Later in the day, everything calmed down, and the mercenaries managed to capture the village and capture almost all of the villagers - when the two squads began to attack, a Vietnamese was outside the village, and on the side away from the mercenaries, so he managed to escape. Pen | fun | pavilion www. ｂｉｑｕｇｅ。 ｉｎｆｏ

The mercenaries noticed this much later. When the Vietnamese wife and children began screaming and crying hysterically out of fear and not being able to find their husband and father, they realized that someone was missing, but by this time nearly an hour had passed.

"That Vietnamese must have run away." Anthony said with a sad face.

"Indeed." Fan. Dean replied nonchalantly.

"Maybe he's going to bring us a whole bunch of rebels...... No, it must be so, every Vietnamese is in collusion with the rebels, and he can find them. The captain was even more worried.

"Indeed." The Commander remained nonchalant.

"It's very dangerous for us to stay here. Therefore, Fan. Mr. Dean, I demand that the troops return to Hanoi immediately. Anthony Martial demanded ...... Pleading, to be exact, at least his expression and tone were closer to pleading, although the opinion he wanted to express was a request.

But Fan. Dean shrugged. "I'm not going to risk my troops through the jungle in the dark, we're going to stay here and leave tomorrow morning with all the Vietnamese."

"It's just madness, Fan. Mr. Dean. "You obviously don't realize how dangerous it is for our small force to be attacked by a large number of rebels. ”

"You've clearly been frightened by the rebels, Captain." The commander shook his head, then turned and went to discuss the night's defenses with his men, leaving the French alone to be angry - and frightened. Fan. Dean's performance convinced Martial that he would die in this small village whose name he did not know.

But as soon as he left the temporary headquarters house and looked around the village, he found that his fears were both unwarranted and ridiculous: the mercenaries were working in an orderly manner, gathering the villagers into two houses near the center of the village and imprisoning them, renovating the houses on the outskirts of the village to make them stronger for their shelters and battle fortresses, and then digging many pits of different sizes and depths outside the village, and inserting sharpened stakes or bamboo sticks into the traps like the Vietnamese.

Eventually, with that done, the mercenaries began to set up their sentries and distribute their firepower. The outposts were all in dark corners that were difficult for outsiders to see, but they were able to see everything outside, and each of the fire points was carefully designed to form crossfire with adjacent ones, and every road leading to the village was covered by at least two automatic rifles and four rifles. Of course, there were still some dead ends, so some foxholes were dug up again.

Everything is going in an orderly manner and quickly, because everyone is trained and every step is planned; Of course, there were also things that were not planned, such as who exactly should be crouched in the foxholes - and in the end, this task fell to the mercenaries of the reconnaissance team.

"Why us?" If anyone is complaining, then Butz will undoubtedly be the first. He really couldn't stand these things, and when the troops marched in the jungle, the reconnaissance team was responsible for opening the way, and now the troops were camped in a village, and the reconnaissance team was confined to the foxholes.

This simply makes no sense!

But in reality, commanders have many reasons to do this, the simplest and most straightforward one is that only a reconnaissance squad has enough firepower to deal with an emergency.

"We have submachine guns and carbines, and we have enough firepower, and two people can handle a large group of rebels." Smith didn't want to explain, but he did it anyway. Of course, he didn't give Butts a good look either. "Mr. Butts, you'd better keep your eyes open tonight, or you're in big trouble."

"That's what you always say, sir."

"This time it's not just a threat." Then he turned sideways to look at Zhang Biao, "Zhang, you and Butz are in a group, keep an eye on this guy." ”

"No problem, Mr. Smith." Zhang Biao nodded, and then asked, "But do you really think that the rebels will appear tonight?" ”

"It's hard to say." Smith shook his head, then sighed, "If I were the commander of the rebels, I would not attack a village with nearly three hundred enemy troops stationed because of more than a hundred people, and even if I decided to rescue the villagers, I would choose to ambush the enemy army while it was marching. But the Vietnamese ......"

After a pause, he continued: "Based on their past performance, those Vietnamese would not be so impulsive, but our French liaison insisted that we would be attacked tonight. ”

"How does he know?"

"You know, maybe he's just frightened by the rebels." Smith shrugged his shoulders in disgust and left, while Zhang Biao jumped into their foxhole with Butz, who was still depressed. All that has to do now is wait, wait for the rebels to appear, wait for the next morning to come, and, by the way, have something to eat.

It's just that no one has an appetite - canned luncheon meat has long become the most effective tool for reducing appetite, and only when they are particularly hungry and have no other food can the mercenaries have the ability to frown and eat their entire portion, otherwise there will be a lot left-and now Zhang Biao and Butz are not hungry enough.

"Maybe we should wait a while before turning it on." Zhang Biao took out his can, but only glanced at it and put it back in his pocket, while Butz simply didn't take it out.

"Maybe we should go to the Vietnamese kitchen." "Maybe they'll have something to eat," he suggested. ”

However, this was only a suggestion, and neither he nor Zhang Biao were willing to climb out of the foxhole and burrow into a certain house in search of food, and the bad guys stationed in the house might have eaten those things long ago. As a result, they sat motionless in the foxhole, not speaking, but listening attentively, and at the same time trying to see when they would develop such a little appetite.

They just sat there. After a few minutes, someone lifted the blanket that covered the foxhole -- it was Moon. "Did you see that Vietnamese?" He asked.

"Which Vietnamese?" Zhang Biao asked strangely.

"Our guide."

"Nope." The two men in the pit shook their heads together, and then Butz asked, "What's wrong with that fool?" ”

"He's gone. Captain Martial believed he had fled out of fear. The commander believes that this may reveal our specific situation. But Boon Duc Si was not too worried, but he still advised: "Be careful, you two, don't let the Vietnamese bury you in this pit." ”

With that, he let go of the blanket he was holding, and the sound of footsteps indicated that he had gone to another foxhole. The pit was silent again, and in a situation like this, patience was the only option. As for that timid Vietnamese guide, who cares about him? Perhaps, he will leak the situation of the troops to the lurking rebels, but that will only accelerate the destruction of the rebels.

Just wait patiently.

Time passed minute by minute, and it felt like it was just a moment, and then it was already the "second day", and Zhang Biao and Butz also went from being energetic to drowsy. They had no intention of resisting their physical instincts—there were sentinels, after all—and soon they both fell asleep.

And it wasn't just them, except for the sentries and Captain Martial, who had lost sleep from worry, almost all the mercenaries were asleep. Of course, it was at this time that there was activity in the jungle near the village, and a figure slowly walked out, carefully observing the movement of the village, and then took out a white, handkerchief-like thing and waved it left and right in the air a few times. So, more figures emerged from the bushes and began to approach the village.

They move with obvious caution. After all, taking the initiative to attack a village garrisoned by French troops was quite a rare thing for these Vietnamese anti-French fighters, and according to the captured guide, there were nearly 300 enemy troops in the village, so there was no doubt that the operation became even more dangerous.

It was an adventure - and, in fact, it was the result of the over-impulsiveness and personal will of the commander of this anti-French force, which was neither seriously considered nor approved by the majority: Huang Wenyu, the man who gave the order, was born in a mercenary-occupied village, and his brother and a son are still here, now prisoners of mercenaries.

Huang Wenyu decided to save them. But in addition to personal feelings, another reason that prompted him to take the plunge was that no one knew the purpose of the mercenaries occupying the village, not even the guide. Therefore, Huang Wenyu had to consider some even more terrible reasons: perhaps, the French knew that he had joined the anti-French armed forces and knew about his relationship with the village, so they decided to arrest all his relatives, but perhaps, the French were just trying to vent their anger at the defeat, and planned to kill all the people in the village......

It was by no means impossible, but at the same time, Huang Wenyu could not accept the result, so he decided to take a risk and gathered all the anti-French fighters he could muster, a total of more than 200 people, and prepared to storm the village in the dark of night and rescue all the villagers.

However, Huang Wenyu ignored two problems: first, he did not know where the villagers were, and his subordinates did not know, and second, they also did not know the defense configuration of the mercenaries. Perhaps the usual carelessness and carelessness of the French colonial forces and the Vietnamese servant army prevented him from correctly appreciating the difficulty of the problem, but now their opponents had become American mercenaries - and unfortunately, Huang Wenyu still did not know.

Of course, he was careful and cautious, and so were his subordinates. Slowly, little by little, they approached the village, and no sound was made, so that the sentry did not notice the approaching figure dressed in black...... If their opponents were still French, the resistance fighters would have been able to enter the village without a sound, as the French would not have used traps against them. But the Americans dug the trap.

When they reached the edge of the village, and Huang Wenyu was almost about to breathe a sigh of relief, a resistance fighter walking in front of them suddenly disappeared from view...... To be exact, it was not to disappear, many people, including Huang Wenyu, saw him suddenly fall, and clearly heard him let out a short scream.

He seemed to be in control, but could probably be dead, but a brief scream was enough for the sentry.

"Enemy attack!" - Zhang Biao and Butz did not hear the sentinel's warning, but the sound of gunfire woke them up from their dreams. Butz was the first to get up, lifting the blanket and firing at all the standing shadows that came into his sight, and then Zhang Biao also got up, and the carbine began to accompany the submachine gun.

At this moment, the mercenaries in the house also joined the battle with their automatic rifles and rifles, and then the "potato digger", which was favored by the soldiers, began to sound rhythmically.

Huang Wenyu and his subordinates were completely exposed to this sudden burst of bullets. At the first moment, they were completely stunned, and the onslaught of enemy fire stunned the resistance fighters who had only seen the monotonous and slow shooting of rifles. They just stood in their place stupidly, exposing themselves completely and defenselessly to the mercenaries, and it took a while for them to come to their senses.

"Everyone, get out!" It was the only order Huang Wenyu could think of, and yet his men were already doing it—but not a slow, orderly retreat, the resistance fighters simply turned around and ran desperately towards what they thought was safe, chaotic like a swarm of headless flies.

They are fleeing - normal for a group of untrained armed men. Now everyone was only thinking about escaping from the enemy's sight, but bullets caught up from behind, killing the defeated rebels one by one.

Only a few of them were out of sight of the mercenaries, and at a little further away they could not see the Vietnamese dressed in black. However, the mercenaries continued to fire, and none of the weapons stopped firing, and not only that, but the mortars finally fired. Shells continued to fall into the rice paddies outside the village, throwing large quantities of earth into the air, including human fragments.

The rebels who were still alive all hastened their flight. They had learned that it was extremely dangerous to stay around the village, and that even a second longer could cost them their lives. They ran like crazy, but before they could finally make their way into the jungle, some more fell victim to the operation.

Huang Wenyu also died. A lucky mortar shell exploded right in front of him, and he died, leaving not a word of his last words.

However, the mercenaries did not know what they had achieved, and they only remembered to fire wherever there was still movement in the darkness. Thus, this "battle" lasted another fifteen minutes. Dean finally ordered a ceasefire before it was officially over.

The world was calm again, and there was no sound except the wails of the wounded - but the wails did not last long, and for the wounded rebels, blood was pouring out and life was drifting away from them. It only took a few minutes for everything to fall silent again.

It was only then that the mercenaries were truly relieved, but at the same time disappointed: the Vietnamese rebels were not as offensive and strategic as the French believed, and this meant that the mission would not last long, and of course that they would earn less than expected.

They were worried about their income, and at this time, Captain Martial finally relaxed completely.

"I think," said the captain lightly, "the Vietnamese will not be back tonight." The firepower just now was enough to terrify them for a long time. ”

Fan. Dean replied the same, "Yes." ”

"Tonight, we won a victory to celebrate......," Martial thought for a moment, "how many resistors have we eliminated?" ”

"You'll find out tomorrow morning, Captain."

When the sun rose, Martial got what he wanted: the mercenaries counted seventy recognizable bodies, others less recognizable. This number was slightly less than the captain had expected, but it was just as good enough to report to his commander as a result.

He kept a smiling face throughout the morning, as if he had seen himself commended. Yet no one shared his joy, and the mercenaries were burying the bodies - but it was easy, the traps that had been dug yesterday and were not of any use could be used as graves, as well as foxholes.

The mercenaries quickly finished the work, then set a few fires in the village and led the villagers on their way.

The process back to Hanoi was very smooth. Fan. Dean and his commanders had expected the rebels to attack the troops on the march, disrupting the order with a sudden ambush, rescuing the villagers and inflicting casualties on the troops. But the night battle clearly cost them heavy losses, and the rebels, scattered elsewhere, did not arrive in time, so they entered the area under the tight control of the French without encountering any danger.

This was a very unfortunate result for the rebels, not because of the loss of close to a hundred members and the same number of villagers, which were easily replenished losses. Dean finally determined that his opponent was not as strong and shrewd as the Frenchman had portrayed him.

Just one day after returning to Hanoi, the commander sent out all the troops at his disposal, and Operation Just Cause finally began. (To be continued, if you want to know what will happen next, please log in to the www.qidian.com, more chapters, support the author, support genuine reading!) (To be continued.) )