Suddenly, a fiery snake erupted not far away. The pen ~ fun ~ pavilion www.biquge.info is Li Changqing, he is here to change the guard, this guy has always been anxious, and wants to kill the enemy behind the bunker with a shuttle bullet. The Thomson submachine gun is also American-style equipment, and it is very lethal in jungle combat.

The bullets all hit the rocks with a crisp metallic crash and sparks flew everywhere. The scrivener secretly scolded Li Changqing and his second uncle, such a fight is purely a waste of bullets, and it is easy to expose himself by shooting at night.

"Pay attention to concealment, do not easily expose the point of fire." The scrivener yelled under his breath.

Before the words were finished, the enemy's counterattack began. Several shells landed around Li Changqing with the whistling sound of flying, and the stones flew wildly, and a strong smell of blood and burnt paste diffused in the air.

Li Changqing died, and his flesh and stones were splashed into pieces together, but in fact, he was only seven or eight meters away from the cave, and he could retreat in two big steps.

"Li Changqing, you fucking bastard!" The fist of the scrivener slammed hard against the rock, and it hurt to the bone, but the heart hurt even more.

The second counterattack was Li Yunfa, whose M1911 Garand rifle in his hand continuously fired at the opponent's position, which was more of a vent and had almost no target. He and Li Changqing came to change the guard together, and they had just entered the position. Li Changqing, who was laughing just now, had no bones left in an instant, and Li Yunfa couldn't accept it. They are from the same village, the same clan, serving as soldiers together, and going abroad to fight together. Li Changqing's death caused Li Yunfa to lose his mind and leave the warning of the scrivener box behind.

Boom, boom, a couple of shells. The small tree next to Li Yunfa was blown into the sky.

The scrivener's fist slammed into the rock again, and the loss of two brothers in a short period of time was infuriating in such a senseless way. It was supposed to be a one-sided hunting feast, with their own side firmly in control of the game, but now it is completely reversed, and the enemy's counterattack has become handy.

"Grandma, no one is allowed to shoot again, pay attention to concealment!" The scrivener roared. The gunfire had drawn everyone out, and as soon as everyone knew what was going on, the crowd was so excited that it was easy to get out of control. The scrivener is the biggest official of all, and he must stand up and calm the scene.

The current casualty ratio is two to three, and it seems that one side has the advantage. But the scrivener knows in his heart that if it is consumed one-on-one, it is his own side that suffers. They only have seven or eight comrades-in-arms left, and the enemy still has a company, and one-on-one attrition is definitely not good. The scrivener suddenly thought of one thing: tonight's incident may be a trap, and the enemy is trying to lead him into a one-on-one battle of attrition with human lives.

"I repeat, no one is allowed to shoot!" The scrivener commanded in the tone of a chief.

No one shoots anymore, and no one is exposed anymore. The enemy's shells became aimless, and after a few sporadic shots, they disappeared. They have very few shells left, and they will no longer be scattered aimlessly.

The rainforest is silent, and frightened mosquitoes regroup, circling around people's heads. The air was filled with a strong smell of blood, recording the battle that had just taken place. The scrivener ordered everyone to be on alert, and the enemy could launch an offensive before dawn. The rainforest is heavily foggy around dawn and visibility is low, and enemies often use this time to launch onslaught. The fog here tends to have a slight toxin, and the aborigines call this fog miasma. Dead leaves and dead animal carcasses have been deposited on the ground for hundreds of years, and after decay, they form toxins that are harmful to humans. At dawn, the fog condenses, and the toxins volatilize and attach to the fog, forming a specific miasma accumulation area.

Indigenous people generally do not choose to go out around dawn, and if they catch up with the miasma, they will bleed to death within a few minutes. Both the scrivener and the Japanese soldiers had learned the power of miasma, but they still chose to fight during this time period more than once.

The scrivener ordered all the soldiers to be on heightened alert. Li Yunfa and Li Changqing died, and a total of seven fighters were still alive, including the scrivener. Among them was an Englishwoman, Rena, who was wounded and couldn't even count half of her combat strength.

The damp fog spreads continuously in the rainforest, and visibility is less than 20 meters. The scrivener and his soldiers began to fire their guns sporadically to psychologically deter the enemy, but the effect was limited. What really worked was the mines planted around the position, and whenever there was an explosion somewhere, the Thomson machine gun would fire at it as soon as possible. The enemy would take cover in the fog, as would the scrivener, and he and his men would spend a few mornings laying mines and waiting for the enemy to take the bait. Because of this, scrivener boxes and others have been able to persist until now.

It was a quiet morning, and there was no movement except for the occasional birdsong. The rising sun drives away the fog and creates a world of clarity. The scrivener looked through the mist at the slanting sun, blood red. The bodies of Li Changqing and Li Yunfa were lying not far away, also red in blood. Li Changqing's upper body was gone, and the chest-length part revealed charred flesh. Li Yunfa had a branch the size of a child's arm stuck in his chest, and the small tree that was blown away by the shell was inserted into his chest, and the blood stained his clothes all over his body.

The scrivener gently wiped the blood on Li Yunfa's face, the deceased's face was very calm, they had already been prepared enough for death, including Li Yunfa. From the moment China entered Burma, death has always accompanied every fighter. Especially after entering Savage Mountain, it is as if you have fallen into hell all of a sudden. Infectious diseases, poisonous snakes and beasts, leeches, swamps, floods, non-combat attrition occurs every day, and the worst thing is that they have 3 battalions of the 288th regiment, and there are only six people left in the entire battalion.

"Little monkey, dig a pit." The scrivener said in a deep voice while sorting out Li Yunfa's clothes.

A skinny young man crawled over from the other side of the trench, already thin, but after many days of fighting and hunger, he had become even more skinny. The little monkey is the descendant of the scrivener, and the scrivener box is the commander of the third company, and the little monkey has been following him before and after the saddle, counting five years.

The little monkey found a relatively dry place and dug a hole with a dagger. The atmosphere became very depressing, everyone squatted in the trenches in a daze, death was no longer afraid of them, what was really afraid was that everyone could not see a glimmer of hope for life. There were only seven people left alive, with a large number of well-equipped Japanese soldiers in front and a savage mountain like a man-eating man in the back, and they were in a dilemma.

The fog cleared, and the corpses thrown on the edge of the bushes were gone, and the Japanese soldiers took advantage of the fog to get the corpses away. The scrivener scolded grandma, bent down and climbed into the largest cave on the battlefield. This was their temporary place of stay, and they dug trenches with this cave as a fulcrum, firmly held this high ground like a nail, and successfully completed the blocking task assigned by the division headquarters.

The corners of the cave, covered with weeds and branches, are places where the changing of the guard rests, and on the other side are the few ammunition and a damaged radio station. The damp cave smelled of musty and feces, and when the enemy was under heavy fire, it was only possible to defecate in the cave.

The scrivener is half lying on the weeds and closes his eyes to recuperate, whether to advance or retreat must be decided as soon as possible, and if it is consumed, it will definitely die. Fragmentary footsteps could be heard from the depths of the cave, it was the Englishwoman Rena. She had injuries on her feet and hands, making her unfit for war, so she took on the task of being a cook. Outside the trenches were fraught with danger, and there were not many opportunities to find food. Fortunately, this cave is very long, inhabited by all kinds of small animals and insects, which have become Rena's prey. Rena's harvest today was not much, just a few mountain frogs and some strangely shaped mushrooms.

Rena shook her prey in front of the scrivener, then smiled flatteringly. When the Englishwoman first arrived, she was swaggering and showed a sense of superiority at every turn. She graduated from Oxford University and was a second lieutenant in the British Army in Burma. As the battle deepened, especially after entering the Savage Mountain, this British female officer finally lowered her noble head. Every day she is dying, and her life is no different from someone else's. Rena's leg was injured while crossing the swamp, and several leeches burrowed into the muscle tissue of her calf, and Rena pulled it out desperately, resulting in the front half of the leech's body breaking in the muscle, causing the wound to become infected. Rena was afraid that the scrivener and others would abandon her, so she took the initiative to take on the task of cooking to show that she was still valuable.

There is another reason for Rena to curry favor with the scrivener: after entering the Savage Mountain, she fled all the way, and the gender difference was ignored. When everyone was stationed in this cave, everything quietly changed. Without the hardship of escaping, the soldiers were hiding in the cave and getting bored, and only then did they notice that there was a woman beside them. Objectively speaking, Rena does have a bit of a look, with the face of a typical Western woman, a hot body and a firm chest. The eyes of these young Chinese soldiers began to look strange at Rena, and the soldiers who had survived the baptism of death after baptism had become numb to morality and humanity. What they need is an indulgence, an indulgence before they die. Death will come to them at any time, and there is no hope of life, and people will go crazy to the point of losing the last shred of reason.

Rena is like a lamb curled up in a wolf's den, ready to be torn apart at any moment. The first to make a move was the platoon commander Lu Shuting, who pounced on Rena like a hungry wolf, unleashing his rough wildness. Rena struggled desperately, but to no avail. There were also seven or eight pairs of wild eyes next to her, and her resistance seemed so weak and helpless. At this time, the gun rang out, and the bullet hit two meters above Lu Shuting's head, and the bullet collided with the rock and sent out a cloud of sparks.