The sales volume of "Beiping People's Daily" was once again high on this ordinary morning because of Liu Xueyuan's second battlefield diary.
The 100,000 copies that were urgently printed last night were all sold out in less than an hour.
Not only them, but all over the country, the newspapers published by the "Beiping People's Daily" transferred Liu Xueyuan's battlefield diary to various newspapers without any reward, and became one of the most popular commodities that morning.
Wuhan, Hankou Pier.
"Selling newspapers, selling newspapers, the Great Wall Defense War broke out, Miss Liu Xueyuan's battlefield diary continues with a new chapter! The death-defying company of the Central Army's Independent Regiment killed hundreds of Japanese invaders with ten kills per enemy and made another new achievement." The newsboy carried a full suit on his back.
Outside the declaration number that had just been printed, people were hawking it along the street. In less than a moment, the hundreds of newspapers in the newspaper boy's pocket had been sold out. Many pedestrians who had not bought the newspapers grabbed others and rushed to buy them.
An elderly woman reached out and grabbed the young man next to her, and asked tremblingly: "You'er, tell me what the newspapers said about Moss? Did the death-defying company of the Independent Regiment make great contributions?"
Already?"
"Dare to die?" The young man's eyes suddenly narrowed and he said: "Mother, are you asking about this?"
The old lady said proudly: "My son Hutou wrote back two months ago, saying that he was the squad leader of Moss in the death-defying company of the Independent Regiment of the Central Army. He said he was a sergeant and had ten men under his command.
A pot person, I don’t know if that counts as a pot official?”
"Your son is the squad leader in the death squad?" The young man was immediately in awe after hearing this, and hurriedly turned to the fourth page of the newspaper and asked, "Mother, is your son's name Moss?"
The old lady said loudly: "My son's name is Wei Hutou. He has been very tough since he was a child. Everyone said that he will be successful in the future."
"Wei Hutou!?" The young man suddenly looked sad.
At the same time, the young man looked at the grey-haired old lady who was at least sixty years old with red eyes, and looked at her carefully.
Wei Hutou appeared twice in the entire newspaper. Once on the second page of the newspaper, the list of 206 dead soldiers of the daredevil company included the three words Wei Hutou, and his position was indeed that of a daredevil company.
The squad leader of the deadly company!
There was another time, but it appeared in Liu Xueyuan's battlefield diary. Liu Xueyuan focused on it not because he was among the soldiers who died in the first battle, but because after carrying Wei Hutou's body to the tunnel,
, Zhou Shiyu finally opened his hands that were tightly clenched on his chest and found the yellowed black and white photo that he wanted to protect.
In that photo, there was a gray-haired old lady. At the last moment of his life, Wei Hutou protected the photo of his mother with his hands to prevent her from being attacked by the Japanese invaders' artillery fire.
Everyone cried, including the Chinese who saw the news. The soldiers sacrificed their lives to resist the Japanese invaders, wasn't it just to protect their mother? The mother who gave him life.
For this reason, Zhou Shiyu specially sent a telegram to the headquarters of the Independent Regiment, hoping that Liu Lang could go to Wei Hutou's home after the war to see Wei Hutou's mother.
Perhaps from that moment on, Zhou Shiyu had already made up his mind to die.
With tears in her eyes, Liu Xueyuan wrote Wei Hutou's story in her battlefield diary, hoping that the fellow villagers in Wuhan could help visit her. This was the last wish of a warrior.
The old lady obviously didn't notice the change in the young man's face, and asked with concern: "Yo'er, have you found my son?"
"I found it, I found it." The young man held back his tears and said, "My dear, look, this is the list of soldiers who have made meritorious service. Your son's name is on it. He has made great achievements! He is now a hero, a great hero! Maybe
After this battle, he may be the platoon commander or even the company commander!"
The old lady smiled happily and said: "Haha, the neighbors at home also said so. My son has been promising since he was a child."
After that, the old lady walked away tremblingly. When passing by the Great Wall Anti-Japanese War fund-raising office where several young students were, she took out five silver dollars from her arms with trembling hands and put them in without hesitation.
Under the gaze of the young man's red eyes, the old woman walked a dozen steps forward and passed the corner. She looked at the freshly fragrant fried dough sticks that had been fried on the street earlier. She twitched the corners of her mouth a few times, but finally turned her head and said firmly to
Walk down a dilapidated old street next to it.
There is one of the poorest streets in Hankou.
Not far away, the young man finally couldn't help but burst into tears. He resolutely took out the last ten coins he had, threw half of them into the donation box, and bought the other half of the freshly baked fragrant dough sticks that the old lady had been watching for a long time. He looked at the old lady's back.
Chased him.
In Shanghai, you are faced with display windows filled with a wide variety of products.
A father and son are looking at each other.
The little boy was only seven or eight years old. He was wearing small leather shoes and overalls, which showed that his family was in a good situation. However, his father was dressed a little shabby. Although he was also wearing a suit and leather shoes, the cuffs of the suit had frayed edges and looked old.
Have worn it for quite some time.
Seven or eight years old is the age when dogs are disgusted with death. The toy gun in the window obviously attracted the child's attention. He was having trouble with his father because his father rejected his request.
"Son, come here, daddy will tell you a story." The thirty-year-old father took the little boy to sit down against the window, picked up the newspaper in his hand, and read the diary written by Liu Xueyuan very seriously.
The young father had read every word there several times and was very familiar with it. Reinterpreting it with his understanding obviously attracted the little boy's full attention and threw all the unhappiness of not getting the toy gun into the Pacific Ocean.
Although the little boy is young and ignorant, he already has a vague understanding of the war imposed on the Chinese nation by the Japanese invaders. Especially the war that happened in Shanghai a year ago still had a great impact on him.
big.
After listening to his father's story with some choking, he supported his chin with his hand and thought seriously for a while, and asked: "Dad, I don't know why the death squads stayed on the position and asked to fire on me. Why didn't they first
Run? If they run away, won’t our artillery just blow up the little devils without blowing them up?”
The little boy's childish questions brought tears to the young father's eyes.
Yes! A seven or eight-year-old child understands this truth, but the warriors of the Death Company don’t know it?
Of course they know, but they can't run away. If they run away, the Japanese army won't gather around like jackals that have smelled their prey, and the precious shells won't get the best damage. They just have to use their bodies as bait and use themselves.
life, gave a thunderous blow, and destroyed all Japanese troops.
They just want to tell the Japanese invaders with their blood that if they want to set foot on Chinese territory, they must pay a sufficient price, a price that will make them heartbroken.
"Because they don't want to run away. They want to tell all us Chinese that if you take one step back, you can take another ten steps, a hundred steps, a thousand steps, and we Chinese will fight the little devils to the end." The young father clenched his fists.
The little boy nodded seriously, pointed to the toy gun in the street window, and said very seriously: "Dad, I still want that gun. I want to start practicing marksmanship from now on, and when I grow up, I will specialize in killing Japanese devils."
"Okay, I will definitely buy it for you!" The young father said without hesitation: "I will buy it for you when dad gets his salary next month."
"Dad, why do you have to wait until next month?" The son raised his head, pouted his little mouth again, and looked at his father in confusion with his big black and white eyes.
"Because dad has donated all of this month's salary to the soldiers on the front line, and now he really has no money to buy you a gun. Moreover, you may have to be scolded by your mother when you get home." The young father looked into the distance.
, a little disappointed, if he didn't have a wife and children to take care of, he would want to go to the north now to fight with those warriors.
"It's okay, Dad, I will explain it to you. You are helping the hero fight the Japanese." The little boy held his father's hand and consoled him heroically.
The figures of the father and son, one long and one short, gradually drifted away under the illumination of the street lights.