Chapter 3: The Deserter

  The winter night in North Korea is bitterly cold, the bare branches of the fallen leaves are trembling in the cold wind, and the evergreen trees are gently swaying their branches in the evening breeze, as if to shake off the accumulated snow. The stars and the crescent moon cast a pale light on the white snow, casting a layer of pale light on this winter night that should be pitch black, also illuminating our path forward.

  Most of the volunteer army was active at night, and many people think that the volunteer army is good at fighting at night. I think the volunteer army fights at night because they are forced to do so by circumstances, not because they want to. If it were daytime, no matter how brave the soldiers were, it would be difficult to gain an advantage under the US military's high-tech equipment. At that time, night vision devices were still a novelty and had not yet been equipped to US troops, so as soon as it got dark, the US planes, artillery, and tanks all lost their effectiveness, leaving only hand-to-hand combat with the volunteer army. Therefore, most of the volunteer army marched or launched attacks at night.

  At this time, I should be hiding in a warm quilt, but now I'm climbing mountains and wading through snow.

  At this time, although it's not snowing, the chill is like a ubiquitous elf, crazily snatching away the little warmth I have from every possible place that can penetrate - sleeves, collar, hat brim. If Bai Miao still dares to sing "North wind blows, snowflakes float", I swear I'll drag her here to see what real coldness is...

  Everything seems to be in a dream, I look at the scenery around me, look at the soldiers marching in front of and behind me, look at the weapons and equipment on their backs, but still can't believe that all this is real.

  My legs mechanically moved forward, but my mind was constantly searching for the fragments of falling from Mount Baekdu. In the end, there was only one reasonable and helpless explanation: I fell into that legendary cave, and the mysterious power in the cave brought me here and possessed a frozen volunteer soldier. So I arrived on the battlefield in Korea... Became a volunteer soldier...

  This idea once nearly collapsed me, because I clearly knew how cruel this war was, and also clearly knew that one-third of the soldiers who walked into this war would never return to their hometown, and would never see their loved ones again. No...I can no longer see my loved ones, I have returned to 58 years ago, when my late grandfather was only in his teens, perhaps still struggling hard for the birth of my father somewhere in the country.

  "I wonder if my name will be on the monument commemorating the resistance against US aggression and aid to Korea in this modern world." I chuckled sarcastically: "If I had known it would be like this, I should have taken a closer look at those lists earlier. But there's no way my name would be on the list of heroes. Joking aside, I've held a pen all my life, now you want me to hold a gun? Maybe I'll make it onto the list of deserters."

  "I didn't want to be a deserter either, but the guns and bullets on this Korean battlefield are so hard to come by! The ruthless American imperialism has complete control over the skies, they can bomb our supply lines at will. So every gun, every bullet, every piece of dry rations, every quilted jacket, every pair of rubber shoes, all embody the lives and blood of our logistics comrades who transport military supplies! Therefore, in order not to waste these precious guns, ammunition, and supplies on me, a person who has never been on the battlefield before, for the victory of the Korean War, for the happiness of hundreds of millions of people across the country... I'll swallow my pride and be a deserter this once..."

  This reason seems to hold water, so I slowed down my pace, stopped looking around, tried not to show a guilty conscience, and pretended to be out of breath.

  Speaking of my pretended skills, I still have a glorious history. In the past when I was in college, I once successfully made five innocent and pure girls believe that I was a gentleman with a fake serious face, and almost won their hearts. I say "almost" because in the end, I found out that the one who was deceived was actually myself...

  A true hero doesn't mention past glories. Now I've almost prayed to every god I can think of in my heart: all you great gods, let me successfully pretend one more time!

  As I watched one volunteer soldier after another pass by my side, my heart also accelerated... In this era, the outcome of being caught as a deserter was only one, that is, to be executed by firing squad on the roadside.

  "Comrade……" Just as I was about to reach the end of the line, a familiar voice made my heart skip a beat. I turned around to see Old Classmate's eyes shining with an unusual light, smiling at me.

  I took a look at the old squad leader, then looked at myself, and soon understood where the problem lay. The old squad leader had on his person a marching pack, an iron shovel, a submachine gun, hand grenades, a dry rations bag, an ammunition bag, a canteen... all in all, it added up to at least 70 or 80 kilograms. I mean, how could a young fellow like me with nothing on my person possibly outrun an old man carrying over 70 kilograms?

  I am filled with remorse, how could I have forgotten the traditional virtue of respecting the elderly and loving the young? If from the beginning I had worn an angelic smile, walked up to Old Class Director with deep affection, and said in my most gentle voice: "Uncle, these things must be very heavy! Let me help you carry some." Then my plan to escape by pretending to be weak would have been flawless.

  This is terrible, died before achieving anything...

  "Comrade......" But unexpectedly, the old squad leader patted my shoulder and said kindly: "You must be tired! Comrade......you've been to the gates of hell and back, it's not easy......just hold on a bit longer, when we catch up with the main troops, I'll call a medic to take a look at you..."

  I was stunned at once, and I couldn't help but feel a little ashamed in my heart. I didn't expect to feel the care of my comrades before experiencing the cruelty of the battlefield.

  "It's okay, it's okay..." I replied softly with my head down, the concern in Lao Ban Zhang's eyes seemed especially piercing in the night.

  "Halt, stay where you are..."

  "Halt, stay where you are..."

  ……

  I don't know how long I ran, but just as I was secretly amazed at the strong endurance of this body I possessed, one by one, orders to stop advancing were passed down from the front. Although it was a rest, no one dared to find a place to sit down. Everywhere was covered with snow, and in such cold weather, they feared that if they sat down, they would freeze stiff and never get up again. So everyone stood in place, lightly stomping their feet, blowing hot air into their hands, and some simply huddled together in groups of big men to keep warm...

  At this time, I took a closer look at the company and found that there were more than 160 people. From head to toe, they formed a very long queue. Normally, a company should have around 120 people, and an army should have more than 30,000 people. However, the volunteer army was generally overstaffed, and the four armies that entered Korea earliest all had no less than 40,000 people, so it was also reasonable for a company to have more than 160 people.

  Look at their equipment, rifles I only recognize the Type 38 Arisaka and the Chiang Kai-shek rifle often seen in movies. Machine guns that can be called out loud are mostly "wokouzi" (a type of machine gun), roughly seven or eight of them. Each soldier has three to five hand grenades hanging from their chest, while platoon leaders and company commanders are mostly equipped with submachine guns or shotguns. What surprised me was the presence of two mortars.

  Although these equipment can't be compared with the US military's aircraft, artillery and tanks, they are not as bad as what people imagine, like millet plus rifles.

  I still remember that after Li Qiuwei returned to China, he wrote a book called "The Korean War", which always emphasized how poor the US military equipment was, how insufficient the supplies were, and how the soldiers suffered from cold and hunger. Of course, after a defeat, if someone returns home with a long face and says that their equipment is excellent, their food is great, and their cotton clothes are thick, anyone would suspect that his brain must have been damaged by the Volunteer Army.

  Similarly, if the country emphasizes how poor the equipment of the volunteer army is, it can better reflect the bravery of the volunteer army and the spirit of the volunteer army's weak victory over the strong. Moreover, the equipment of the volunteer army is not on the same level as that of the US military to begin with.

  "Xiao Shandong..." The old squad leader waved his hand and caught the little guy who had just run past him: "What's wrong, why didn't you advance?"

  "Can't find the main force." Xiaoyu Dong chuckled: "Isn't this the main road? The company commander said that the footprints ahead are messy, saying that it was a defeated battle and the Korean People's Army retreated, and the relocated villagers don't know where they went now."

  "This is going to be a problem!" The old squad leader frowned: "No map, no wireless, this is an unfamiliar place, and it's in North Korea. Even if we ask someone for directions, they won't understand what we're saying..."

  The volunteer army's communication equipment was poor, I've heard that only at the regimental level did they have telephones, and only at the divisional level did they have wireless radios. So there's an old saying: "When a volunteer army company goes out to fight, it can't even be called back." Moreover, when the volunteer army first entered Korea to participate in the war, battalion-level units didn't even have maps. At that time, if you couldn't find the main force, it was indeed troublesome, just like what Old Squad Leader said.

  "I, I can say..." I rubbed my frozen nose and said: "I can speak Korean, let me ask! Where do we need to go?"

  "Can you speak Korean? That's great!" The old squad leader's face flashed with a hint of surprise, then piled on a smile full of wrinkles: "We're going to Wenjing, let's find a fellow countryman to ask the way..."

  "Wenjing?" I was taken aback, the reason I knew this place name is that the first shot of the Resist America and Aid Korea War was fired at Dushui Cave near Wenjing.

  I looked at the materials two days ago, and originally planned to send the 11th Division of the 40th Army of the Volunteer Army to advance to Wenjing, but found that the enemy had already occupied Wenjing one step ahead, so they hastily built fortifications in Ershuigou to prepare for an ambush against the enemy army continuing to advance northward...

  "What's the date? What's today's date?" I asked somewhat anxiously.

  "Twenty-five, October twenty-fifth." The old class monitor felt that this question was a bit strange, but still answered.

  This is the Memorial Day for Resisting America and Aiding Korea, which is also the day when the war broke out.

  "Are you from the 11th Division of the 40th Army?" My voice was already trembling.

  Looking at the old squad leader who nodded, I couldn't help but cry out in my heart: It's going to be a battlefield so soon, it's only been a few hours since I came to this world, not even giving me a chance to desert...

  "Comrade, comrade..." The old squad leader looked at me with a puzzled expression and asked: "What's wrong? What's not right?"

  "No, no." I weakly shook my head and slowly spat out a few words: "The main force is at the two water caves, not at Wenjing."