Into Former Battlefields of War of Resistance Against Japanese Aggression: Yangmingbao Night Operation

It was a day in October 1937. The 769th Regiment of the 129th Division of the Eighth Route Army, led by Commander Chen Xilian, was swiftly advancing south along the Hutuo River. Just over 40 kilometers ahead lay Xinkou.

After the outbreak of the full-scale War of Resistance Against Japanese Aggression, Japanese troops pushed deep into northern China, invading Shanxi—the "gateway to North China." They advanced with ease, with their sights set on Xinkou…

Just then, several planes flew overhead. The emblem of the Japanese military—was clearly visible. Likely emboldened by their unchallenged dominance, the pilots flew low, even daring to peer out of their cockpits.

Commander Chen Xilian immediately ordered the troops to take cover. At the same time, he began to analyze: there might be a Japanese airfield nearby. Suddenly, a bold idea struck him.

After multiple rounds of reconnaissance, the suspicion proved right. About ten li (five kilometers) across the river, to the south of the town of Yangmingbao, there was indeed a military airfield—built by Yan Xishan, the "King of Shanxi," but never put to use before being taken over by the Japanese.

"Pull a tooth from the tiger's mouth—destroy the airfield!" Though only 22 years old, Chen Xilian had already survived countless fierce battles, including the grueling 25,000-li Long March. He reported his plan to the higher command.

Commander Liu Bocheng gave a resolute order: "This battle must be fought—and it must be won!"

Chen Xilian understood the implication: not just a victory, but a resounding one. The Japanese needed to be struck hard—shaken to their core.

To secure such a victory, detailed enemy intelligence was essential. Multiple scout teams were dispatched. The reports came back: as many as 24 Japanese planes were stationed at the Yangmingbao airfield! They launched frequent bombing runs on Xinkou and Taiyuan by day, then returned at night. The airfield was guarded by a regiment from General Kōzuki’s division—but most of them were quartered in town. Only about 200 troops stood guard at the airfield itself, and its fortifications were rudimentary.

The Japanese defenses were shockingly lax—testament to their overconfidence.

A surprise night operation at Yangmingbao was thus decided. The counterattack would take place at midnight on October 18.

Battalion Commander Zhao Chongde, known as the “Night Tiger” for his mastery of night combat, led the 3rd Battalion, which was tasked with striking the airfield directly. The 1st Battalion would provide cover and block reinforcements. The 2nd Battalion was on standby, ready to move as needed.

When the local villagers heard the plan to strike the Japanese, they quickly put together dozens of stretchers, fired up with determination.

The soldiers of the 3rd Battalion traveled light. With their mouths muffled and horses' hooves wrapped in cloth, they tied their weapons tightly to their bodies. The early-winter Hutuo River flowed silently; its waters icy and numbing. Wading across under the cover of night, the troops silently approached the airfield…

Closer and closer, the warriors crept into position.

Yangmingbao airfield lay in total darkness and eerie silence. The searchlights from surrounding watchtowers swept the area, cutting sharp white beams across the night.

As midnight neared, Company 10 advanced first. Using pickaxes, the soldiers pried open the barbed wire fence and crawled toward the planes. They were within 20 or 30 meters when a spotlight suddenly swept their way. A Japanese sentry spotted them and let out a shrill cry, followed by a burst of machine gun fire.

The warriors of Company 10 stormed the guard posts. Company 11 followed close behind, heading straight for the aircraft.

"Quick! Toss grenades into the aircraft!" Zhao Chongde yelled. Under a hail of bullets, the soldiers clambered onto the planes and hurled grenades into the cockpits.

Boom! Boom! One enemy aircraft after another erupted in flames. Wind fanned the fire, and the flames spread like a sea across the tarmac.

Battle cries and explosions filled the skies over Yangmingbao.

The Japanese launched a ferocious counterattack. They charged seven times and were repelled each time. To buy time for their comrades planting explosives, our blocking troops engaged in brutal hand-to-hand combat. As their bayonets bent from the ferocity of the fighting, some soldiers picked up explosive packs and rushed headlong into the enemy…

The roar of explosions and raging fire from Yangmingbao alarmed the surrounding Japanese units. Reinforcements rushed toward the airfield. From a distance, the rumble of armored vehicles could be heard.

At that moment, flames burst into the sky from a hill near the Hutuo River—the pre-arranged signal to withdraw.

The night operation at Yangmingbao was a brilliant success: 24 enemy aircraft destroyed, over 100 Japanese soldiers killed. This was yet another major victory after the triumph at Pingxing Pass and the ambush at Yanmen Pass. Commander Liu Bocheng praised it enthusiastically: "Well done! Well done!"

The attack sent shockwaves across the country. People in Shanghai, Yan'an, Taiyuan, and other cities raised funds to support the Eighth Route Army. Even the Military Affairs Commission of the Nationalist Government awarded a reward of 20,000 yuan.

Tragically, over 30 Eighth Route Army soldiers gave their lives on that battlefield. Among them, Battalion Commander Zhao Chongde was fatally shot while covering the retreat of his comrades. He was only 23 years old…

Eighty-eight years later, in the flourishing spring month of April, the Guangming Daily reporting team arrived at Yangmingbao, as part of the "Into Former Battlefields of War of Resistance Against Japanese Aggression" series.

"Look, this was the Yangmingbao airfield back then," said our guide, Liu Kai, now in his 80s and a lifelong educator.

What we saw was an expansive, flat field. Locals told us it now grows millet. There was no trace left of the former airfield. In the distance, hills rolled gently like ink strokes in a Chinese painting—neither steep nor imposing, just quietly stretching away.

We exchanged puzzled glances.

Noticing our confusion, the old man smiled and explained: "After that earth-shaking battle, the airfield was abandoned and became wasteland. It seemed a shame to leave it like that, so local villagers gradually reclaimed it. But still, it couldn't feed them well. During the rural reform era, the land was collectivized—but it was salty-alkaline soil. 'White in spring, flooded in summer, low yield in autumn,' we used to say. Everyone dug and toiled, but got little in return.

"It wasn't until around 1996, with government leadership and united community effort, that over 2.5 million yuan was invested to reclaim the wasteland—building canals to drain salt, digging wells, paving roads, planting trees… The barren wasteland was reborn as fertile farmland—over 2,000 mu (around 330 acres) of productive fields!"

"Years of farmland improvement have made this land bountiful. Whatever you plant, it grows. We used to plant corn, then moved to melons. In recent years, millet fetches a good price, so everyone switched. This spring, the town sent in agricultural experts to guide intercropping of sweet melons and millet—more crops from the same land!" Liu said with pride.

Then, with kindness, he asked: "Are you disappointed that there's no trace of the old airfield?"

"Not at all! Isn't this exactly what the heroes fought for?" We answered together, almost in unison.