On the watchtower, which has been riddled with bullets, Vince . . Vane was still waiting for his companions to bring reinforcements, but as time went on, the hope became slimmer, and finally he began to worry that reinforcements were like God's angels that would only appear when he was dying...... Or never show up. Pen, fun, pavilion www. biquge。 info

Then a voice confirmed his suspicions: cheers, from the Vietnamese, not mercenaries. Vane got up from the floor, slowly leaned over to a bullet hole, and cast a cautious glance outward.

As he had guessed, the rebels had filled in the trenches and torn the barbed wire, and now they were pouring into the strategic village like a tidal wave.

"Oh,!" Vane knew there would be no reinforcements. To his own surprise, however, he managed to control his emotions and did not become angry or frightened.

Vane did only one thing: he fell back to the floor, reached for his bayonet and placed it on his left side, and then for his pistol and bullets; He had four quick loaders and sixty rounds of ammunition in his pocket, and if the rebels tried to climb up and kill him, they would have to pay enough.

However, he apparently forgot that there was no need for the rebels to climb the watchtower, they just needed to set a fire to it - but thankfully, despite the frenzied shooting at the watchtower, the rebels who stormed the strategic village seemed to have forgotten about the enemy on the watchtower. They passed through the barbed wire like a tidal wave, but they poured like a tidal wave into the mercenary barracks, and not only Vane, but even the mercenaries who were hurriedly taking their positions failed to attract even the slightest attention.

The attention of these resistance fighters was all focused on the barracks. There are no enemies there, but there are things left behind by the enemies, and they know very well what they are doing: at the wrong time, in the wrong place, in the wrong way, robbing.

The mercenaries and their commanders also saw it.

"Great, very good." Fruhauff cast a murderous look at the three squad commanders who gave the order to retreat. He's about to lose a lot, and the company obviously won't pay any compensation for the loss of his personal property, not a penny - but not just him, all mercenaries face the same problem, it's just that they can't express their opinions as bluntly as their commanders.

They can only take out their anger on the enemy who is preparing to rob their property. Every mercenary who could reach the resistance shifted his guns and opened heavy fire on them. The already chaotic resistance immediately became even more disorganized, some pausing to exchange bullets with the mercenaries, others speeding towards the barracks that were already close at hand, and still others simply running in the opposite direction - but it was the spontaneous actions of individuals rather than the explicit orders of a certain leader, who had already lost control.

Huang Huatan didn't know anything about this—he didn't even know that one of the roundabout troops he had sent had entered the American stronghold. The ongoing fighting has taken up the vast majority of attention - the situation is hardly any different from what it was just now, except that the "death line" has moved forward to the trench in front of the barbed wire fence and the gate that is still closed. As the rebels tried to cross the trench or ram the iron gate, bullets from behind the second line of barbed wire killed them one by one. The ground was littered with corpses.

A dilemma. Huang Huatan didn't know how much it would cost to break through it, but he could only hold on until he broke through it or exhausted his last bit of strength - and the warriors did the same; If they can't do it, he's going to force them to do it.

"Our men have retreated again." A ringleader announced.

"Warlords."

It's his way, old, but always effective. The two platoons of warlords in front of the position simply raised their rifles, and the retreating resistance fighters noticeably slowed them down, then slowly stopped, and finally turned and rushed towards the hellish target; They charged again, bravely and desperately turning from one row of guns to another, and then died.

The frenzied, near-suicidal action became the hallmark of the battle.

"Great, very good." Fruhauff said the same again, but this time he was satirizing not anyone else but the rebels. "The Vietnamese who rushed through the barbed wire fence were busy looting my luggage, while their compatriots were dying in front of a barbed wire fence that was virtually non-existent." He turned to the squad commanders and said, "Organized and undisciplined, this is our opponent." ”

The squad commanders were silent, they all looked at him, knowing that he still had something to say. But Fruhav paused for a moment before he said, "But our soldiers are being tormented by such a group of opponents." ”

He pointed to the mercenary. They were still firing, talking, laughing, taunting their opponents, or cheering themselves on - or just yelling. But anyone could tell that the fighters were too tired, exhausted by the noise, exhaust fumes, recoil, and the constant rush of rebels; They need to rest and need a little time to catch their breath.

"Stop shooting." Fruhaoff decided to give them time to rest. But his order not only surprised the French, but the three squad commanders and the mercenaries who heard the order all focused a bewildered gaze on him.

"Stop shooting?" Lieutenant D-Vigion jumped up like a cat that had been stepped on by its tail, "Stop shooting?" Mr. Fruhauff, are you crazy? ”

In fact, he felt that the mercenary commander had indeed gone mad: he looked abnormal at the beginning of the battle, and then he danced like crazy - no doubt, Dave . Fruhav is a madman. Of course, Dwegian doesn't mind being with a madman, as long as the madman doesn't fire at him or gives the wrong order at the wrong time.

"The rebels are still attacking, how can you order the troops to cease fire now?" The lieutenant shouted.

"The rebels are separated from us by two barbed wires, what are you afraid of, Lieutenant?" The commander gave him a mocking look, then repeated the order in a louder voice. "Everybody stop shooting."

"Don't listen to him, your commander is crazy." Dvigian began to scream, although he was well aware that most of the mercenaries had no idea what he was talking about.

But he wants to prevent a wrong command from being executed correctly.

However, the mercenaries' eyes were focused on Fruhauf, wondering why their commander had ordered them to cease fire at this time—but they did, as it was; Of course they will fire again, if Fruhauff really loses his judgment.

But Fruhaoff was sober. In fact, he had never been more sober since the battle began. "Everybody stop shooting until the Vietnamese attack the second barbed wire fence and you can fire again." "Until then, take a break," he explained. ”

"It was a bad decision!" Dregion still wanted to correct Fruhaov's "mistakes", but the mercenaries ignored him, they retreated from their combat positions, returned to a safe place, rested, drank water, or checked their equipment, only a few pairs of vigilant eyes were still fixed on the resistance; The squad commanders also ignored him, and they gathered around their commander to listen to him assign new tasks.

"Find a couple of people to spy on the Vietnamese who are looting our luggage." The commander whispered, "Rearrange our machine guns and put them in a position where they can do the most damage to the opponent." And tell everyone that wait a minute, when the battle starts again, all machine guns, automatic rifles, and submachine guns will be silent until they get my signal. ”

"Are you going to ......?"

"Stopping the shooting will make the Vietnamese think that we don't have bullets, or that they are running out of bullets, and they will take it lightly, and then they will go on a stupid rampage, and then we can surprise them a little."

"In that case," Thomas thought for a moment, "or we could have taken a little more risk......"

As the commanders whispered their tactics, the situation was developing as Fruhauff had predicted: as soon as the rain of bullets blocking their progress was gone, the rebels began to ram the gate with even more violent movements, intending to rush in and kill all the hateful Americans...... That's it, all killed, the Americans are out of bullets, and now they are just fish on the board, which can only be slaughtered by others.

"We're going to win." The leaders did not think much different from their men, and so they were all elated, and only a part of the leaders who had lost too much were full of frustration - and, of course, hatred, for the Americans and for the yellow flowers, slowly growing in the places where they could not see, and one day they would radiate strongly, in a way that no one wanted to see - but not now.

Huang Huatan didn't know what his men were thinking, and he didn't have time to guess yet; When the frontal forces, which had suffered heavy losses, finally had a chance to break through, he began to wonder what the hell was going on with the detouring attacking troops, who had not heard at all, had neither sent anyone to contact them, nor attacked the Americans from the flanks and rear, and the people he had sent to contact did not return...... It's so weird, it doesn't fit his arrangement.

"What the hell are those people up to?" He frowned, pondering, and then a burst of gunfire woke him up.

"The Americans still have bullets?" Huang Huatan looked at the leaders beside him, but they were equally panicked and confused, not knowing what was happening. But the answer was soon revealed...... Partially revealed.

"Gunfire is coming from behind the Americans." Someone shouted happily, "The person who plagiarized the back road has finally succeeded." ”

The leaders listened for a moment, and then they affirmed it, and panic and confusion gave way to excitement and joy. The leaders began to rejoice again, believing that victory would soon be seen.

Why not? The Americans have run out of their bullets and are being flanked from both sides. The occupation of this stronghold is simply a matter of time and meaninglessness......

However, the situation is completely different from what they guessed.

"The Vietnamese fought on their own." A mercenary tasked with spying on the looting of their luggage shouted. (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.) )