Chapter 10 Turkish Humor (4)

  Turkish troops launched a spirited attack on the Main Peak, shooting down at fleeing South Korean soldiers from higher ground.

  With a spirited and energetic pace, Yaziqi took the first step, facing the biting cold wind and snowstorm, sending a telegram to the US command, declaring that the brave Turkish brigade had won a great victory in the encounter battle with the Chinese army, and most of the swarming Chinese soldiers were killed or captured. The unexpected surprise caused the US command to erupt in cheers, and immediately sent a telegram back to Yaziqi, ordering someone to be sent to interrogate the prisoners.

  Chen Zizhong and his comrades were almost frozen into ice lollies, they looked forward to heavy snow every day. Firstly, snowy days are warm, secondly, they can avoid US military reconnaissance planes. Wearing thin clothes and hiding in the snow nest is more painful than rushing against the wind, body heat melts the surrounding snow, freezes into ice sheets that stick tightly to the skin, making a sound with every move, the ice sheets fall off like molted skin.

  Hou Dianzi exposed half of his head to keep watch, the layered and accumulated goose feather-like snow turned him into a white-haired great ape: "I remember that it also snowed heavily when we fought against the roving cavalry last time."

  Chen Zizhong licked the ice chip at the corner of his mouth into his stomach: "You don't understand anything, a noble person braves the wind and snow. What a good omen!"

  The intense gunfire was the most direct signal, Chen Zizhong's most direct order was to shoot down the Turkish sentry in front of him with one shot, and dozens of guerrilla fighters jumped out of the deep snow like a cunning fox, launching a charge in the posture of a leopard preying on its prey.

  The wind stopped, snow fell silently, dozens of pairs of Liberation rubber shoes drummed in the open field.

  The mortar fired first, and the five cannons knocked out two machine guns, like poking out the enemy's eyes. The gunner was injured during the forced crossing of the icy river, he looked like a half-black tower, spoke little, when others asked him ten questions, he would only respond with one word, his comrades called him "Dumb". Dumb had an elegant name, Su Haoran. He was strong, and when marching, he carried the 60mm cannon without falling behind, his ammunition handler also spoke little, but was strong, when they were idle, they polished the cannon, the barrel shone like a mirror. Wu Xiaomao often combed her hair in front of the cannon.

  The dumb artillery adjusted its aim, and a shell shot into the enemy crowd, breaking arms and legs like scattered flowers, falling down like bloody hail.

  "Cease fire, your dad's treasure is going to pay for it!" Chen Zizhong rolled away from the bullets, lying on the ground, a bayonet pierced through the abdomen of the Turkish soldier from bottom to top, and a burst of blood splashed onto his face.

  Hou Fengzi threw away his military uniform, swung his arms, and wielded an iron hammer like a fierce god. The Turkish army on the opposite side raised their knives to welcome him, but ended up with both the knife and the person being cut in two. A gust of wind sounded behind his ears, he turned around and swept horizontally, and the Turkish soldier who pounced from behind had his arm smashed into his ribcage, shattering it into pieces.

  The earthy army's leather trumpet sounded loudly in the mountains, their big knives were sharpened to a high polish, but their hand-to-hand combat skills were no match for the calm and collected US cavalrymen, who quickly surrounded them.

  "Eat first, then take as much as you can!"

  Chen Zizhong carried a box of artillery shells to replenish the enemy's corpse, while Hou Frenzy carried an iron hammer behind him, panting heavily, with hot sweat pouring down his forehead and steam rising from his head.

  "Damn thing, like a steamed bun just out of the oven." Chen Zizhong tossed a field jacket to Hou Frenzi.

  Hou Dianzi licked his sweaty shoulders and nodded: "Too much salt, it's salty."

  The warriors who ate and drank to their heart's content quickly left the battlefield, carrying boxes of canned goods on their shoulders, brand new down sleeping bags under their feet, boots hanging from their necks, and their mouths stretched back to their napes. They've struck it rich!

  At this time, Yazici was kicking the buttocks of South Korean prisoners of war and loudly dictating a telegram to be sent to the US military command announcing their victory.