize their men, then report to the battalion headquarters for a briefing".

"Damn them, we just returned from battle. At least it beats returning home in shame" Said Ono. Takeshi nodded and lit up a cigarette. He was a large man,at least six feet tall, battle hardened and brave. He had served under Ono since 1938, they had become quite close, considering themselves each others brother. Takeshi had a large gruesome scar across his face from the shrapnel of an artillery shell, a heavy set beard and eyes as cold as steel.

Ono began to put on his riding boots common to officers of the Imperial Japanese Army. A grizzly lite beard grew from his face, a symbol of his now undisciplined lifestyle as a mercenary.

Soldiers raced around the room, rushing to get their equipment in order, both Chinese and Japanese alike talking and chatting before they were horded off to battle.

A young soldier in a Japanese uniform approached Takeshi and Ono, a Korean flag wrapped around his forehead.

"Hey Ryeekagoon (Rikugun, Captain in Japanese) what going on huh?" Asked the soldier in fragmented Japanese, a large smile on his face.

"Kim, your already to go? Always eager to fight I see" Said Takeshi with a chuckle.

"You know Gyuunsoo (Gunso, Sergeant in Japanese), always ready to kill the Communists yes" Replied Kim.

Kim Jung Hun was a Korean conscript that was drafted before the end of the war and sent to Ono's unit to replace their sniper. He had stayed on with the Lieutenant in the hopes that defeating the Communists would allow the Nationalists to help over throw the Communist regime in North Korea so he could return home to his family in Pyongyang.  

"Kim, go find Gocho (Corporal in Japanese) Ishiwara, and tell him to gather the rest of the men outside" said Ono with authority.

"Yes sir! If I get pass the 'ung-gugeo meongcheongi' (Chinese Assholes in Korean)!" Replied Kim who hurried off.

Takeshi flicked his cigarette and lit up another before he started to put on his boots.

"How can you smoke those Chinese smokes?" Asked Ono who had now started putting on his pistol holster.

"It beats that Indonesian crap we had to smoke in the Army" replied Takeshi.

"What you smoked Gunso! What you smoked!" Ono laughed hysterically.

"Ah yes that's right, you officers got 'gift from Emperor Hirohito' cigarettes didn't you? The benefits of attending  the 'Rikugun Yonen Gakkō' (Imperial Army Academy)". Said Takeshi sarcastically.

Ono was now ready, he slung his Arisaka rifle on his back and tied his elegant Katana to his waist.  

"Alright, I will meet you outside Takeshi".

"Yea, yea" replied Takeshi with a mumble.

Lieutenant Ono walked into the adjacent hallway, he passed some Chinese soldiers fiddling with their Hanyang 88 rifles.
He exited the building out into the street. Ruble and debris lay everywhere from the previous days communist offensive.

A small Isuzu jeep drove past, a high ranking Chinese officer inside. Ono laughed to himself. The irony of the current situation was far too ridiculous to be taken seriously.

Lieutenant Ono took out a smoke, the Imperial Japanese crest on the filter. He put it in his mouth and lit a match. The smoke filled his lungs, the ever great feeling of the days first nicotine hit.

As soldiers and officers hastily ran around the streets, large explosions began to echo in the distance. The deep sound of constant thunder making the ground shake, the ominous sign of things ahead.

Ono just peered into the sky, alone in his thoughts.