Under the infection of the battlefield atmosphere, Wickham did not feel fear, but faintly had a bloodthirsty impulse. When he saw a sailor swinging a cable from the other side, Wickham drew his sword and met him.

The French sailor looked like an experienced old fritter, and he was not afraid to see Wickham rushing up. The French sailor let go of the rope and rolled on the deck, avoiding the shadow of the sword that Wwickham slashed at diagonally. Wickham missed the blow, and he was a little anxious, so he quickly leaned in, intending to take the other party by surprise when he didn't stand up.

Although Wickham had learned some military fighting techniques in his previous life, he had never really practiced swordsmanship, and he did not have the quick reaction time of the experienced old French sailor. A strange smile appeared on the corner of the French sailor's mouth, and the sword in the right center stabbed at Wickham's calf like lightning on the side of his body!

Startled, Wickham forcibly restrained his attack and drew his sword back with his backhand to make a block. The old sailor was waiting for this moment, and while Wickham's chest was showing weakness, he did not hesitate to stand up and slam his head into Wickham's chest!

Wickham was hit by the sudden blow, his eyes were full of stars, and he only felt that his chest was hot and breathless, and the saber across his chest appeared a trace of defense. The sailor struck a blow, withdrew his sword, and stabbed Wickham in the chest! "Damn! Are you going to die in the scuffle today? Wickham looked at the sword blade that was getting closer and closer to his chest in despair, and regretted it so much that he would not have been a hero if he had known, and honestly hid behind him to shoot coldly.

At the last moment, the sailor suddenly slammed his body, and the sword in his hand fell to the ground with a "snap". Wickham looked over his head and saw that a steel knife had pierced the French sailor's chest, and dark red blood was trickling down. With a "stab", the steel knife quickly pulled away from the unfortunate man's chest, and a mist of blood erupted, spraying Wickham in the face.

"Sir, are you alright?" The man who killed the French sailor at the critical moment was none other than Bert, who looked tired. Wickham patted his chest, and then he came back to his senses. After all, this is the second time he has been saved by his own subordinates, the last time was in the fierce battle with the Amo coalition army, it was Barnett who saved him, and now he has let Bert save him, this is all caused by his poor swordsmanship! Wickham made up his mind that after this battle, he must learn swordsmanship from Bert, otherwise his luck would not be so good next time, and someone would always come to save him.

Bert touched the blood on his face, and said anxiously: "Sir, these French people are like crazy, our people have suffered heavy losses, and they may not be able to withstand it in ten minutes!" "This French ** ship is a fourth-class ship, not only the artillery fire is fiercer than the "Jackal", but also carries more than a hundred marines on it, and the British army is completely at a double disadvantage in firepower and numbers!

Niang Xipi! This time it's a big loss. Wickham endured the throbbing pain in his chest, picked up the saber that had fallen on the deck, and shouted to Bert: "If you can't stand it, you have to give it to you!" Next to us is the entire fleet, and the Enspiring will come to the rescue soon! Bert wiped the sweat from his forehead and muttered, "I hope so." ”

At this time, the battle situation on the deck of the "Jackal" had entered a white-hot state, and the soldiers on both sides were strangled together, just instinctively waving the weapons in their hands, and when they saw people with different uniforms, they rushed up and slashed indiscriminately, which was extremely chaotic. The gunners on the lower deck also gave up their slow-loading cannons and joined the warband with swords and muskets, and at every moment the bloodied soldiers fell with unwilling eyes. There is no mercy, no mercy, and no hesitation! All of them relied on instinct to fight with all their might with the opposing side.

After forty minutes of fighting, the "Encouragement", which realized that the situation was not right, finally came up. In order to avoid accidental damage, the Encouragement did not dare to use its guns, but quickly approached the other side of the French ** ship, preparing to adopt the oldest naval combat tactic - broadside battle!

Evan led a platoon of marines and soon boarded the deck of the French ship. With the addition of the new force, the soldiers on the "Jackal" suddenly boosted their morale and roared and counterattacked. The French soon found themselves caught in a two-sided dilemma, with less and less room to maneuver under the pressure of the British.

After holding out for 20 minutes, the French ** ship finally could not withstand the counterattack of the British army, hung up the white flag and surrendered.

At the moment when the French stopped resisting, Wickham slumped on the deck, gasping for air, and his otherwise neat and ornate military uniform was now filthy. The wound on Wickham's face had scabbed, and the slender wound looked like an ugly centipede.

The military uniform on Ai Wen's body was quite neat, and he was holding Bert, who had been stabbed in the leg, and walked over with a shake: "Sir, it doesn't matter if you are injured, right?" ”

Wickham waved his hand and said, "It's not a big deal, it's just scratched by sawdust, and it's not in the way!" Bert, how is your leg, is it badly injured? "After forty minutes of scuffling on the deck, Wickham was only scratched in the face, and I have to say that it was very lucky.

Although Bert's leg had been simply bandaged, Wickham found that the bandage had been stained red and was still oozing blood. The level of medical care in this era was too low, and Wickham was a little worried about whether Bert's wound would become inflamed. If it was really inflamed, then Bert's leg would not be saved, and his military career would come to an end.

Bert took a few breaths of cool air in his mouth, made a smile that was uglier than crying, and said, "Sir, it was just a knife, and it didn't hurt the bones." I think as long as God forbids this leg not to get inflamed, there should be no problem. It's you, sir, such a handsome face has been broken, and those ladies in London will be sad in the future, haha......"

Although Bert pretended to make fun of Wickham easily, the few people next to him still noticed the helplessness and fear in the young man's eyes. It is conceivable that the family is in the prime of life, and no one wants to become a disabled person when they are young and strong.

Facing Bert, who was forced to smile, Wickham felt bitter in his heart, the loss of the Marine Corps Independent Company in this naval battle was too great! Those soldiers are not playing the statistics of strategy games, but they are all living beings, real beings of flesh and blood. Now, nearly half of them are buried in the Atlantic, and they may ever return to the pristine and quiet Hampshire countryside.

Wickham felt he had to do something for the wounded, even if it was just psychological encouragement and support.

Today, on every British warship, there is only one serious doctor and a few half-skilled assistants. However, there were so many wounded in this naval battle that many could not be treated in time. As soon as Wickham walked over, he found a young brown-haired soldier holding Dr. Modi's hand, crying and shouting, "Doctor, please save my companion, he was injured like this to save me, please, doctor!" ”

Reluctantly, Dr. Modi pulled his sleeve out of the soldier's hand and said, "The shrapnel on his left shoulder is so deep that I can't get it out." Sorry, I've done my best. If, after a few days, his wound had not become inflamed, he would have survived. ”

With that, Dr. Modi's tired face turned to the young soldier who was pleading, picked up the medicine box and walked away. It's not that he's hard-hearted, it's that he still has a lot of wounded soldiers to deal with, and precious time and medicine can't be wasted on a soldier with little hope.

Wickham got closer, only to find that the soldier was familiar, as if he were the soldier in the Moxie Palace, who was helping him carry the spoils of war. Wickham's heart moved, and he asked, "Are you Private Ruhr?" What happened to your companion just now? ”

Ruhl turned his head and saw that the company commander was standing behind him, questioning him with a concerned expression. Ruhl stood up with tears in his eyes and gave a military salute to Wickham: "Sir, in the battle just now, Smith blocked a shot for me, and the doctor said that he had little hope and probably won't survive. Sir, if it weren't for Smith, I would have gone to God a long time ago, and please help me beg Dr. Modi to save poor Smith. ”

Wickham didn't speak, instead crouched down to check the soldier's injuries. I don't know if I don't see it, and I'm shocked when I see it! On closer inspection, Wickham realized that Smith's left shoulder had been hit by a deformed buckshot. Because of the irregular trajectory, Smith's left shoulder was injured twice, which not only caused a huge wound, but also the bullet was stuck in the shoulder blade, and it was quite difficult to remove the bullet.

Wickham shook his head, such a gunshot wound, in the eighteenth century, when medicine was not developed, was equivalent to a death sentence. Because surgical tools cannot be fully sterilized, the risk of surgery without anti-inflammatory drugs is too great. Moreover, the soldier's lips were already blue-gray, and at first glance it was a symptom of excessive blood loss. If the operation is forced, I am afraid that before the bullet is removed, the soldier will die of shock due to excessive blood loss.

"Smith's injury is very serious, and it is very likely that the wound has become inflamed, and whether he can survive or not depends on God's will." Wickham meant that he was not optimistic that the seriously injured soldier would be saved.

Ruhr's face was a little pale, and he didn't care about whether it was rude or not, he grabbed Wickham's forearm tightly, and said: "Sir, please, no matter what, call Dr. Modi over to have a look, please......" As he spoke, the one-meter-eight man cried like a child.

ps: I recommend a British drama "Royal Lawyer", which is super British, and interested book friends can go and watch it...... In addition, cheeky for collection, ask for recommendation