Rise from eight hundred.

Chapter 163 Heroes can die, so can I!

The warehouse defenders relying on solid walls and thick walls have a death rate as high as [-]%, not to mention the Japanese army who is exposed and wants to charge desperately.

The battle loss ratio of 10 to 1 is not enough, so multiply it by 10.

It is almost unnecessary to count, just looking at the feces-yellow corpses everywhere on the positions near and far outside the warehouse, you know that in these hours of fierce battles, they have more than two infantry squadrons that can basically cancel their establishment.

If the number of people lost in the two waves of attacks launched in the early morning is added, the supply troops previously replenished by the 36th Infantry Regiment can basically be considered exhausted.

Let's not talk about whether the Sixing Warehouse can be conquered today. From this moment on, His Excellency Wakiban Jiro can basically become a major commander, because the number of soldiers under his command is a little more than an infantry brigade.

And Tantai Mingyue also wrote such a sentence in her field diary: "On October 10, our army will never count on killing the enemy!"

This is the title, but also the content.

Shenbao quickly printed this simple battlefield diary in type, and the entire front page was the back of a soldier with four grenades in his waist, a helmet, and a rifle in his hand, accompanied by the words "Our army, killing the enemy is useless!" 'Six big characters.

The government's propaganda department remained silent, but it did not prevent the largest newspaper in Songhu from calling the warehouse defenders who had refused the military order and stripped their collar badges our army.

Even in the western concessions, although some consuls expressed protests to the Chinese foreign ministry, neither side made it clear.

This is politics, the dirty deal is disgusting, but they are destined to only be in the dark corners, once it is revealed to the world, let alone those high-level figures in China, the Western Concession will not be able to do much good.

Hundreds of thousands or even millions of Chinese in the foreign concession have been like a powder keg for several days, and the high national sentiment is on the verge of exploding. What kind of terrible situation will it be if the top management in our country gives up?

Just relying on thousands of guns in the concession?Even the most arrogant western generals would not dare to make such a promise.

Especially after four o'clock in the afternoon, an incident broke out in the concession, which completely silenced a certain Western consul who was still clamoring.

From noon to afternoon, apart from the rumble of guns and artillery, there was no cheering from the Chinese people.

Although they had expected the fierceness of today's battle, the battle situation still greatly exceeded their expectations.

Right under their noses, the Japanese death squads charged desperately one after another. The Chinese soldiers risked being hit by infantry artillery, unable to hide behind the shooting holes in the solid wall and had a better view. The sandbag fortification with a larger shooting angle fought back tenaciously.

Even if the sandbag fortifications and the soldiers were hit and shattered by infantry artillery shells, soldiers would immediately move the sandbags and pile them up again, and continue to shoot on the fortifications that were already full of the flesh and blood of their comrades-in-arms.

When a group of Japanese infantry had entered the dead corner of the warehouse and were desperately packing their explosives into the corner, the red-eyed Chinese soldiers no longer hid behind the roof wall and threw grenades downward based on probability.

Instead, expose most of your body to look for the blind spots covered by the wide eaves, determine the target and throw the grenade.

The result of this was naturally discovered by the light and heavy machine guns of the Japanese army in charge of covering fire, and the roof of the building was originally the focus of their defense.

In the next moment, I don't know how many bullets hit the Chinese soldier's body. The dark blue was soaked in blood and turned into a deep purple, but the soldier who was spitting blood still lay down on the roof wall and dropped the grenade accurately.

The Japanese army piled up at least seven or eight explosive packages there, and they were still digging the ground like crazy, hoping to blow up the place in one fell swoop.

The grenade detonated the explosive package, and the explosives weighing more than 30 kilograms exploded. The terrible explosion created a large hole in the corner of the warehouse that could enter the tank, and also swept away the fallen leaves of the Japanese army within 30 meters who had no time to escape. Generally roll out more than [-] meters.

However, the air wave that was blocked by the wall and soared upward along the wall also hit at the same time. While smashing the thick eaves to pieces, it also swept the Chinese soldiers who had leaned out and were unable to lie back down into the sky.

The more than 100-jin body was like a light leaf. Amidst the tears of the Chinese people, it was thrown away by the terrible air waves, and finally fell into the Suzhou River seven or eight meters away from the warehouse.

The water splashed into the sky with a bang.

he died!
Yes, almost everyone knew that, perhaps from the moment his head drooped heavily after he threw the grenade, he was already dead.

Regardless of whether he will be swept by the air waves or fall into the Suzhou Creek, it is impossible for him to live.

However, why do you always feel that he is still alive when you look at his body that is constantly ups and downs in the river?
What if he still survived?
Looking at this scene, the middle-aged man gritted his teeth, his eyes gradually became firmer, and he handed over the hand holding the child tightly to his wife who was hanging her head behind her back, not daring to look at the battlefield. Robe, wrapped in unknown so wide-eyed looking at his son.

"Changqing, what are you going to do?" The middle-aged woman looked at her husband with panic in her eyes.

The thin and slightly rough hands grabbed the corner of her husband's clothes regardless of the public.

A woman's intuition and understanding of her husband are warning her of her madness. Her husband is about to do an extremely dangerous thing.

"Xiuyun, I will have to ask you to take care of Bao'er in the future." Yue Changqing looked at his wife, tenderness flashed in his eyes, and he was more sorry, but there was no hesitation in his words: "In the future, when he grows up, If the war is not over yet, tell him that a man from the Yue family can be an ordinary person, but he must never be a slave of a foreign race."

After finishing speaking, he knelt down and touched his son's forehead with his forehead, whispering: "Son, grow up quickly!"

"Abba!" The child had just had time to shout, when he saw his father break free from his mother's hand holding the hem of his clothes and run wildly along the street.

On the bank of the deserted Suzhou River, he ran so fast, like a galloping horse, more like an arrow.

Everyone can feel that he will never look back after leaving.

"What does he want to do?" The middle-aged man in black who was watching the battle solemnly not far away was slightly taken aback.

Then, he kept silent.

Because, he understands.

Not only did he understand, but many Chinese who saw this scene also understood.

He was going to fish out the body of a Chinese soldier who fell into the Suzhou Creek, whether he was dead or alive.

He couldn't let his hero stay alone in the icy river.

Seeing the middle-aged man jumping into the Suzhou Creek without hesitation, the middle-aged man's gaze was like a sword: "Brothers, what do you say?"

"This is Allah's Songhu, we can't let an outsider compare to it." A young man also dressed in black had clear eyes, turned his head and walked away.

More than a dozen black clothes followed.

"Don't worry, Xiaodao. If there is an accident, you and the brothers will be paid ten times the settling allowance as usual." The middle-aged man's eyes were slightly red, but he yelled sadly at the young people who were leaving.

This gangster who has been in the underground world of Songhu for more than ten years knows that if he goes there, he may die without a life.

The young man waved his hand as farewell without looking back.

After discovering that the Chinese had jumped into the Suzhou Creek on the south bank of the Suzhou River, the already red-eyed Japanese soldiers immediately turned their machine guns and fired brazenly into the Suzhou Creek.

The south bank of Suzhou River is a concession, but Suzhou Creek is not.

Bullets rained down into the river, and the blood-colored foam of the river kept churning.

The Japanese shooters grinned, perhaps their greatest achievement of the day.

But soon, their smiles froze on their faces.

Because those Chinese people are different from the Chinese people they used to be familiar with.

In the past, in the face of death, most Chinese people would instinctively be numb and silent, just watching their heroes ups and downs in the waves from such a distance, just watching their compatriots perish in the river.

But this time, nearly [-] Chinese people watching the battle on the two wings, their eyes were moistened and their eyes were red.

Even if the Japanese commander on the front line brought in a light machine gun to fire, there were as many as a hundred Chinese people rushing out of the barricades to the point where the Chinese soldiers fell into the water, jumping down in the face of the deadly bullets.

Most of them are young people, seventeen or eighteen years old, which is the golden age of studying.

But these most precious ones, they are gone.

Live to die or die to die?

neither.

They are taking the initiative to go to death to rescue death.

"A hero can die, so can I!"

This is the headline of the newspaper's headlines that appear in the evening.

The seven huge black fonts have already touched everyone's heartstrings before reading the text.

. . . . . .

PS: Today is Monday, brothers vote!Recommended tickets, monthly tickets, Fengyue all!

(End of this chapter)