The sky turned white, and the battlefield covered with blood and corpses was shrouded in the morning light. Thick black smoke was rising from the bare wooden piles. Brothers covered in tatters and soaked in blood lay exhausted and gasping for breath among the piles of corpses.
The gunshots all around have subsided, thick black smoke is filling the air, and the thick, wet smell of blood is almost suffocating.
Under the protection of several armed guards, the regiment leader Zhang Handuo climbed up to the high ground that Yang Ling and the others were responsible for capturing.
When he climbed up the blasted ring fortification and looked around at the densely packed corpses stretching from the hillside to the top of the mountain, he couldn't help but take a breath of cold air.
Their regiment fought fiercely all night last night. The first battalion he led was responsible for attacking the hilltop on the left wing. It could not be captured for a long time, so the second battalion, which was in reserve, had to be transferred up.
The two battalions took turns attacking all night, and then they took down the high ground on the left wing. They cleared the high ground on the left wing to the Japanese. Then they remembered that there was no movement on the high ground on the right wing, so they hurried over for reinforcements.
But when he saw the mutilated corpses, broken guns, and blood-stained flags lying crumpled on the hillside, his heart sank to the bottom. Could it be that all three battalions were lost?
Zhang Handuo didn't believe that his third battalion had been wiped out in this way. He climbed up the mountain stepping on the bloody corpses, and soon found a brother who still had half of his life left.
This brother's thigh had a bloody hole stabbed by a bayonet and was tied with dirty rags. The blood soaked into the rags and had solidified into a dark black color.
"Quick, carry him down!" Zhang Handuo hurriedly moved the corpses nearby, pulled out the limp brother, and asked the guards to carry him down for treatment.
"Are there any brothers alive? Squeak!" Zhang Handuo shouted as he led the guards, digging out the seriously injured brothers from the pile of corpses and sending them down to the high ground.
"I'm still alive..." First Company Commander Shunzi, whose military uniform was in tatters, was lying on his back in the trench, shouting feebly.
"Is there anything to eat? I'm going to starve to death." Some brothers were covered in scars, but the sound made Zhang Handuo couldn't help but be happy.
Hearing the promises from brothers from time to time, Zhang Handuo was so excited that his heart also dropped. As long as the people were not dead, he added some new soldiers and there would be another iron-clad Third Battalion!
"Let Chen Ming bring his brothers up to rescue people!" Zhang Handuo and the others were overwhelmed with the number of wounded, so they had to ask the second battalion commander to bring people up to support them.
"Teacher, am I going to die? I don't want to die..." A brother whose thigh was blown off was put on a stretcher and he grabbed Zhang Handuo's sleeve and asked.
Zhang Handuo's eyes were red and he patted his shoulder gently and said: "No, you won't die. Take good care of yourself and let's fight the Japanese together again."
Before Zhang Handuo finished speaking, this brother had already passed out due to excessive blood loss.
"Hurry up and carry him down for rescue!" Zhang Handuo hurriedly urged him to be carried down.
A brother rushed to Zhang Handuo and took him to the trench full of blood and mud with a heavy look on his face.
Here, the leader of the third battalion to the deputy battalion, Qiangqian, was lying quietly at the bottom of the trench, his face covered with mud and blood mixed together, and his appearance could no longer be seen clearly.
Seeing the deputy commander of the third battalion die here, Zhang Handuo had an indescribable feeling in his heart. This veteran who had been fighting for many years just left.
"Give him a good burial and don't let him explode into the wilderness." Zhang Handuo ordered, his eyes already sparkling when he turned around.
How many good brothers died on the battlefield like this. After bloody battles, thousands of brothers sacrificed their lives. This is a labor pain that this nation cannot bear.
Yang Ling also came back with the chasing brothers. They were covered in blood, and their faces were as black as the bottom of the pot. They chased and slaughtered all the fleeing little Japs, but this still couldn't exchange for the kindness of those familiar brothers.
life.
There was a fire in Yang Ling's heart, but he had nowhere to vent it. Looking at Lao Smoking lying quietly on the stretcher, his heart felt like a knife being twisted, and he was so uncomfortable that he couldn't express it.
Although Lao Yanqiang has no education, he does not understand the patriotic principles that the students are shouting. He just knows how to pick up a gun. As long as he keeps shooting, the little devils will not be able to burn, kill and loot as they please.
From their first meeting on the battlefield in Shanghai, to Nanjing, Xuzhou, and Wuhan, and all the bloody battles, Yang Ling and Lao Yanqiang's status had changed.
But the brotherhood of life and death on the battlefield was even stronger. Now, another familiar brother had passed away. How could he not feel disappointed? Looking at the unfamiliar recruits around him, a huge feeling of loneliness enveloped Yang Ling.
"I'm a little tired, I'm going to take a nap."
Yang Ling didn't return to the camp without carrying the curled-edged sword. Feeling exhausted, he closed his eyes and saw all kinds of blood and life and death echoing in his mind.
I slept until dark, and the fighting continued outside, with crackling gunshots, cannons, and explosions one after another.
The units of the 74th Army were launching a strong attack on the main Minshan position guarded by the Japanese, but at this moment, Yang Ling felt powerless.
"Lieutenant, do you want to eat?" Huzi was waiting outside the tent as always. When he saw Yang Ling waking up affectionately and listlessly, he asked cautiously.
The death of the deputy battalion commander left the entire battalion in a gloomy atmosphere. The brothers all knew that Yang Ling and the deputy battalion elder smoked guns because they were brothers who had fought bloody battles all the way, and they could better understand Yang Ling's inner pain.
"Where is the old company commander buried?" Yang Ling asked in a deep voice.
Huzi pointed to a green cypress tree not far away and said: "The brothers who died are buried over there."
Yang Ling walked along the messy gravel field to a large area where the bodies of the sacrificed brothers were buried. Mounds covered with new soil stood under the cypress trees. Simple tombstones made of wooden boards were fastened with steel helmets.
That is a monument erected by brothers or friends who sacrificed their brothers.
As for those who had no living friends, they were buried together with many brothers.
Yang Ling walked to the wooden sign with a broken dry pipe and looked at the crooked handwriting on the wooden sign. His eyes filled with tears, seeing his old brother turned into a pile of new dirt.
He squatted down in pain.
Living people, after a battle, turn into cold corpses and a pile of loess. The cruelty of war is vividly demonstrated here.
Yang Ling couldn't describe what he felt in his heart. He felt both nostalgia for the sacrificed brothers and hatred for the little Japs.
He has been working hard, trying to change, hoping not to sacrifice his brothers, hoping to change the humiliation, but in the end he sadly discovered that he could not change anything.
The battle is still going on, and the grief that this nation is enduring is also going on. As a Chinese, since you can't change, then pick up a gun and fight. Even though your strength is humble, you must let the little devils see that the Chinese never surrender. This