There was already a glimmer of light in the east, and after a few more minutes, by 4 o'clock sharp, the navy was bombarding the coast. All the warships supporting the landing battle fired 10,000 guns at a rate of less than two seconds, shaking the night like a giant log tossed in the midst of a monstrous wave. Every time a cannon was fired, there was a bang on the warship, causing a turmoil in the hull of the ship, and waves swelled in all directions. The trembling night was torn apart, and in such a short moment, an endless expanse was revealed.

After the first volley, there was a scattered artillery bombardment, as if the storm had passed, and it was almost black again. The deafening sound of the cannon was clearly defined, and it sounded like a freight train of its own length, rushing and struggling uphill. Later, even the terrible whistling of shells flying through the air could be heard.

The first shells landed in the sea, painlessly setting off a column of water in the distance, but then a succession of shells blossomed on the beach. The positions of the American troops on the coast suddenly woke up, like a pile of dead ashes, and they burst into flames again. At the junction of the jungle and the beach, small flames erupted everywhere, and occasionally a cannonball went over its head, and the burning woods were very large. The firelight outlined the outline of the beach, shimmering as if a harbor had been seen in the middle of the night.

An American arsenal was hit and burst into flames, and an orange flame rose into the sky, reflecting a corner of the beach. A few shells hit the middle of the fire again, and the flames flew half a day high, rolling up black and red billowing smoke, and soared into the sky. The artillery fire hit the beach as if it had removed a layer of skin, and then extended the fire inland. At this time, the way of firing cannons has become much calmer, one cannon after another, as if carelessly. Several warships came in batches and fired a burst of artillery, then turned around and sailed away, and another batch came to bombard. The arsenal was still a day of flames, but most of the fires on the beach had no smoke, and by the time night began and dawn dawned, the smoke had mostly dispersed, revealing a bend in the shore. There was a hill about a mile deep, and something was on fire at the top of the mountain, and the hills far behind it seemed to rise high in the smoke of gunpowder. Despite the new purple blanket under their feet, the hills sat indifferently on the shore, staring intently at the sea. In front of this mountain, the bombardment of the fleet seemed insignificant.

The sounds in the troop cabin are much deeper and more stereotyped, just like taking the subway, and there is always a rumbling sound in my ears, which is very annoying. After breakfast, the electric lights in the cabin were turned on, and the dim yellow light cast many shadows on the hatches and the layers of hammocks, but also illuminated the faces of the soldiers. Some of the soldiers gathered in the aisles, others clustered around the ladders leading to the deck.

Fukui, who returned to the cabin, listened to the noise and felt anxious. He sat on a hatch, and he wouldn't be startled if the hatch under his ass fell cold. He blinked blood-red eyes at the weak light of the light bulb, wishing he couldn't see, hear, and know nothing. But as soon as the rumbling sound that echoed around the bulkhead copper plate was louder, his legs would involuntarily twitch. He has been silently muttering to himself, inexplicably always reciting a sentence from an old joke: "I'm still dead, let's die, it's better to die." "In the jaundice-like light in front of him, his skin looked swarthy. He was a short, thin man, with a very delicate face, neat hair, and a fine face with well-defined eyebrows. Even at this moment, there is still a deer-like posture and demeanor that can be seen from him. No matter how fast his movements are, he always seems so rounded and free. His head, like a deer, never has much stability, and his black eyes never rest for a while.

The sound of the cannon was so muffled that Fukui could sometimes make out some voices in the cannon sound, but he could only hear half a word, and in the blink of an eye, he couldn't hear it clearly. The various units were all in a mess, each with its own noise, and it was often the officer's voice that buzzed in the ears like a small insect flying by, faintly and annoyingly. "Listen up, everyone! No one is allowed to go away on the shore. Be sure to stay focused! Stay focused! ”

Compared with other detachments, the reconnaissance detachment is small in number and inconspicuous. At this time, the officer was telling everyone about the landing craft, and Xiang Nan listened in a daze, thinking that he was always going to desert. "Okay," the officer's voice was a little annoyed, "we already had experience in this area last time, so let's do it the same way this time." Supposedly, there shouldn't be any problems, but don't have any problems when the time comes. ”

Fukui looked around into the cabin. The hammocks had been tied up with straps, so the aisle between the bunks of the detachment seemed very spacious, and it seemed strange that he was not used to it, which made him feel a little uncomfortable. "I'd better die with Suo's surname, let's die," the words flashed through his mind again. He quickly settled down. Today, I'm just afraid that there will be more luck and less luck. The Buddha is compassionate and always gives you a premonition in advance, so you must ...... Gotta be careful, be guarded. He said the second half of the sentence to himself.

The whistle blew and startled him. A voice on the deck shouted to the cabin, "Ship 15, get on!" So a detachment of soldiers went up the stairs. The voices of the soldiers around him suddenly became much softer, and Fukui knew that everyone's hearts were tense. He secretly complained: Why can't he let his team go first? Wait one more minute to get one more minute of nervousness, how can you stand it. He is now convinced that he must be more than lucky.

It was an hour before it was their turn. They squeezed up the ladder one by one, went out of the hatch, and spun around the hatch for a minute before receiving the order to prepare to board. Early in the morning, the deck was slippery, and they could only walk slowly along the deck, stumbling and cursing with hatred along the way. When they came to the davit on which their landing craft was attached, they hastily formed a column and had to stop and wait. The morning was cold, and Fukui shivered. Before six o'clock, a depressing atmosphere had already taken shape -- in the army, as usual, there was such an atmosphere every morning, which always made people feel that they were about to leave again, and that new problems and unpleasant things were coming again. There are so many landing craft on board, and the speed of boarding and releasing the boat is different. Some of them had already gone down into the water with a full load of soldiers, and were circling around the big boat, like puppies on a leash. The people in the boat were all waving to the big boat, and the silver-gray hull and the blue water in the morning light reflected the skin of their faces like ghosts. The calm water looks like a sea of oil. Nearby, a landing craft was getting on board, and another was just loaded and being launched, and the pulleys of the davit creaked from time to time. But most of the soldiers on deck, like them, were still waiting for orders.

The full backpack was pressed against his back, Fukui's shoulders were numb, and the muzzle of the rifle was constantly colliding with the steel helmet. He was not troubled in his heart, and he said; "I don't know how many times I've carried this terrible backpack, but I always feel awkward to carry it!"

"Maybe the strap didn't get it, right?" Okada asked him. His voice was unnatural and trembling.

"The devil is right," Fukui said. "It's comfortable here, and it hurts there. Anyway, I just can't carry a backpack - I only grow bones and not flesh! He rambled on and on, glancing at Okada from time to time to see if he was still so nervous. It was a little cold, and the sun was on his left, still low, faint, without a little heat. He stamped his feet and sniffed the peculiar smell of the ship's deck: oil, tar, and fish from the sea.

"When are we going to go?" Okada asked him again.

There are still shells flying over the beach. In the dawn, the entire coast was pale green, and there was a faint curling green smoke floating along the shore.

"In my opinion, we won't be able to get off this deck until noon." Okada replied.

As he was talking, he saw a group of landing craft circling about a mile away in the sea, and Fukui comforted Okada and said, "Everyone who stood in front of him is still walking in the sea." He suddenly remembered the battle against Baiyu Island, where the Chinese were stationed, and seemed to feel a trace of panic in his heart. His body seemed to fall into the water again, his fingertips seemed to grip the edge of the rubber boat again, and he could still remember how soft and hard the rubber was, and his throat seemed to taste the smell of sea water again. At that time, he was already struggling to exhaustion, and the artillery fire of the Chinese army still kept fighting, he was so frightened that he could only burrow into the water and whimper silently. When he looked up at the ship again, his haggard face turned a little pale.

In the distance, the jungle next to the beach was a bare and dilapidated scene, a routine baptism of artillery fire. All the trees there had lost their leaves, and all that was left was a pillar-like section, and all that had been on fire was scorched. The hills on the horizon have almost been hidden in the mist, which is a faint blue gray, which can be said to be neither deep nor shallow, just between the water and the sky. As he was watching, a heavy cannonball fell from the shore, and a large column of smoke rose into the sky, larger than the previous columns of smoke. It seems that this landing will not require a lot of effort. Fukui thought to himself—but he still never forgot the rubber boat battle. He gasped, and Suo squatted down.

A cannonball whizzed overhead, and Fukui flinched, and his body hit a gun mount. He really had a feeling of being naked and uncovered.

The structure of the davit on the ship is quite complicated, and some of it is suspended in the water. With a tightly buttoned backpack on his back, a rifle, two bullet belts, a few grenades, plus a bayonet and a steel helmet, I felt that my shoulders and my entire chest were like tourniquets, and it was difficult to breathe, and my hands and feet were numb. What's more, now I have to walk through an overhead gangplank landing craft, this thrilling energy is really tantamount to walking a tightrope in full armor. Finally, the reconnaissance detachment received the order to board the boat, and Aso Shaozo licked his lips nervously. Everyone moved step by step and walked out along the springboard. The eyes should never look at the water, this is the most important thing.

When he got to the landing craft, Fukui jumped into the boat. Carrying such a heavy backpack that he almost fell and twisted his ankle.

Seeing his embarrassed appearance, Okada couldn't help but joke with the commander and asked, "How can our general get on such a boat?" The general is different from us, he is not young. ”

Someone replied, "Send two soldiers to help him!" This sentence caused the whole boat to laugh, and attracted a loud reprimand from Aso.

The small square-headed landing craft snorted and walked in the sea, looking like an African hippopotamus. The landing craft were roughly forty feet long and ten feet wide, shaped like an uncovered shoe box, with an engine mounted on the back. In the cabin, the front gangplank was constantly hit by the waves, making loud and piercing noises, and the water that had come in through the cracks had already accumulated an inch or two deep, rushing to and fro in the bilge. Fukui wanted to be careful not to get his shoes wet, but now he can't take care of it. The dinghy went around in circles for more than an hour, and he was dizzy. From time to time, a cold silk droplet of water flies and hits the body, which makes people startled, which is really a bit unpleasant. The first troops had already reached the shore a quarter of an hour earlier, and at this moment there was a slight sound of gunfire in the distance, that is, there was a firefight on the beach, crackling, and sounding like burning dry firewood. In order to relieve the boredom of drying, Fukui often poked his head out and looked up from the bulwark.

Three miles into the sea, there was still no sign of anyone on the shore, but there were signs of battle: a cloud of foggy smoke drifting towards the sea. Occasionally, three squadrons of "Comet" destroyers flew straight to the island with a loud roar, and only to return with a long delay the aftermath of the engine, which echoed in a low voice. The swooping motion of the plane towards the beach is difficult to see, because the small shadow of the plane is so bright that it is impossible to tell what time it is. The smoke and dust kicked up by the bomb looked small and painless, and by the time the explosion reached the sea, the plane had already flown almost without a trace.

In order to reduce the burden on his back, Fukui tightly pressed his backpack against the bulkhead. It's really annoying to go around in endless circles. He glanced at the thirty soldiers who were huddled in the cabin with him, and suddenly felt that their uniforms looked so green against the blue-gray cabin. He couldn't help but take a few long breaths, but he didn't dare to move. Sweat suddenly oozed from his back.

At this very moment, two or three hundred yards away from the boat, an American shell suddenly fell on the sea, rushing up a column of water -- this was the first time in half an hour that the Americans had fired artillery. The sound of this cannon was surprisingly loud, and no one could help but wince. There was silence in the dinghy.

The sound of the machine on the landing craft suddenly turned from light to loud. After a circle, the boat headed straight for shore. The front gangplank was immediately hit by the waves, and the splashes of foam and water fell on the soldiers' bodies like a mountain spring. There was an exclamation of surprise, followed by silence. Fukui, in order to avoid water from the barrel, took the gun off his shoulder and covered the muzzle with his finger. He really had the feeling of galloping at this moment.

"It's time for the people on the beach to be cleared," muttered someone who was there.

Near the stern of the boat stood Okada. Fukui saw that his face was pale, and he didn't say a word, knowing that he must be very scared in his heart, he couldn't settle down for a moment, he couldn't sit in his place, he didn't stand, and twice there was a noise in the cold, and he was startled. When his leg was itchy, he scratched it as hard as he could. Fukui watched him pull his left trouser leg out of the leather legging, rolled it up to his knee, carefully dipped it in a little spit, and rubbed it on the red and swollen place on his knee. Fukui shook his head and moved his ass back, he felt the landing craft under his feet flying towards land, but his heart was empty, no matter whether the future was bad or good, he had to wait to bear it.

All the pains of last night, all the fears of this morning, have always been pressed on my heart, and they have reached their highest peak at this moment. He was afraid that the moment he put down the gangplank and rushed out of the boat, he always felt that a shell would fly in and pay them all off, or a machine gun would be pointed at the bow of the boat, and they would come and shoot as soon as they appeared. Now that no one spoke, as soon as Fukui closed his eyes, he felt the sound of the rushing waves outside the dinghy crushing his head and face, and his legs were weak. He quickly opened his eyes, pointed his nails at his palms, and the sweat dripping from his head flowed into his eyes, and he wiped his hands so-so. I was puzzled: how did I become so quiet? Yes, it was silent: everyone was silent, and the beach was silent, except for the lone machine gun muttering from far away, which sounded empty and distorted. Suddenly, a plane whizzed overhead, and it flew over the jungle with a thud. Fukui almost lost his voice and screamed. He felt the muscles in his legs twitch again. Why don't you go ashore yet? He was already in a state of mind: as soon as the springboard was put down, he would go and accept the great calamity that he could not escape.

Fukui suddenly realized that the landing craft had stopped. The rumbling sound of the engine has long since changed its tone, louder than before, but it is a little empty and unreal, as if the propeller is no longer playing water. It took a while to realize that it had already arrived.

This is America?

They didn't move for a while. Finally, the gangplank was put down with a bang, and Fukui didn't say a word, dragging his heavy steps down into the water, and a wave hit behind him, splashing straight into the crook of his knee, and he stumbled unconsciously.

(To be continued)