War Photographer's Notebook

Chapter 1591: New Year's gift in advance and the mission of Class

In the dugout filled with the smell of blood, Wei Ran, with the help of Zhao Jinge and others, struggled to straighten the soldier's broken arm and fix it with a splint.

However, his "diagnosis and treatment" work did not stop, because these two were only seriously injured. Although the others were not seriously injured, many of them had minor injuries.

Colds and frostbite are the most common. In serious cases, people either have a high fever or even their ears freeze off.

Although Wei Ran was not very good at treating frostbite, fortunately he knew that Hu Bazhi had frostbite ointment on him, so he called him in without hesitation.

As for those suffering from colds, all they had to do was ask Zhao Jinyu, who was in charge of making the Feilong Soup outside, to put more ginger slices brought from Hu Bazhi's home into the soup - this was also their only solution.

With his help, each of the 25 anti-Japanese fighters had their chilblains on their faces, hands and feet treated with a layer of chilblain cream.

Finally, Hu Bazhi generously handed the Japanese lunch box containing frostbite cream to the old squad leader and said, "Apply it once every night before going to bed and once every morning when you wake up. It will be healed in seven or eight days."

Seeing the old squad leader subconsciously put his nose close to smell it, Hu Bazhi explained honestly, "It's made with dog stomach oil, ginseng, and purple grass. It's very useful."

"It can be used as gun oil," the old squad leader said subconsciously.

"Dangdang what?" Hu Bazhi didn't react for a moment.

"Gun Oil"

It was Zhao Jinge who repeated the question, "It's so cold in the Heishui and Baishan Mountains in winter that even guns can freeze."

"Aren't there gun oil in the bags we seized from the Japanese?" Wei Ran asked puzzledly.

“Their gun oil is bad.”

Tian Xiaohu, who had to sit barefoot on the edge of the kang to dry his feet because of the chilblain cream on his feet, answered with particular disdain, "When the weather gets cold, they freeze into ice. How can our old hen gun oil be as useful?"

"What is old hen gun oil?" Wei Ran asked blankly.

"This is it!"

As Tian Xiaohu spoke, he took out a gun oil bottle made by the Japanese from his arms and handed it to Wei Ran to look at. He kept explaining, "We make this ourselves by mixing chicken oil from old hens with cottonseed oil. It's much better than the Japanese gun oil and won't freeze even in the coldest weather."

Hearing this, Wei Ran couldn't help but grin. At least in this era, mineral oil was definitely inferior to animal fat. He just didn't expect that these anti-Japanese fighters had already discovered this.

  It is a pity that such valuable combat experience was not passed down. If Yang Zirong, the bandit-suppression hero who came a few years later, knew this method, perhaps

“It can actually cure frostbite, too.”

Another soldier who was sitting next to Tian Xiaohu and had just applied frostbite cream added naively, "If you're really hungry, you can eat it or use it as an oil lamp, but no one wants to give it away."

"It's okay for people to go hungry or freeze for a while. But if the gun is frozen and can't fire, how can we kill the Japanese?" another soldier said as a matter of course.

"I'll go and get the oil out of that big mule!"

Before Hu Bazhi could finish his words, he turned around and crawled out of the dugout.

"I'll go and help too." Before Wei Ran finished his words, he had already returned the gun oil bottle to Tian Xiaohu, put on his dog-skin hat, and chased after him.

"Let's go check it out too."

As Old Zhang spoke, he wrapped his feet in cloth and stepped on his cotton shoes. He also filled his pipe with the Japanese tobacco that Hu Bazhi and Wei Ran had given to everyone. Before this, they had been out of tobacco for more than half a month and had to rely on some dried lichens to satisfy their craving.

Hearing this, Zhao Jinge also wrapped his feet and put on big-toed cotton shoes, carefully put on the leather hat that Zhao Jinyu made for him, and walked out of the warm dugout.

What was quite tacit was that before leaving the dugout, the two men both looked at the spoils piled on the kang and the ground at the deepest part of the dugout for a while.

Not to mention the rifles that had not been moved in yet, the 50 Japanese backpacks piled at the end of the kang were a real treat. They contained not only rice, which they had forgotten how long it had been since they had eaten it, but also thick waterproof canvas, marching blankets, and even scarce items such as socks and shovels.

In particular, the lunch boxes fixed on the bags usually contained one or two cans of Japanese beef, some biscuits, and even condiments such as soy sauce.

As for Taro's bags, they were mostly filled with miscellaneous items, including some cash and valuables, as well as things like candy and letters from home, not to mention the kettles.

Of course, compared to these objects, what caught the Anti-Japanese Allied Forces’ eyes the most were actually the captured bullets, grenades, grenade launchers and even the rifles placed outside.

According to the Japanese standards, a single soldier carries 120+5 rounds of bullets. Although the grenade launcher group carries fewer rounds, the machine gun group carries more. After deducting the consumption in the previous brief exchange of fire, it is roughly calculated that at least five or six thousand rounds of bullets were seized this time.

That's not even counting the thirty or forty rounds of various types of bullets that each puppet soldier had on him. If we count the bullets on them, at least six or seven thousand rounds of bullets were seized this time.

Not to mention, they also received cotton-padded clothes that were almost life-saving, as well as 13 mule sleds outside.

For the anti-Japanese fighters who were in such adverse circumstances, this was definitely a great victory, a great gift, and an unexpected supply that needed to be digested as soon as possible.

"We can't eat so much, we need to distribute it as soon as possible."

As soon as they walked out of the dugout, Zhao Jinge whispered worriedly, "Also, we need to move as soon as possible before the Japanese find this place. It would be best if we could send Xiao Shen and the other two away as well, to a safer place, or to a fellow villager's home."

"How do you plan to divide it?" asked Old Zhang.

"Let our comrades get equipped first," Zhao Jinge thought for a moment and continued, "Send the rest to the army commander and let him distribute it."

"Who do you plan to let go?" Old Zhang asked the second key question.

"What do you think?" Zhao Jinge threw the question back this time.

"Let the soldiers from squad three take charge," said Old Zhang.

  Hearing this, Zhao Jinge was stunned for a moment. Apart from Zhao Jinshan who was delivering a letter to the Russian territory, wasn't there only Tian Xiaohu in the third shift?

"Also, these three new soldiers should be added to the third squad." Old Zhang continued.

"Jin Yu is not needed, let him stay in Class 1." Zhao Jinge said without thinking.

"You don't find this rookie a burden, but do others find it a burden too?"

Old Zhang puffed on his pipe and snorted, "When he can't run anymore, will you carry him or should I?"

Seeing that Zhao Jinge didn't say anything, Old Zhang said slowly after a moment of silence, "At least leave a descendant for your Zhao family."

"Where are the other soldiers?" Zhao Jinge asked back.

"Are there any rookies among the other soldiers?" Old Zhang asked unhappily.

Seeing that Zhao Jinge didn't say anything, Old Zhang took another puff of his pipe and handed it over, "It's settled. Let Xiaohu and the three newcomers be responsible for transporting the supplies together."

After a short pause, Old Zhang lowered his voice and said, "In addition to the supplies, we need to send Wei Ran over as well. It would be a waste of his talent to keep him in our guerrilla team. Remember to write a letter to the commander to explain the situation."

"It's time to write a letter," Zhao Jinge nodded helplessly.

Old Zhang thought for a while and said, "By the way, pass on the news we got a few days ago."

"it is good"

Zhao Jinge simply agreed, "I'll write the letter right now."

"Let them go as soon as possible," Old Zhang warned worriedly, "Let them go tonight."

While the two of them were standing at the entrance of the dugout making the decision, not far away, Wei Ran was helping Hu Bazhi to cut off the fat, lard and other parts of the mule that was killed in the explosion and threw them into a large iron pot placed in the dugout of a pine tree and slowly boiled them.

In another tree nest not far away, two other large pots guarded by Zhao Jinyu were stewing large chunks of mule meat and the flying dragon soup that was about to be served.

While the oil was boiling, Hu Bazhi took the initiative to scrape the meat from the mule skin and threw it into the oil pot. He then cut it open while explaining, "I think this big mule skin can be used to sew a pair of boots for everyone. Although it's not as good as the ones you wear, at least it can be worn over the big cotton shoes to keep out the ice and snow, and it also saves shoes."

"Don't you need to tan the leather?" Wei Ran asked curiously.

"No need, it's on the outside anyway, so it doesn't matter if it's a little harder."

Hu Bazhi said as he picked up the cut leather. "Brother Wei, you stay by the oil pan. I'll go back and ask them to help sew. This way we can go faster."

"Okay." Wei Ran nodded and watched Hu Bazhi go into the dugout.

Almost at the same time when he was scooping out the browned oil residue from the wok, Zhao Jinyu next to him used a large birch bark spoon to fill the lunch boxes of the captured Japanese soldiers with stewed mule meat, while Wei Ran gave each of them a tray of oil residue sprinkled with coarse salt.

They first sent the steaming lunch boxes into the dugout, and then Wei Ran and the other man carried in the Feilong soup pot, and filled each Anti-Japanese Allied Forces soldier's lunch box lid with hot soup.

After Tian Xiaohu gave each person another boiled potato, the soldiers who were sitting side by side on the edge of the kang, drying their feet with frostbite ointment and learning from Hu Bazhi how to sew simple boots, finally put down the various large and small sewing needles or anything similar that they had found from the devils' bags, as well as the boots that were less than half sewn, under the repeated urging of Wei Ran and Zhao Jinyu.

"Thanks to Comrade Wei Ran, Comrade Hu Bazhi, and Comrade Zhao Jinyu."

Zhao Jinge held his lunch box and said, "Comrades, we can be considered to be celebrating the New Year in advance! Let's eat as much as we can today!"

Before the soldiers who had received lunch boxes could cheer, Hu Bazhi had already taken out his wine gourd from his arms and said shyly, "Only meat is not enough for the New Year. I have a gourd of sorghum wine here."

"I also have a kettle of sorghum wine here!" Zhao Jinyu said with a silly grin, "I stole it from Brother Hu's house." "I knew it a long time ago," Hu Bazhi said with a smile.

Hearing this, Zhao Jinyu just scratched the back of his head and laughed foolishly. However, Wei Ran, who originally also wanted to take out the stolen wine and share it with everyone, wisely chose to give up.

Soon, Zhao Jinyu and Hu Bazhi emptied the kettle and wine gourd containing sorghum wine respectively, and each of the twenty or so soldiers also got half a cup of mellow sorghum wine.

Taking this opportunity, Wei Ran quietly retreated to the entrance of the dugout, raised his Robert camera with a wide-angle lens, and took a photo of these young soldiers holding cups, who were so happy that they looked like they were really celebrating the New Year.

"Captain Zhao, squad leader Zhang."

Wei Ran held the small aluminum bowl issued by the Japanese and clinked it lightly with the two men. Then he took a sip of the sorghum wine in the cup and asked, "I want to ask you a question."

"What's the problem?" Zhao Jinge also took a sip of sorghum wine and asked curiously.

Looking at Old Zhang who was also staring at him curiously, Wei Ran hesitated for a moment and then asked, "If... I mean, if I have two baskets with things in them that I'm going to give to you, what would you most like to have in them?"

"What kind of problem is this?" Old Zhang asked in confusion.

"Isn't this celebrating the New Year in advance? Just chatting nonsense!"

Wei Ran laughed and said, "So I want to ask what kind of New Year's gift you want most, such as guns, bullets, medicine, food and drink, or..."

"If there really were two baskets"

Tian Xiaohu put down the bone he had been chewing and said, "I want two baskets of Japanese heads. The higher the rank, the better."

"You have some weird ideas!"

The soldier with the Sichuan accent laughed and said, "If it were me, I'd rather put my wife and my blind uncle in that basket!"

"What are you letting them do?"

A young soldier who obviously grew up in the north asked, imitating the former's Sichuan accent, and unsurprisingly, the soldiers in the dugout burst into laughter.

"Damn it, don't try to imitate my way of speaking!"

The Sichuan soldier held a lunch box in one hand and a piece of mule meat in the other and said loudly, "What's wrong with me missing my wife?"

"Old Li, if you want a wife, then just want a wife. Why do you bring your blind uncle with you?" another soldier asked with great joy while gnawing on a large piece of meat.

"My blind great uncle is incredible!"

The soldier called Lao Li, who looked no more than thirty years old like Zhao Jinge, swallowed the meat in his mouth and argued, "He is very accurate in fortune-telling, he is simply a fortune teller! I want him to tell me when we can drive away the Japanese!"

As soon as these words were spoken, the dugout suddenly became quiet, and then the soldiers began to speak one after another. More and more strange things appeared in the two non-existent bamboo baskets.

  Unfortunately.

Wei Ran could not prepare any of the "New Year's gifts" they wanted in advance.

He couldn't even speak a word, couldn't give even a few words of encouragement to these desperate warriors who saw no hope but were still extremely optimistic.

As the discussion became more and more lively, the soldiers filled their stomachs with mule meat, and after drinking the few sips of wine in their bowls, they each drank several large bowls of boiling hot Feilong soup.

However, these soldiers who were sweating profusely after eating did not rest. Most of them kept picking up the greasy and slightly smelly mule skins and continued to sew boots to go over their newly acquired cotton shoes under the guidance of Hu Bazhi.

In addition, Lao Zhang picked a few soldiers and took them to quietly leave the cave and went to an unknown place.

"Comrade Wei Ran, how about helping me?"

Zhao Jinge, who was also sewing boots, spoke before Wei Ran was about to sew shoes for the leaving soldiers.

"What do you need me to do?" Wei Ran asked curiously.

"Help everyone write a letter home," Zhao Jinge said abruptly, "Wait until you develop the photos and send them back along with the letters."

"That's good." Wei Ran nodded and agreed.

"Just follow the order in which you took photos of the guys."

Before Zhao Jinge finished speaking, a soldier hurriedly said, "I'm the first one, I'll go first!"

"I'll go find it."

"I've prepared everything for you," said Zhao Jinge, taking out a thick stack of Japanese letter paper from the head of the kang and handing it to Wei Ran.

"Then come."

As Wei Ran spoke, he pulled over a small stool and sat down on the edge of the kang, then took out a pen using the cover of his coat pocket.

In fact, ever since he entered the battlefield of Teng County and luckily came back alive, he has been practicing traditional Chinese characters intentionally or unintentionally, especially after the "beating" of Xuqing Shuyu. Now, even if it is difficult for him to write a letter in traditional Chinese characters, the most he can do is to forget the characters occasionally. At that time, he can just use simplified characters instead.

"I want to write a letter to my mother, but I don't know if she is still alive."

The soldier sat on the edge of the kang next to Wei Ran, sewing a pair of sandals while expressing his longing and worry for his mother, and how well he lived here, how brave he was in fighting the Japs, what achievements he had made, and his promise that he would definitely drive the Japs away.

  This letter written by Wei Ran did not contain any worrying difficulties, even though.

Wei Ran couldn't help but look at the large patches of frostbite on the soldier's face and half of his left ear that had been frozen off.

"Hey! Let's lie to my mother so she won't worry."

The soldier scratched the back of his head with a bit of embarrassment and explained, "My mother only has me as her son. If she knew how hard life is here, she would definitely come here."

"We should lie to her, right?"

Wei Ran sighed silently, "Is there anything else you want to say? There is still a lot that can be written on this paper."

"Instructions."

The soldier grinned, wiped his face, and continued to sew his greasy boots while mumbling, "Tell her to dress warmly, eat well, and remember to burn some paper money for my father. That's all."

"it is good"

Wei Ran finished writing the last few strokes and nodded, "What's the address?"

"Lingyuan County, Rehe Province." Without thinking, the soldier gave out an address that was very important to him.

“I’ll deliver it to you.”

Wei Ran looked up and looked at the other person seriously, "Including your photos."

"thanks, thanks!"

The soldier excitedly bowed to Wei Ran repeatedly, which made the latter quickly stand up to stop him. How could he be qualified to accept such a thank you gift?

For most of the next day, Wei Ran sat by the kang and wrote a letter home to each of the 19 soldiers in the dugout, except for the two sick men, the Zhao brothers, and Hu Bazhi.

"Only the old squad leader and a few other people are missing. Where are they?" Wei Ran asked as he put the letter away, "I'll go find them right away."

"no need"

Zhao Jinge gritted his teeth and put on the horsehide boots he had sewn himself over the captured cotton shoes while saying, "The families of these people were killed by the devils. They have no home anymore."

Hearing this, Wei Ran shuddered, silently put away the remaining letters and said, "I will send all your letters later."

"No need for later"

Zhao Jinge said, "I have a task for you now. Please send the letter when the time comes. Tian Xiaohu! Wei Ran! Hu Bazhi! Zhao Jinyu!"

"Yes!" Wei Ran, who originally wanted to ask something, almost subconsciously stood up and responded loudly at the same time as the young Tian Xiaohu.

"Yes!"

Hu Bazhi and Zhao Jinyu also quickly stood up and responded like Wei Ran and the others.

"Although this is only your first day in the Anti-Japanese Alliance, you now have a difficult task to be assigned to you."

Zhao Jinge said, and took out an envelope with beautiful feathers from his arms and handed it to Tian Xiaohu, saying, "Xiaohu, from now on, the three of them will be the soldiers of the third squad, and you will be the acting squad leader."

"Yes!" Tian Xiaohu responded seriously.

"Your guerrilla squad three will be in charge now. Go out immediately to deliver the seriously injured soldiers, the extra cotton clothes, weapons, and the letter to Commander Zhao."

"Yes!" Tian Xiaohu stood at attention and saluted, then stuffed the letter into his arms.