Rise from eight hundred.

Chapter 588

Four o'clock in the afternoon!
Li Shoushan, who continued to attack to no avail, finally showed his ferocious face, and regardless of the wounded soldiers in front of the position, he mobilized four 12-style mountain artillery and a total of 92 [-] infantry artillery to carry out a saturated bombardment of the left-wing position.

For a full 40 minutes, the fierce artillery fire lifted the dense branches and leaves covering the position, and the first-line trenches collapsed in several places.

Under such an intensity of artillery fire, not to mention the wounded and corpses who were only tens of meters away from the first-line trenches were blown into stumps and body parts flying all over the sky, even if there were people inside the trenches, the casualties would be heavy.

Fortunately, before Tang Dao left, he had ordered everyone to withdraw from the trenches and hide on the other side of the ridge, leaving only the heavy machine gun shooters and a few observation posts in the heavy machine gun fortification.

It was also the first time that the first line of trenches was completely exposed to the sight of the infantry of the Jing'an Army. The trenches dug along the mountain stretched for nearly a kilometer. If you want to cross this mountain to attack the main position of Jiepai Village, you must first occupy this The trenches that seem to have been crumbling from artillery bombardment.

Otherwise, they have to continue to detour.

The mountains in the distance that are much steeper than here may allow a small group of troops to climb over, but the small group of troops with only rifles and other light weapons used to have a ball in the past, but it was only for the Chinese army equipped with machine guns and mortars. Deliver food.

The Jing'an Army once again organized three infantry companies with more than 400 people to approach the front line of the trenches that were already clearly visible.

This time, the frontline commander of the Jing'an Army apparently received a death order and must attack the enemy's position with all his strength. The artillery fire has not completely stopped, but it has gradually become sparse. More than 400 infantry began to charge forward from 200 meters away.

Two heavy machine guns hidden in the bunker fortification behind the first line of trenches began to roar.

That was the signal to the infantry hiding behind the ridge.

"Brothers, the second devils are coming up, follow me!" Li Jiujin waved his hand without hesitation.

The three infantry platoons resolutely entered the battlefield from all over the ridge, braved the still extending artillery fire of the Jing'an Army, jumped into the second-line trenches, and then entered the first-line trenches through the traffic trenches.

In the raging artillery fire, at least five or six soldiers were hit by shrapnel and fell in a pool of blood before they had time to jump into the trench, but no one helped them. Everyone knew that they had no time.

The two heavy machine guns may be able to suppress the attacking Jing'an army infantry to a certain extent, but the battle line is too long. Just relying on two heavy machine guns with a rate of fire of less than 500 rounds per minute can kill the Jing'an army infantry at a width of [-] meters. Completely suppress it, it is purely a dream.

"Brothers, come with me and carry the wounded!" The Second Lieutenant of the Sichuan Army watched the soldiers of the second company advance in the artillery fire, and then fell down in the artillery fire, his eyes turned red involuntarily.

With such an intensity of artillery fire, sending a large number of soldiers into the battlefield is like committing suicide, so the entire Sichuan army camp was used by Li Jiujin as a second-line force. Once the first-line battle was urgent, the Sichuan army camp had to go into battle.

But seeing the soldiers of the second company rushing into the artillery fire regardless, even the wounded were ignored when the time was tight, and the wounded who were a little bloody couldn't just watch the wounded struggling in the pool of blood, and even died in the next round of artillery fire.

The sweet potato was the first to roll down the ridge.

The 15-year-old boy soldier is actually still afraid. Watching the rising fireball blow the rocks to pieces, hiding behind the ridge, he can feel the scorching heat waves on his face, and his heart feels like his heart is about to be crushed when lying on the ground. The trembling earth was shaken out, and he was terrified.

Just like an infantry platoon stayed in the wide position before, looking at the enemies rushing up in black, Digua was extremely afraid of death.

But why are those big brothers and uncles not afraid?After the military order was issued, their dark and dirty faces were firm and calm. They just tightened their armed belts, checked whether the grenades were inserted tightly, and whether the belts were loose. Then they turned around and followed their officers and brothers. Rush into the fire that could tear them to pieces at any moment.

Don't they have parents?Don't they have wives and children?At the moment when they resolutely rushed into the artillery fire, all the questions became blank in the mind of the young Chuan Bing.

He can only lie on the ridge and watch them jump, watch them roll, watch them fall and get up, and those few who can't get up again.
With a roar from the long line beside him, Sweet Potato jumped out from the ridge, almost subconsciously, the thought of wanting to help those elder brothers or uncles back to safety, overwhelmed the fear of death at that moment of fear.

After rolling and crawling, the military cap with the cap badge disappeared in the air waves. It was the first hat in Digua's life. He usually cherishes it very much, but now he doesn't care about it.

His body and face were slashed with blood by gravel and bushes. It didn't hurt that much at this time. On the contrary, Sweet Potato was full of joy, because he finally got close to a strong brother.

The eldest brother, wearing a dark blue military uniform and a steel helmet, was lying on the hillside. He didn't see much blood on his body, but his face was a little pale, and he couldn't even suppress the black color from the gunpowder smoke.

"Cauldron, cauldron, it hurts where you are, let me wrap it up for you." Digua, who quickly crawled up to the wounded soldier, said repeatedly.

The injured soldier's eyes were half-opened, and he must have fallen into a semi-conscious state. He didn't respond to Digua for a long time, until Digua searched for wounds on his body anxiously. It may have hurt him. He woke up from a coma, and his eyes were in focus. It took a long time to see the small and sweaty Sichuan soldier in front of him, and he groaned in pain.

"Daguo, it's great that you woke up. You told me that you were injured there. I'll bandage it for you. My platoon leader will take the brothers down and carry you back immediately. Don't worry." Dagua was ecstatic, and approached the wounded The soldier comforted loudly.

"Thank you, little brother!" Feeling the care of the little Sichuan army, the wounded soldier felt warm in his heart, struggling to thank in a low voice. "However, don't bother."

"No trouble, no trouble! We are all brothers, you don't have to be so polite." Digua shook his head repeatedly. "Don't worry, you don't have any wounds on your body. You should have been hit by the dog's air wave, and you will recover soon."

"It can't be done, I was bitten by the shell!" Facing the comfort of the young Sichuan soldier, the wounded soldier twitched his cheeks and smiled wryly, trying to open his arms.

An extremely hideous wound was exposed in front of Sweet Potato.

What a terrifying wound, the ribs torn by shrapnel can reach into the entire palm, from the perspective of the sweet potato, one can even vaguely see the slightly undulating internal organs in the wound.

That is at least the damage that a shrapnel the size of a palm can cause.

The reason why Sweet Potato didn't see blood before was because a huge amount of blood flowed out and then soaked into the ground. The wounded soldier's subconscious protection used his arms to cover up this hideous and deadly huge wound.

He couldn't survive, even if Tiangua was a newcomer to the battlefield, he knew that it was impossible to live with this kind of injury.

Tears welled up in Sweet Potato's eyes.

"Don't cry!" The wounded soldier looked at the two lines of young Chuan Jun who were gushing tears, and shook his head with difficulty, looking at his chest, "Help me take it out!"

The sweet potato with two clear tear stains on his face carefully took out a photo from the wounded soldier's pocket.

It was the image of a handsome young soldier wearing a second lieutenant's uniform, a steel helmet, and a submachine gun standing erect. Behind him was a window, and some vague buildings could still be seen vaguely.

"This is a photo taken by reporter Tantai. If possible, let the officers send it home for me. My parents hope that I will be famous. Show them this photo. They should be very happy!" the wounded soldier murmured Soliloquy. "Little brother, I leave my gun to you to kill devils!"

"I don't want your gun, I don't want it!" Digua burst into tears and shook his head desperately.

The wounded soldier's gun fell two meters away. It was an almost new medium-sized rifle. At most, he had only seen a good gun made by Hanyang, and he had never seen it before. A gun, he can sleep with this gun every day, and he will wake up with a smile when he dreams happily.

But now, Digua didn't want it at all, he just wanted this wounded soldier he had only seen this side to be alive.

But, I can't live!

The wounded soldier's face became paler and paler, and before the second lieutenant platoon leader crawled over with a few people on a stretcher, he was silent.

When the greatest wish in the heart is realized, the tenacious vitality will eventually wither in front of the fatal wound.

Independence Battalion Sergeant Meng Qianqiu, dead!

After the Battle of Guangde, Meng Qianqiu was specially promoted to the rank of second lieutenant by the 43rd Army, and his military career ended up matching the military uniform he borrowed from his superior in the photo.

His mother received her son's posthumous photo two years later, and put the photo of her son on her chest every day, and died of illness a few months later.

As a mother, what you want is not for your son to be successful, but for everything to be healthy.

It's a pity that the son hasn't lived to the age of understanding his parents, so he doesn't understand.

Even those who have never been parents have no way of understanding the pain in the hearts of parents after losing their children.

Pain into the bone marrow, it would be better to die than myself.

. . . . . . . .

Sweet Potato, owns the best gun in his infantry platoon.

The blood stains on the gun have never been wiped off by the sweet potato who loves the gun very much.

The blood in the cauldron seemed to be always warm, never cold!

(End of this chapter)