Chapter Sixteen: Brothers, Do Not Take Revenge (Three)

  "They're here!" a Polish soldier yelled, rushing in and knocking Baral to the ground. Just as he raised his rifle to stab him, a shot rang out and blood spurted from his chest, falling weakly onto Baral's clearly frightened body.

  Ma Han seemed to have forgotten the pain, he was now holding Baral's sniper rifle, squatting on the ground and shooting at the Polish soldiers who were rushing over. He didn't look back, "Brother, hurry up, I can't hold on for much longer."

  Ma Han's buttocks sat on the ground, with blood flowing down the slope, but he still stared firmly ahead, knocking down one by one the Polish soldiers who rushed over. 'Ding' The last bullet in the sniper rifle was also fired, and he took out the pistol from his waist to continue shooting, regretting not bringing two hand grenades.

  "No!!!" Baral seemed to have received some stimulation, he suddenly stood up, and the moment he stood up, his shoulder immediately burst out with blood flowers. However, he was oblivious, walking straight into the hail of bullets and squatting down beside Mahan, muttering in his mouth: "How can I abandon my comrade...I absolutely cannot...I can do it!"

  The two men's position was at the very forefront of the entire front line, meaning they were among the first to suffer the Polish infantry's strong assault. The entire Polish infantry company had already lost half its men, but they continued to advance forward.

  The Poles were not lacking in courage, but they lacked advanced infantry tactics. At this moment, however, they had no opportunity to complain about anything. These Polish soldiers watched as their comrades fell one by one, and they were stimulated to repeatedly charge forward with abandon, only to be suppressed again by the National Defense Army's machine guns.

  The Poles had already planned to retreat, but they were reluctant; their own officers had mysteriously fallen, and they only found one enemy position.

  "Damn Germans and their digging! Where are they?" This was the roar of a Polish corporal, now the highest-ranking officer in the infantry company. Look what he saw: right ahead, two German lieutenants were crouching in a depression, with their own soldiers constantly charging forward, but being mowed down by some terrifying rifle before they could even get close, its power was simply horrific, hitting them in the head and guaranteeing that one side of their skull would be gone.

  "Take them down, then retreat!" The Polish corporal began trying to gather the scattered soldiers. He pulled out a grenade, adjusted his stance and stood up. Just as he threw the grenade, his neck was hit by a bullet. Almost at the same moment that the grenade was thrown back by the Germans, he crashed heavily to the ground with the explosion sound, clutching his neck trying to breathe, but air had already gone far from him, only blood kept gushing out of his nostrils. His last consciousness was: this action itself is wrong. God... I'm coming...

  ……

  "I won't leave you behind!" Baral desperately tried to lift Mahan, but Mahan's weight was at least twice that of Baral. Baral refused to give up, roaring like a wounded beast trying to protect its young, letting out a furious bellow.

  "Ahhhhh!!!” Baral finally lifted Mahan onto his shoulders, trembling with the effort of trying to stand up, “I won't give up!”

  Ma Han was speechless, the friendship from his brother moved him deeply, but he didn't want to get Baral killed. On a battlefield where bullets were flying everywhere, a small and thin man wanting to carry a fat comrade who weighed twice as much as himself back to the rear lines was simply a pipe dream. He roared: "Put me down! Let me go! Please let me die with honor!"

  "Nonsense!" Baral felt his lungs burning hot, and he found it hard to breathe. He let out another angry roar, and finally managed to prop up Mahan with his shoulder.

  Polish soldiers discovered them, but they didn't shoot. They quietly watched as the small, thin German soldier carried a robust comrade, who was at least twice his size, with great difficulty, trying to retreat to the rear. The little man's legs were struggling to move forward, and from afar, you could see his two thin calves trembling, but he still continued on resolutely.

  "Shouldn't we shoot?" asked the Polish soldiers of each other, thinking they should open fire and kill the two Germans.

  "That guy... where did that shorty get such great strength from?" The Polish soldier was puzzled.

  "Bang!" Someone had fired a shot, directly hitting the small and short figure's right waist. The Polish soldiers looked at the little guy with mixed emotions as he dragged the strong but butt-injured German soldier to the right together.

  The Polish soldier who fired saw his comrades staring at him, with very complex eyes. He smiled awkwardly, "I missed my aim, I was supposed to shoot his leg. Maybe we should take two prisoners?"

  "Look! He's standing up again with his brother on his back!" The Polish soldier was shocked!

  "Whoosh!" A 75mm shell exploded in the mud in front of them, spewing out white smoke. They didn't have time to be shocked, and after a wave of intense heat passed over, only a crater was left.

  ……

  "Damn it, I've been shot in the waist." Baral had no hands to cover his wound, he felt that all the air he breathed in was hot, as if his entire lungs were going to burn up.

  Ma Han's face was streaming with tears, "Damn it! You damned skinny monkey, get out of here! The great Ma Han should die on the battlefield, an honorable death, not drag down his own brothers! You can't carry me, go! Tell Stak that I said; no surrender, if we fail, I will choose a glorious death!" He put the muzzle of the pistol in his mouth, ready to pull the trigger.

  Balaal was dealing with the wound on his waist, he found that the bullet had passed through and he hadn't been hit in a vital spot. He tightened up his combat vest as much as possible to reduce the pain, didn't lift his head, and said coldly: "Brother, you're not heavy."

  Ma Han was just about to pull the trigger when he heard it, and his finger froze on the trigger. "What did you say?" His mouth was still pressed against the gun barrel, making his voice a bit muffled.

  Balal looked up at Ma Hande's eyes, ignoring the gun in his hand. "I said: Brother, you're not heavy!" He crawled over and put Ma Hande on his shoulder again, struggling to stand up.

  "I'll kill you!" Ma Han was already crying uncontrollably.

  Baral's footsteps suddenly became very steady, he walked step by step towards the front, very slowly, but he was walking very happily. "If Stak finds out that I abandoned you and escaped on my own, I'll be shot." He smiled, but his smile was a bit forced, every time he spoke, his lungs would hurt a little, he felt like he was spitting fire.

  The Polish soldiers fired again and bullets whizzed past the two men as they continued to walk steadily, step by step, in their direction.

  "This time it was Ma Han's thigh that was hit by a bullet, he gritted his teeth and refused to make a sound."

  "Boom!" An explosion suddenly went off five meters behind the two, sending mud flying everywhere and knocking them to the ground. The distinctive singing of an MG-34 machine gun began, as soldiers in gray uniforms rushed past the pair at high speed. It was a company-sized unit of defense troops come to provide support.

  A medic knelt down beside Baral and Mahan, seeing two blood-covered men.

  Balar and Mahan finally relaxed, reinforcements had arrived, they were breathing heavily.

  Ma Han pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his upper jacket pocket, took one out and put it in his mouth. Just as he was about to light up, the cigarette was snatched away by Baral. "Hey, what's going on? Think you can just smoke?" He took out another cigarette and said to the medic who was about to treat his wound, "No, medic, help my brother first. I'm just a bit unlucky to have been hit in the butt and thigh, it looks scary but I won't die. His waist was shot, he might not make it."

  Baral was too exhausted to speak, with the sound of gunfire constantly ringing in his ears. He felt so tired, so tired... he didn't even want to move a single finger. The cigarette he had just lit fell to the ground without him taking a single puff.

  "It's all right......" Baral felt extremely sleepy, he closed his eyes and emphasized in a very weak voice: You are my brother, so you won't be heavy...