According to the agreement, after 6 p.m. on July 20, the safe passage will be closed from south to north.

The first to close is Monterrey, which closes at 6 p.m. on July 20; then Laredo, which closes at 6 p.m. on July 30; Then there's Nocona, which closes at 6 p.m. on Aug. 10; Finally, there is Chicasso, which closes at 6 p.m. on August 20.

Correspondingly, Sherman will return the captives to each of these four locations one day in advance. The opening of the entire safe passage, the withdrawal of U.S. troops from Mexico, lasted for one month and 20 days, from June 30 to August 20.

The newspapers called this 800-kilometer-long road home the 'road of blood and tears' for American soldiers.

In Mexico and Texas in the summer, the sun flows like a blazing fire. These American soldiers, who had all their weapons and supplies confiscated, could only brave the scorching sun and move northward step by step.

They did not even dare to stop, because as soon as they stopped, they were waiting for not only the lead of the Indians, but also the robbery of their own people.

On this road, water and food are the most precious things, and all the valuable things on them have long been spent on the road.

Only by snatching your companions can you live longer and go further. There were also reporters along the way, who expressed great sympathy for their plight, and kept telling them to persevere, and that the supply station was in front of them—but none of them were really supplied to these people, but they were busy taking pictures, writing articles, observing the ugliness and evil of human nature, and conceiving how to give a deafening cry to the stupid readers, but none of them provided them with real supplies.

Journalists would rather wash their hands with their own water than give them a drop. They even suspect that the journalists wish they had died as badly as possible so that they could be frightened enough.

Actually, they didn't guess wrong. These days, journalists are tired of photographing hovering crows, swollen corpses, blood-red roads...... Now, under the guidance of an artist, they have begun to pursue a desolate, desperate, and silent beauty!

The west should be like the west! As the vulture rests next to a dying human body, patiently waiting for him to die...... Or a weed stubbornly burrowing its head out of the chest cavity of a swollen black corpse...... Or a toddler soldier who trekked under the scorching sun and refused to take off his honor-symbolizing uniform until he died...... These are all things that can attract attention, things that can shock people's hearts, and they are all incomparable beauty!

It's like the white saints should be crucified! It's like beautiful Orphinia should drown in a pond!

It's like Prometheus should be hung over a cliff! For journalists, their aesthetic is actually the same, and it hasn't changed since the birth of the newspaper - everything that brings traffic is good!

Under the unremitting reports of reporters, this "road of blood and tears" has simply become a death fair, and in this era when there is no "mosaic", the black and white photos in the newspaper have become a nightmare for all readers, as well as crazy conversation!

Fear spreads in the hearts of the living, making people shudder, but they can't help but think about it over and over again. The West is not just the appearance of the West, but more like the appearance of hell!

Corpses on the safe passage will walk. The stretch from Monterrey to Laredo was fine, but the number of dead bodies suddenly increased on the road from Nocona on the east bank of Laredo, doubling from Nocona to Chickaso.

The only difference was that while the corpses that had fallen south of Nocona were mostly charred, the corpses north of Nocona were still fresh and juicy.

Even so, more than 2,000 U.S. soldiers managed to reach Chikasso.

At the beginning of the year, 100,000 U.S. troops marched south to Mexico, and in the end, only these 2,000 remained. Perhaps by coincidence, the Seminoles moved from Florida to Oklahoma along a route perpendicular to the route of today's U.S. withdrawal, and finally met at Chickaso.

One horizontal and one vertical, forming a 'ten' character. Both of these paths have the same name, both are called 'Path of Blood and Tears'.

…… At 5:59 p.m. on July 20, the southernmost gate of Monterrey was duly closed by an Indian sentry.

At that time, there were two American troops who managed to crawl out of the hell of the fifth district, and they only had one step into that 'door', but the sentry made a move to close the door at this time.

At that time, everyone thought it was nothing, the two American soldiers who survived were so excited that they hugged each other and cried, and the reporters behind the door also rushed forward, wanting to get more first-hand information.

But after thanking God for His care with tears in their eyes, they found that the Indian sentry had not issued passes to the two lucky American soldiers.

Without a pass, you can't get supplies along the way, you can't get the safety of the Indians, and no one knows what they're going to meet on this road – no, everyone knows what they're going to meet on this road!

"Sorry, the passage is closed!" The Indian sentry explained with a blank face.

"But they're already here!" Journalists defended the two American soldiers,

"Everybody saw it, one of their feet had already stepped through that door!"

"The passage is closed!" The Indian sentry explained again with a blank face.

"Mr. Indian, you can't do that! Don't you have a little compassion in your heart? They struggled to escape from District 5, and you know how hard they worked? A reporter dressed in white diligently questioned the Indian sentry.

"Effort?" The sentry looked at the reporter and said, "In this world, if you can survive by hard work alone, then there will be no more Indians and blacks than that!" ”

"God, don't be so cold-blooded, okay?" The reporters said: "They have endured hardships and hardships before finally embarking on the road of hope!" Mr. Indians, they still have their parents waiting to be reunited, their children waiting for them to come home, and their wives who don't know how many tears they have shed—can't you just give them a little sympathy for God's sake? ”

"First of all, I don't know what God is, and I don't have to look at it," said the sentry, shaking his head, "and secondly, though I try to sympathize with them, I can't sympathize with them at the thought of being an Indian." Look here—" The sentry pulled open his shirt, a large scar on his chest that had been burned with a soldering iron, the handwriting on it was evident that it had been scraped off later, but it was still recognizable that it was a slave mark that had once been popular in the Gulf of Mexico.

"—See?" The sentry said, pointing to the black-brown scar. The reporter's eyes dodged for a moment, but he insisted on asking, "Either way, they're valuable to you Indians and whites as the last people to enter the safe passage — I'm going to take a picture of them, and you don't want me to take two corpses, do you?" It's a huge blow to your reputation, trust me, I can do it! ”

"Well, you've finally said something that I think makes sense," said the sentry,

"They're newsworthy – but I don't care!"

"Oh my God!" The reporter lamented: "A nation without compassion is a nation without a future............ The sentry turned and walked into the outpost.

From now on, there will be no more Americans in the south of this outpost. If there is, it must be a mistake.

The sentinels knew what they were doing, and it was a little unfair to the two white soldiers.

They must have had hope in their hearts when they saw the southern end of the safe passage, right?

But he gave them hope, but he also gave them despair. They should be miserable, right? The Sentinel knew it must have been painful—he had been there.

He did it on purpose. It's just that he is still a little less desperate, maybe his child is still alive, maybe in Laredo, maybe in Nocona, maybe in Chicazso, and Lotzen will be released back by the white general?

The moment before the bullet comes out of the chamber, it is very painful!