Chapter 74 The Wounded Soldiers Nowhere to Be Placed
Lin Xiaohou led the poorly equipped 799th Regiment of the Sichuan Army and fought a bloody battle with the Japanese on the right bank of Yunzao Bang. The angry Japanese roared and covered their position with artillery fire.
The entire position seemed to have been plowed through, and the Sichuan soldiers suffered heavy losses. Even the regiment leader Lin Xiaohou was blown down to a bloody pulp.
After the scarred Sichuan soldiers left Lin Xiaohou to the health team, before the health team had time to bandage their wounds, they turned around and ran back to the position where the artillery fire was raging.
The Japanese attack became even more fierce. Not only were they bombarded with artillery fire, but planes in the sky were also circling, strafing, and dropping bombs, which seemed to smash the Chinese defenders' positions to pieces.
The lightly wounded soldiers still insisted on fighting bloody battles on the front line, while the seriously wounded soldiers were continuously sent to this hidden reed swamp. The health team simply bandaged them and waited for them to be sent to the rear after dark.
Yang Ling's mission was originally to be responsible for the safety of the health team, but there were too many wounded and the health team was already too busy. He had to take Yang Dashu and others to participate in rescuing the wounded.
"I don't want to die, help me, help me." A soldier whose stomach was blown to pieces was lying on the ground, wailing in pain, his blood-covered hands tightly grasping Yang Ling and not letting go.
Yang Ling had already examined him, and his intestines had been severed by shrapnel. With their current medical conditions, there was no way he could be saved.
"The big poplar tree, carry it away."
Although Yang Ling couldn't bear to face such people who couldn't be saved at all, he had to let Yang Dashu carry him aside cruelly. He had to save those who still had hope.
"Help me, help me." The soldier cried and struggled, his face distorted by pain as the wound was affected.
"Sir, please save him first." Another soldier whose chest was shot through by a bullet heard the wailing of his companion and couldn't help but beg Yang Ling, who was immersed in examining him.
Yang Ling was once a soldier king and had learned battlefield rescue. He also wanted to save the wailing soldier, but he couldn't. He felt deeply powerless.
Yang Ling shook his head helplessly: "His intestines have been scratched, and it's useless to save him."
The soldier who asked the question had a dejected face and murmured to himself: "He saved my life..."
Yang Ling lowered his head and said nothing. He used water to clean the dirt and blood from the bullet wound on the soldier's chest, wrapped him in gauze, and then went straight to the next soldier.
Not only are they in dire need of medical staff, but they are also in dire need of medicines and gauze. Faced with the continuous flow of injured people, they can only perform simple hemostasis. Whether they can survive depends on their luck.
Yang Ling and the others were busy until the moon was high in the sky. The always gloomy sky shed rare moonlight. The cold moonlight shone on the reed marshes, and the wounded soldiers on the ground added to the desolation.
Hundreds of lightly and seriously injured people were sent to the rear under the cover of darkness. Only the dead and dying were left in the health team camp. Everyone in the health team was exhausted, not only physically but also mentally.
They were helpless and helplessly watched the wounded die in front of them. Only they themselves understood the painful feeling.
The big pot was set up, the firewood was crackling and burning, the bloody gauze was tumbling in the heat, and the clear water in the pot turned into bloody water.
All the gauze they brought had been used, and they had to remove the bloody gauze wrapped around the dead body, re-boil it, disinfect it, and reuse it. It was sad and helpless.
The people on the health team have been busy, and now they are all exhausted and lying on the ground without any image, breathing heavily.
Yang Ling arranged patrol posts in all directions, and put most of his power on the east and back sides, where the Japanese were most likely to penetrate.
Although it was already dark, the battle ahead still did not stop. The rattling machine guns were mixed with the explosions of grenades, and the sound of intensive rifle fires came and went, intertwining into a symphony in such a noisy night.
After Yang Ling inspected the sentry post and made sure it was safe, he returned to the reed marsh and sat on the ridge covered with reed poles. He stared blankly at the health captain Zhang Hongying busy among the soldiers who were on the verge of death.
Zhang Hongying is a cheerful person with a bright smile on her face and two dimples when she smiles. Yang Ling felt like spring breeze when he saw her for the first time.
But at this moment, Zhang Hongying's face, which was always smiling, was filled with deep fatigue. Looking at the soldiers lying on the ground moaning in pain, she felt a deep weakness deep in her heart.
Two months ago, she was a young female student running on the streets shouting to resist Japan and save the nation. Now she has devoted herself to the movement to resist Japan and save the nation, volunteering to become a field medic.
But seeing countless wounded soldiers die in pain due to lack of clothing and medicine, her heart was deeply hurt. In fact, many people could not have died, but the cruel reality made them really powerless.
"Charge...charge..." Many soldiers with high fever and coma were lying on the cold ground still shouting in their dreams to charge. They were brave soldiers, but she was not a qualified medical staff.
Zhang Hongying originally thought that becoming a field nurse would save lives and heal the wounded, but facing so many wounded soldiers, he felt tired for the first time, and his original excitement gradually turned into numbness.
Looking at the soldiers who were shouting and charging in their dreams, tears flashed in Zhang Hongying's eyes, and she deeply blamed herself for her powerlessness.
Yang Ling sat in the distance and heard Zhang Hongying sobbing softly and sighing heavily. This place was a huge melting pot of flesh and blood. Thousands of soldiers were struggling here to live and die. Living had become a luxury.
Yang Ling thought of Lin Xiaohou, that thin and steely man. Even though his body was covered in blood and blood, he still screamed for a fight. Even though he was sent down, he didn't know if he could survive.
"Company commander, there's something going on over there." Jiao Chaoming ran to Yang Ling with his rifle in hand, panting.
Yang Ling looked serious: "What's going on?"
Jiao Chaoming replied: "There is movement over the ditch in the north. It seems to be Japanese soldiers."
"Inform Captain Zhang and they should take cover as soon as possible." After Yang Ling said this, he immediately ran towards the ditch to the north with his gun in hand.
Under the cold moonlight, the ditch was sparkling. Platoon leader Wu Jiang and more than a dozen soldiers were lying in the foxholes dug during the day, their guns pointed at the reeds opposite the ditch.
The reeds opposite the ditch only showed dark outlines in the night, swaying in the night wind, mixed with some rustling sounds.