Chapter 27

  There were four Vietnamese soldiers who rushed into the house. One of them was seriously injured and could only hum a few sounds with his mouth, two were lightly or moderately wounded but it was too dark to see where they were hurt, only knowing that they still had some combat effectiveness for the time being. Another one didn't know if he was lucky or of high quality, surprisingly not having any injuries at all... but this just made him walk faster towards death.

  It was I, with evil intentions in my heart, who took his life!

  I crept up on him while the other Viet Cong soldiers weren't paying attention, then covered his mouth with one hand and slid my bayonet into his lung at an angle... This way of killing was something I learned from the old man. The bayonet is inserted at an angle to prevent it from getting stuck in the ribcage, and piercing the lung causes the target's lungs to fill with blood, making them unable to breathe or make a sound. Sometimes I think the old man treated killing as a form of study.

  It's not difficult to do this, after all, we are surrounded by wooden houses, with gunfire and explosions all around, and many bullets piercing the wooden boards above our heads, making a whistling sound. Even if those wounded Vietcong knew that their companions were already dead, it was no big deal, they would be killed by stray bullets anyway!

  It's just that I've never killed an enemy at such a close distance before. Even in close combat, there was always a step between us. But now, to prevent him from making too much movement and noise, I have to hold him tightly from behind... Although I've killed many people, the feeling of his struggle and tremble as he's stabbed, and the last few reluctant spasms before death still make me shudder.

  How ruthless and cold-blooded one must be to ignore someone losing their life in their arms like this. All I knew was that a chill ran from the soles of my feet up to my head, and as I covered my mouth with my hand, I felt his blood spurt out, only to feel my stomach churn with a sense of terror that made me want to flee as far away as possible... But I also knew I couldn't escape or move, because just a short distance away were several wounded Viet Cong.

  Why get rid of the uninjured and only leave the injured? The injured are only concerned with their own injuries, where will they still consider whether the people around them are true or false? Those who are not injured have a very clear head, right? What if they discover some weakness, that would undoubtedly be a chaotic situation... So if you don't kill him, who can you kill?

  Just as I was leading the soldiers into the tunnel, a voice shouted in Vietnamese from inside: "Password..."

  Although I speak Vietnamese, I don't know the password... So this is also something I can't answer. In my heart, I secretly thought that these Vietnamese devils were really cautious, in such an urgent situation they would rather let their comrades wait outside at risk of their lives than casually let people in. Fortunately, I was prepared, so I gave a signal to Knife Scar, and Knife Scar is also a clever person, he quickly understood and carried the wounded towards the tunnel entrance...

  We are indeed fake devils, but these wounded men aren't, so they must know the password to enter the tunnel.

  Sure, here is the translation:

  "Sure enough, the wounded man loudly shouted towards the inside in Chinese: 'PLA!'"

  I couldn't help but feel a sense of shock in my heart: the password used by the devils was actually "Liberation Army" in Chinese.

  But this seems normal too, if in the dead of night, the shouting of passwords by the devils is heard by our Liberation Army soldiers, they would think that someone inside was chatting.

  From this point on, the thoughts of the Japanese devils are indeed meticulous.

  Perhaps this is not something that anyone can think of, but a set of secrecy mechanisms that have been formed naturally over the years of long-term warfare.

  It was soon our turn, I casually picked up the dirty soil with bloodstains on the ground and wiped it on my face, gritted my teeth, and crawled into the pit.

  A foul smell filled the air, and suddenly the space became very cramped. Everything in front of me was pitch black, without a single ray of light. In the darkness, I could only hear someone urging me not to stop, so I had no choice but to move forward in a daze.

  To be honest, I don't like this feeling. It's not because the tunnel is too low and narrow that I have to move forward with my waist bent, but because I completely can't figure out what's going on right now. I don't know where I am, I don't know if my soldiers are following behind me, and I even don't know whether the people in front of and behind me are enemies or friends... At this moment, I feel like I've already lost contact with my comrades and I'm fighting alone!

  I have to admit that I didn't think of this before, which reminds me of a saying by an old man: the difficulties in actual combat are always much more than imagined.

  Following the person in front of me for a long time, I finally saw a glimmer of light ahead. Originally hoping to see the brightness, I suddenly became afraid again, because I was worried that they would find something wrong with me...

  The front is getting brighter and brighter, and finally we arrived at our destination, a resting place of several dozen square meters.

  It wasn't until later that I realized the Viet Cong tunnel was actually composed of countless passages and resting places like this one. The resting places were used to store supplies or for personnel to rest, with some being larger than others depending on the need. Each resting place had several passages leading off in different directions to other resting places, making the entire underground tunnel system seem like a maze...

  Actually, I can already see these from several cave entrances on the habitat, so at this time, I couldn't help but secretly sigh: we simply don't know where these cave entrances lead to, and...we want to find the ammunition depot of the Vietcong in these spider web-like caves...it's undoubtedly like looking for a needle in the ocean.

  After sitting down in the habitat, I took a glance around and found that all the warriors were there, not one was missing, which made my heart slightly more at ease.

  The warriors, intentionally or unintentionally, cast their gaze at me and the scarred man, as if waiting for our orders. But what can be done? Should I capture a Viet Cong soldier to interrogate or have them lead the way? Doing so would only expose our identities without any other effect.

  I cast my gaze at Knife Scar, but from his helpless expression on his face, I could also see that he was equally powerless.

  It wasn't until now that I realized how reckless my plan was, and it can even be said... we didn't even have a clue about the underground tunnel of the devils' lair, yet we rashly charged in, resulting in the current situation where we can neither advance nor retreat.

  The shelter was very crowded, and a single hanging flashlight was the only source of light. Under the dim light, there were all sorts of people, including soldiers and civilians, men and women. The air was very thin, perhaps because of this reason, people in the tunnel didn't speak much, except for a few wounded who occasionally let out a groan or cough. However, this suited me just fine, as I had been worried that my inability to speak Vietnamese would give me away!

  What should I do next? This question once again intruded into my mind, and it was clear that this place was not a place to stay for long. The longer I stayed here, the greater the possibility of being discovered by the Viet Minh.

  Are there any other troops? Don't they know how to sneak in? Are we supposed to contact them first? But I soon remembered that the devils needed a password when entering the tunnel, which means... They probably couldn't sneak into the tunnel at all.

  It's clear that we can only rely on ourselves now, but I have no idea what to do in the face of this situation. Adding to my fear and the suffocating air, I've thought about grabbing a gun and firing randomly several times already.

  But in the end I still controlled myself, because I knew that doing so would only result in our entire army being wiped out. I still have ten soldiers under me, and I need to take them back!

  At this time, my gaze fell on several female soldiers who were bandaging the wounded with first-aid kits. They caught my attention because... most of the Vietnamese troops in the tunnel didn't have first-aid kits, which I had discovered from their corpses yesterday, so we hadn't brought many down here either.

  At this point, I didn't think much about it before. I just thought that the Vietnamese were poor and couldn't even afford shoes, so how could they have first aid kits? But thinking about it now, it seems a bit off. First aid kits should be military supplies, and this stuff can directly affect the combat effectiveness and morale of troops. Who would want to wait for death on the battlefield due to some minor injuries that aren't fatal? So when the Soviet Union was providing firearms to the Vietnamese army, they should have also provided first aid kits! Now those female soldiers are using first aid kits to treat wounded soldiers, which proves this point.

  So why don't they carry it with them? There is only one reason, their first aid kit is not enough, after all, there are many civilians in this tunnel besides soldiers.

  What is the solution to the shortage of first aid kits? That is to concentrate the use of first aid kits, and apply them to those who need them most. Where will they concentrate the first aid kits?

  I almost got excited to the point of shouting: undoubtedly, they would concentrate the first-aid kits in a relatively safe place, which was very likely to be a warehouse for storing food or ammunition.