The Rise Of A Billionaire 1943-Chapter 176 - 196: Human Bomb vs. Tank

Oil smoke!

Hundreds of oil wells had been set ablaze, and the fire raged on. Even the millions of tons of stored oil were set alight by the Japanese.

Ten days earlier, after the completion of "Operation Oboe One," the First and Second Reinforced Brigades of the Garrison Forces, along with the Third and Fifth Infantry Regiments and the Second Armored Regiment, landed east of Balikpapan. 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝘦𝓌𝑒𝑏𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘭.𝒸𝘰𝑚

The defenders at Balikpapan were the Japanese Navy’s 22nd Special Base Service Unit and about 10,000 Japanese oilfield workers. Before the landing, American air and naval bombardment provided covering fire, making the landing itself go smoothly. But as the forces pushed inland, they encountered fierce Japanese resistance.

To stop the advance, the Japanese set the oil fields on fire. Flames shot dozens of meters into the air from distant wells, thick smoke shrouded the sky, and the blackness turned day into night.

Yet, even so, they still couldn’t stop the advance of the Garrison Forces.

At this moment, Balikpapan resembled hell itself: red flames, black smoke, and the constant thunder of heavy artillery.

The thunderous roar of the guns tore the Japanese positions to pieces.

"Are the Chinese starting their attack?"

"No! It seems they want to wipe us out with artillery first!"

A bitter smile appeared on Nomura’s face, smeared with oil and soot. They had thought that by setting the oilfields on fire, American planes wouldn’t be able to bomb them. But to their surprise, the Chinese artillery was even deadlier than American air raids. As soon as the attack began, a hail of shells rained down on their defensive lines. After just over ten minutes of devastating bombardment, his battalion had lost more than a third of its men. If this continued, they’d all be killed by shelling before the enemy even attacked.

"If it really comes to it... then let’s die an honorable death here!"

Nomura’s tone was stiff. According to the plan, they were supposed to conduct guerrilla warfare in the jungle for a while, then die honorably—even the battle maps had designated "last stand" locations.

But just like the defenders on Tarakan Island, the Chinese never gave them the chance to die where they’d planned. Instead, they wiped them out in one blow.

When the news first arrived, everyone thought it was just because that guy Jōi was incompetent. But ten days ago, after their first encounter with this "Borneo Garrison Force" made up of Chinese soldiers—especially that night, when Major Ichirō Moriguchi’s banzai charge was blown to smithereens—they had to face the fact: these guys were even scarier than the Australians!

Perhaps dying in place wasn’t such a bad option, at least it meant not having to suffer in the jungle!

Nomura was also eager to know when the Chinese tanks would attack. Maybe then, they could blow up a few tanks!

While dodging the shelling, he saw several members of the "human bomb" squad already itching to jump out and try to destroy the enemy’s tanks.

The thunderous artillery shattered the silence of the world. Across this hellish battlefield, collapsed trenches were everywhere, and countless severed limbs and body parts rained down again and again, only to be blown into even smaller pieces and hurled skyward once more. Bloody, mangled corpses dotted this hellscape.

"..."

Lying in the trench, Nomura’s mouth hung open as he screamed helplessly. His eardrums had burst, and even his eyes were bleeding from the concussions. He felt as if he were on his father’s fishing boat, swaying violently amidst the explosions.

During the bombardment, soft, bloody chunks constantly landed around him. What is hell? Now, Nomura felt that he himself—

He was already in the midst of hell.

The sky was black, the earth was trembling, and the air was thick with the stench of death.

"When will the shelling ever stop?!"

No one could give an answer. For those still alive, the only question that mattered was... when would they die.

"Ah..."

Suddenly, something white fell from the sky onto Nomura’s face, making him scream in terror. Looking closely, he realized it was someone’s severed intestines.

So it was someone else’s guts.

At least it wasn’t one of their own.

At that moment, Nomura noticed the shelling seemed to be thinning out; the barrage was no longer as dense as before.

It had finally stopped... Lying in the trench, Nomura grabbed his rifle.

This meant the enemy would soon be charging in!

Amid the rumbling of artillery, as the 23 Panzer IV tanks of the 6th Battalion, 2nd Armored Regiment roared forward, sunlight pierced through the gaps in the smoke and shone onto the earth.

Although the Panzer IV was already obsolete on the European front, here in Borneo it still rampaged unopposed, with no adversary in sight.

Influenced by their German instructors, like all the other tank commanders, Lin Ping’an would expose half his body from the commander’s cupola even in battle, observing the front while maintaining contact with the column through his throat mic.

"Target, Japanese defensive line straight ahead..."

As the tanks approached the Japanese lines, in the bombed-out trenches and craters, the human bomb squads clutching Type 99 anti-tank grenades stared intently at the advancing vehicles.

The helmeted tank commanders stuck out half their bodies, completely disregarding the whizzing bullets—better visibility meant better command and better results. Suddenly, Lin Ping’an saw a khaki figure leap from a shell hole. Without hesitation, he raised his STG44 to fire, but the infantry covering the tanks from behind unleashed a hail of bullets at the figure. As the infantry’s attention was drawn, several more figures sprang out from another direction.

Some of those Japanese soldiers had rifles, some pistols, and some were even barehanded, all charging at the tanks from all directions.

These guys are insane!

No, wait!

Suddenly, Lin Ping’an noticed that the barehanded ones seemed to have something strapped to their backs—a cylindrical object, one or two feet long and as thick as a thigh. What the hell was that?

Before he could react, one of them dove straight under the tank.

"Boom!"

A tank was actually flipped over by the explosion!

Now Lin Ping’an dared not be careless. He swept his STG44 in a burst of gunfire, while the infantry who had been behind the tanks quickly spread out around them, firing madly at any enemy attempting to approach.

"Yoshi! I told you it would work!"

Nomura shouted excitedly. Because they were navy troops and had few anti-tank weapons, they strapped 25-kilogram aircraft bombs to their backs and launched human bomb attacks. The results were indeed effective.

Faced with such crazed suicide attacks, the armored troops were momentarily thrown into confusion. After all, they had never seen such tactics—some drew fire with their bodies, others became living mines, diving under tanks to detonate explosives.

Not everyone carried aircraft bombs; some wielded turtle-shaped Type 99 magnetic anti-tank grenades. Lying in a crater and playing dead, Hara Ichi listened to the tanks rumbling closer. When they were near enough, he pulled the igniter and hurled the grenade at the tank’s side.

"Thunk!"

Even on the battlefield, the sound of a grenade hitting a tank was crisp and clear.

"Yoshi, got it—"

Before Hara Ichi could celebrate, the magnetic grenade, which should have stuck to the tank’s side, bounced off and landed right beside him.

How could this be... Staring in shock at the jagged coating on the tank’s armor, Hara Ichi didn’t have time to figure it out before a deafening explosion sent him flying, killed by his own grenade. He died without ever understanding what was painted on those tanks. In fact, it was just the so-called Zimmerit anti-magnetic coating, considered useless by the Germans. Though the Germans never encountered magnetic anti-tank grenades in Europe, here the Type 99 magnetic grenade was the Japanese army’s most advanced anti-tank weapon—with predictable results.

Those Japanese soldiers whose grenades bounced off had no chance to retreat—if they weren’t gunned down by the infantry covering the tanks, they were crushed into pulp by the tank treads...