Chapter Twenty-Two

  That night's dinner was a bit different, the logistics team brought some compressed biscuits, so we didn't have to eat canned food anymore.

  The compressed biscuits come in two flavors: plain and chili salt, with four pieces per pack, each weighing 125g. It is said that this biscuit contains very rich nutrients that have a significant effect on maintaining human bodily functions, can increase energy and reduce hunger.

  I chose the pepper salt flavor, although the white flavor is better to swallow and doesn't require drinking more water. However, I know that after sweating a lot, you need to replenish your salt intake, otherwise you'll feel weak all over and can't handle the next march or battle.

  Don't think that these compressed biscuits are rewards for our hard work. According to our military tradition, only after winning a battle do we have the privilege of enjoying rewards. If we lose... then we must accept criticism and self-reflection! Our superiors don't care how many people you sacrificed or how bravely you fought.

  Fortunately, this battle was not a complete defeat for us. I think this is also the reason why our superiors have not yet come to a conclusion and our soldiers can still maintain their morale.

  So I couldn't help but show off a bit... What would this squad do without me? Your class leader isn't just for show!

  Why is there still compressed biscuits to eat?

  First of all, these biscuits were not good things to begin with. They were originally issued to every branch of the army, but because my unit had a river-crossing mission, they generally carried "iron coffins" that were not easily dampened.

  "Canned goods" is the nickname given by warriors because those cans are long and look like a coffin, plus every warrior feels that half of their body has entered the coffin, so they have a feeling and call it "iron coffin".

  Secondly... we have these compressed biscuits to eat only because our superiors want to make this old street a transit station between the front line and the rear.

  The old street is a transportation hub, isn't it?

  As a transportation hub, it means that there are various highways, railways and mountain roads leading to the front lines in all directions. Therefore, storing strategic materials here is the best strategy, which can facilitate the timely transportation of ammunition, food and other supplies to the front line by logistics troops.

  In other words... it's not just compressed biscuits that will be transported to the old street, but also various supplies and ammunition will follow.

  As the garrison troops stationed in the old street, this can be said to be our welfare, because we don't have to worry about the problem of insufficient supplies. But it can also be said that it is our nightmare, because it means that we will become the focus of the Viet Minh's attack.

  "Hey, comrades!" Just as my fellow soldier and I were swallowing a mouthful of crackers and water, the old cook came up, sweating profusely, carrying two baskets and excitedly shouted at us: "Comrades... freshly steamed buns are here!"

  As he said that, he lifted the lid and immediately a fragrance wafted out.

  "Wow..."

  With a cheer, the warriors surged forward, rushing up and grabbing with outstretched hands.

  The old class leader hastily waved his hand at us: "Slow down, slow down...... line up and come one by one......"

  "Old class monitor!" Knife Scar asked somewhat strangely: "Where did you get this mantou from?"

  "This is it?" The old squad leader casually pulled down the towel hanging from his neck and wiped his sweaty face: "A truckload of flour was transported up, I thought that the soldiers hadn't had a hot meal for a long time, so I used my connections to get two bags, and found a pot in a Vietnamese civilian's house to steam buns..."

  "You've got it...". The scar-faced man wanted to say something else, but the rest of his words were all blocked by the steamed bun in his mouth.

  I couldn't resist the temptation of the fragrance either, so I took two and hastily stuffed them into my mouth...

  People who eat hot meals at home every day cannot feel the pain of filling their hunger with canned food like us. When they finally get to eat a steaming hot and fragrant bun... it's like returning home and reuniting with loved ones. Some soldiers are reluctant to eat, yet worry that the heat will dissipate, so they carefully cover it with their hands and savor it bit by bit.

  Looking at this, the old squad leader sighed and said: "We all went through the Ghost Gate Pass, but we couldn't even eat a hot meal. The most pitiful are those comrades who sacrificed themselves, they didn't even get to eat a steamed bun before leaving..."

  The warriors were all stunned by these words, some of the warriors thought of the comrades who had just sacrificed, and tears flowed down in an instant. They wanted to cry loudly, but their mouths and hands were full of buns, so there was a "Wu Wu" sound everywhere. A vague sobbing sound...

  The sun sets in the west, and the remaining glow reluctantly shoots out from the treetops, dyeing the white clouds crimson and the green mountains also crimson. The whole world seems to have fallen into a red dye vat and rolled around in it.

  At this moment, the reader sat on the mountain top again, quietly took out his harmonica and blew it with the wind.

  It's just a farewell song.

  Listening to that slightly melancholic and desolate melody, the warriors unconsciously hummed along:

  "Outside the Long Pavilion, beside the ancient road, fragrant grass stretches up to the sky"

  The evening wind blows through the willows, the sound of the flute is faint, the sunset is outside the mountains.

  The ends of heaven and earth, the corners of the land, knowing friends are scattered and fallen.

  Life is short and reunions are rare, but farewells are many

  ……”

  With the fading of the song, are the warriors' longing and the gradually departing sunset...

  I thought the Vietnamese army would give us a little break tonight, after all, neither side has gained an advantage in the battle, right? According to my thinking, if so, it's better for both sides to take a short rest...

  But the battlefield is always the battlefield, and the enemy will never act as we wish, and the situation will not always develop as we imagine.

  With a loud "boom" of an explosion, a three-story wooden-brick mixed building in the school suddenly collapsed.

  I and the warriors were soon awakened, although most of us didn't sleep at all under the mosquito bites, but still managed to grab our guns in no time and enter combat mode.

  Gunfire soon rang out...... However, I think these were some nervous soldiers firing wildly, because I didn't see any enemy and didn't hear the enemy's cries.

  "What happened?"

  "Are the Japanese coming to launch a surprise attack?"

  ……

  I heard people around me keep asking questions, but I didn't say a word.

  Because I knew at this time no one would know what happened, and asking was useless anyway.

  The warriors were not unaware of this, they knew that asking would not yield a result, but they still asked because the fear in their hearts needed an outlet, hoping that someone could give them a satisfactory answer to calm their minds.

  "No big deal!" Dao Ba said with a relaxed tone: "Who knows, maybe some careless comrade accidentally pulled the pin on a hand grenade, and this house of devils can't withstand explosions, it just collapsed like that."

  Although this answer is unreasonable, it can temporarily stabilize the military's mind, so the soldiers quickly calmed down.

  "Comrades, attention!" Knife Scar continued to say: "Don't run around randomly, and don't fire randomly. This dark and messy place... who knows, you might end up shooting your own people as if they were Vietnamese devils, or get shot by your own people as if you were a Vietnamese devil! Do you understand?"

  "I understand!"

  "I understand!"

  ……

  I find it strange that Dao Cuo, a very experienced leader in my opinion, has abilities far surpassing those of Lian Zhang and even the battalion commander. Plus, he's been a soldier for quite some time now, and the scars on his face prove his bravery in battle... so why is he still just a small squad leader?

  Of course, this is not something I need to worry about.

  What I need to worry about now is actually very simple, which is whether I can survive and walk out of this battlefield.

  After more than ten minutes, the gunfire finally stopped. From this point on, it can be seen that some of our troops are not suitable for participating in battles. Because of last night's experience with Vietnamese special agents disguising themselves as our soldiers to cause trouble, the higher-ups issued a strict order before nightfall today not to fire randomly... but it is clear that this order did not have the desired effect.

  After a period of urgent communication, the troops finally figured out the situation: a warehouse storing food and supplies in the northeast corner was raided by the Vietnamese army, who quietly took down the sentries guarding the warehouse and then detonated explosives inside... As a result, the logistics troops had been busy for nothing all day.

  "Class Monitor!" The bookworm sitting next to me frowned and said, "Something's not right, how does the Japanese devil seem to know our situation so clearly?"

  "Right!" A small stone nearby chimed in: "As soon as our troops left the camp, we were ambushed by the Vietnamese devils. It's as if they knew our route."

  "Especially tonight!" The bookworm leaned in closer to me: "It's said that... the logistics troops, in order not to let the Vietcong discover where the grain was stored, specially chose to unload the grain after dark, but still got bombed by the Vietcong with pinpoint accuracy!"

  "Really?" I replied skeptically.

  I've long heard from the old man that there are a large number of Japanese spies infiltrating our military units.

  There are two reasons for this. Firstly, Vietnam and our country have a period of comradeship and brotherhood, and many Vietnamese military officers were directly trained in our army's military schools, so there are not a few people in the Vietnamese army who can speak fluent Chinese.

  The second is that our military's enlistment review was too lax. Like me, I just registered my hometown and name at the beginning, and then joined the army in a muddle, with many soldiers even sacrificing without knowing where they were from or what their names were.

  It's natural to think that if I can enlist like this, then those Vietnamese who speak Chinese will also be able to enlist in the same way.

  "This time it's not just a matter of annihilating the enemy!" At some point, Knife Scar said beside us: "The high grounds around Old Street are all garrisoned by our troops, barbed wire and landmines have all been laid out... I asked them, they all say everything is normal and no Viet Cong were found passing through, but the warehouse was still blown up by them. No one knows how these Viet Cong got in!"

  At these words, I couldn't help but feel a chill in my heart and said: "What if... this ghost isn't from outside?"