The First Shot (4)

  After this, whatever Ding Ruogang agreed with, Chen Zizhong would definitely oppose.

  Ding Ruo just didn't know what to do, so he said let's sing the Volunteer Army song instead, with a heroic and majestic air... Chen Zizhong interrupted him, saying change to an old song, I'll start, go behind enemy lines, drive out the devils, go behind enemy lines, drive out the devils, take a detour and launch a surprise attack...

  The warriors laughed, it's been years since they sang this song, and they felt a little strange. They sang with their throats suppressed, and the blood in their bodies naturally boiled up.

  Chen Zizhong did not expect the first battle of the guerrilla team to come so suddenly. The third guerrilla detachment left the main force and rushed overnight to the designated combat area, preparing to establish a secret base, but unexpectedly encountered American troops on the way.

  At night, the strong wind howled and the big snow fell with the wind, wrapping people into cotton balls. After rushing for several hours in the strong wind and heavy snow, Chen Zizhong ordered his troops to take shelter from the wind at a cliff, and after the wind and snow stopped, the vanguard soldiers reported that there were an unknown number of American soldiers on the cliff.

  "Are they American devils, not Korean army?" Chen Zizhong became excited, rubbing his big hands non-stop, the calluses on his hands seemed to be grinding out sparks.

  "Blue eyes, big nose, must be an American devil. When the sentry devil lit a cigarette, I saw him clearly and really wanted to shoot him, but he ran away."

  "Damn it!"

  "The number of enemies is unknown, it's too risky to do so." Park Dong-ming had doubts.

  Ding Ruogang had already observed the terrain in the snowy color: "The mountain top area is not large, and at most it can accommodate a company for camping."

  Chen Zizhong was excited to encounter isolated and helpless American troops in the mountains far from the front line, which was no different from delivering fat meat to his mouth. When he personally reconnoitered, he saw that the carbines of the two American sentries had bayonets attached. Since arriving in Korea, the Sharp Knife Regiment had clashed with South Korean troops carrying Taeguk flags and heavily armed American troops many times, but had never encountered an enemy who dared to engage in close combat, and the soldiers were eager for a fight.

  The night sky was like a gigantic military pot lid covering the top of one's head, so black that it made people gasp for breath.

  The sentry must be a veteran with rich battlefield experience, because the sentry post is set up in an open area behind the trenches, where the ground is covered with fine ice needles, and on top of that is a layer of snow. If you step on it lightly, it will make a piercing sound.

  If it weren't for the two sentries arguing loudly over a copy of Playboy, Chen Zizhong and Hou Kuai would not have had such an easy time. They took advantage of the distraction to sneak up, and with a few swift blows from Hou's chopper-like weapon, the two sentries' heads were smashed open, leaving a pile of colorful paper scraps and a few US dollars scattered in the bloodstained area.

  The warriors in three rows of bayonets approached the mountain top in a fan shape, wearing cotton-padded jackets and Liberation rubber shoes, which were so shabby compared to American military equipment that it made people want to cry.

  More than 60 American soldiers curled up in down sleeping bags snoring, Chen Zizhong carried two box guns wandering around the enemy's camp, Hou Fengzi carried a large hammer closely behind.

  Chen Zizhong's footsteps were light, Ding Ruguang led the machine gun squad to move towards the commanding heights, and when the machine guns were set up, all the American soldiers would become prisoners.

  An American soldier stumbled out of his sleeping bag, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he looked over at Chen Zizhong, a luminous watch on his wrist.

  "Bang!" Chen Zizhong had no time to think, and with a flick of his wrist, he fired a shot. The American soldier fell to the ground at the sound of the gunshot.

  Gunfire echoed through the night sky.

  A sudden commotion on the mountain top, a dozen or so US soldiers grabbed their weapons and crawled out of their sleeping bags. The dark muzzles moved quickly in the darkness, searching for targets. The US troops were uniformly equipped with automatic weapons, and once a firefight broke out, the guerrilla forces occupying the passive environment would be at an absolute disadvantage.

  "What's going on?" Hou Tuanzi turned his head and looked around, the machine gun hadn't been set up yet, and the soldiers were still halfway up the mountain.

  "He's an official." Chen Zizhong remembered that luminous watch and pressed down Hou Dianzi with his hand, "Get down!"

  The sound of gunfire is the most direct order. The tacit understanding between comrades plays a crucial role in the critical moment, and the guerrilla fighters are still some distance from the top of the mountain. Upon hearing the gunfire, the veteran soldiers who were approaching almost simultaneously threw hand grenades towards the top of the mountain.

  The pitch-black night sky echoed with a chilling sound, like a flock of strange birds flying over the treetops.