The Thirty-Seventh Chapter: The Downfall of Green Tiger 2

  One after another, the piercing whistles pierced through the air from afar and near, the explosive smoke once again covered this small mountain peak. The ears that had already been numbed by the shock no longer reacted, only the originally icy mud water was once again blasted into a hot state, splashing onto the soldiers who were shivering with cold, giving the soldiers wearing mud-soaked clothes a bit of warmth. The originally trembling soldiers tightened their grip on their guns, aiming at the enemy below, while all the hand grenades were placed beside them.

  The enemy, under the cover of smoke and dust from six tanks and many mortar shells, charged again. The anxious British soldiers in the cars on the highway looked out, gazing at the almost flattened hill where the bodies of British soldiers lay scattered, wondering if the Chinese soldiers who had been fighting to the death were still on the mountain, still resisting the British attack.

  As the attacking British troops passed by the bodies of their comrades, they couldn't help but lower their heads, grip their guns tightly, and stare at the position where the Chinese army was hiding. Lieutenant Richard looked at the British corpses on the ground, their intestines blown out, their faces twisted in extreme contortions, and the blood-soaked earth, making his pale face look even more terrifying.

  Richard couldn't help but vomit violently beside a huge rock, while Captain Franklin, who had been walking slowly from behind, patted him on the shoulder and smiled at Richard, saying "Son, take it easy, everything will be alright. Facing death is something every man must face, not to mention in wartime. May God bless you, do your job well."

  Richard's pale face turned around weakly, forcing a smile at his comforting captain, but then he saw the captain's foot stepping on a severed hand with two fingers exposed, still with congealed blood. Richard, who had just felt a little better, turned around and vomited again.

  Leaning against the rock, Richard did not follow the troops up, but instead lit a cigarette, thinking of Prime Minister Eden's broadcast propaganda: "The evil communism has threatened the peace and stability of the free world, they have just invaded the last free place in Northeast Asia - South Korea. So I need you to go to the front line now, defeat the evil communism, and let us liberate the land of freedom."

  Simple-minded Richard had been hooked, but at this moment, facing life and death, he couldn't help but wonder if this war was worth sacrificing so many lives for just a little bit of land? For those vague and intangible ideologies that had nothing to do with ordinary people's lives, all of which were exchanged for the blood and lives of taxpayers.

  The British army slowly advanced, carefully searching for any signs of movement or landmines on the surface and underfoot. Everything was too quiet, too abnormal. If they said that all the enemy had been killed or wounded, it would be unbelievable; if they said the enemy had retreated, it would be unconvincing. The enemy's casualties had already exceeded 80%, yet only the mountain peaks in the sunset continued to emit wisps of smoke. In the fierce fire and smoke, the previous sounds of shouting and killing, explosions and wailing could still be faintly heard as the wind brushed against their faces. The British army's fear grew thicker, slowly moving their feet, perhaps because the painful memories of before were too strong.

  Suddenly, 19 British helmets emerged from the trenches. Before Major Willis could shout for everyone to take cover, a hail of hand grenades rained down on them. The 64-fragmentation "pineapple" grenades gave the British a taste of their own medicine. The blast of the exploding grenades left the British soldiers with nowhere to hide. After the smoke cleared, cries and wails filled the air. The medic's name was called out most frequently. The 19 Chinese soldiers engaged in fierce exchanges of gunfire with the British. Bullets whizzed into the mud, sending up puffs of smoke. As the firefight continued, the ammunition slowly ran out. Although the enemy had been pinned down at the front line and had suffered over a hundred casualties, without ammo for their automatic weapons, they could no longer hold back the enemy. The single-shot rifles were powerless against the increasing number of enemies. The remaining 9 Chinese soldiers tightened their belts, ready to give the enemy a surprise with the hand grenades they had prepared. The enemy gradually surged forward onto the trenches, bayonets fixed on their rifles at the ready.

  Dai Qiming, a lone figure, ran to the top of the giant rock, stood there and blew the copper horn towards the direction of Gangou Valley, blowing the charge repeatedly, as if summoning the spirits of fallen warriors to take up their guns and charge at the enemy. Under the sunset's reflection, the golden silhouette stood proudly in isolation, again and again, the sound of the charge echoed through the mountains of Gangou Valley, stirring up the flames of war in the hearts of the soldiers. The angry roars of the soldiers grew louder and closer, shaking the earth and sky, even drowning out the rumble of tanks. The Chinese people's angry roar was about to return the humiliation of over 100 years ago to that once invincible British Empire. The panicked British army began to flee down the mountain, away from the sound of the Chinese horns, away from these enemies who could not be killed by bombs, and away from their angry roars. Only the earth-shaking cries of "Kill!" pierced through their ears.

  The 117th Division had already blocked the enemy on the east side, the main force of the 116th Division was in the north, the 1st Regiment and the 347th Regiment of the 116th Division were in the south, and the 115th Division was in the west. On the not-so-long road in Fengyuan, British cars that had caught fire filled the streets, and people ran wildly everywhere. The expected battle between British and American tanks did not materialize. The British Royal Regiment abandoned their tanks, artillery, and vehicles, fleeing in all directions, hoping to escape the Chinese army's clutches under the increasingly dark night sky. However, the Chinese military was closing in on them from all sides, and gunfire erupted everywhere. The darkness did not bring good fortune to the enemy. By dawn the next day, the British 29th Regiment's Royal Regiment had vanished from this not-so-long highway. Over three thousand men were lost, with the entire army annihilated. The 116th Division also lost its young division chief of staff and a regimental commander, who shed their blood on this land of green hills and blue waters. Perhaps in the long river of history, they are nameless, but this land remembers them - the 116th Division's Chief of Staff Xue Jianqiang and the 347th Regiment's Commander Wang Fengjiang.

  Affected by the war report, Gaoquan calmed down and didn't say anything. The cigarette in his hand flickered in the somewhat dark command post. Maybe the enemy really ran away and heaven was helping him. Unexpectedly, they had annihilated the British army's trump card unit that cut off their retreat. At this time, Dai Qiming, who had taken out 71 shrapnel from his body at a field hospital, stared blankly at the battlefield still burning and smoking in the distance, staring at the quiet moon.

  At this time, our army had broken through the enemy's defense line all along, and basically penetrated 10-30 kilometers into the enemy's depth. The People's Army defeated the pseudo-first division, the 50th Army annihilated the British Royal Heavy Tank Battalion in Goyang, the 38th, 39th, and 40th Armies broke through to the Uijeongbu line, the 42nd Army attacked almost to Gapyeong, and the 66th Army fought its way to Chuncheon.

  The Final Battle of Korea: Chapter 37 - The Downfall of Green Tiger 2