Arc of Gunfire

Abawahan City, the 36th Psychological Offensive Station.

This was originally a school. In the past 30 days of fierce fighting, the main teaching building of the school was changed into a defensive support point for the 168th Infantry Division. The Prossenians stormed for seven days but failed to capture it.

The entire school playground was filled with the corpses of Proson soldiers, but it was now completely covered by heavy snow.

There are now large speakers installed on the roof of the teaching building, and Proson's famous song "Erica" ​​is playing at the moment.

There was a gunshot from nowhere, and the bullet hit the speaker, making a sharp sound.

But that didn't stop the melody of "Erica" ​​from floating out of the speakers.

Inside the building, the announcer of the psychological warfare task force looked outside nervously: "Is there gunfire?"

The bishop accompanying the 168th Division said: "It was gunshots. The enemy had taken control of the school workers' dormitory, and there happened to be a shot that hit the loudspeaker on the roof."

Announcer: "Isn't this very close? Why not take down the school workers' dormitory?"

"Because the front army ordered to carry out defensive operations in the city, waiting for the enemy to exhaust their will to resist, and not to increase casualties out of thin air." The bishop patted the announcer on the shoulder, "So it's up to you."

The male announcer partnered with the female announcer asked: "Bishop Davasili, I heard that your division is going to become a Guards unit?"

"That's what you said." The bishop said with a smile on his face, "In fact, all the divisions that have persisted in the city until now are probably upgraded to Guards. The Front Army Headquarters has approved 28 places for Ant heroes for us. Twenty-eight I was originally worried that some people would not be able to judge Venus as being emotional, but now it’s better. It’s hard to say whether there are twenty-eight of them among the living people.”

"So many!" The male announcer looked envious, "It's a pity, I will never be able to get this position."

The bishop suddenly made a serious face: "No, announcer Davarich, once you understand our experience in the past twenty days, you will no longer think like this. You will be eager to stay away from the front line."

The male announcer looked embarrassed, and the female announcer stepped on him under the table.

Bishop: "Start broadcasting."

The female announcer immediately picked up the manuscript, turned down the music, and read into the microphone: "Brothers of the Ploson soldiers, brothers of the Ploson soldiers! You have worked hard! When you are hungry on the front line, fighting against the cold and While the disease was fighting, the emperor and nobles of Prosen were feasting on meat and fish in their comfortable and warm palace.

"Your father froze to death on the streets of Prosennia, and the emperor's propaganda still whitewashed the peace, saying that more people froze to death because life has become better, and too many people drank and talked and passed out drunk on the street. side!

"Brothers of the Ploson soldiers, you are fighting bloody battles, but the generals are hiding in the safe fortresses behind..."

Another gunshot was heard outside, and the female announcer trembled, but continued reading.

The bishop who accompanied the army turned around and asked in a low voice: "Are you still using the trumpet? Arrange a sniper to kill this person."

Attendant: "It wasn't the trumpet, I don't know where it was."

The bishop raised his eyebrows, looked at the two people who were still broadcasting, and lowered his voice: "Continue to monitor, arrange snipers, and if you see anyone aiming at our loudspeaker, kill them directly."

"yes."

————

Major Richard raised his head when he heard the gunfire, but the bunker they were in had been completely sealed, giving up all defensive responsibilities and existing only to keep warm.

So he didn't even have a place to look outside.

Even so, Major Richard was so cold that he put on all his clothes and wrapped himself in a marching blanket.

He could no longer hold the pen, so he did not write to his wife for two days.

Even if it was written, what's the point? I probably wouldn't be able to take the letter out alive.

At this time, a series of waves of shooting sounds came from outside.

No one moves in the fortress, because moving consumes energy and makes it colder. Everyone was now huddled together like hibernating bears, wrapped in blankets.

The noncommissioned officer next to the major asked: "Could it be that we who went to get the food were ambushed?"

"If so, so what?" the major asked, "Do you think there will be food in the supply center?"

The sergeant didn't answer.

Major Richard wrapped himself tightly in the blanket and curled up into a ball.

At this time, someone moved at the other end of the large room: "It's so cold, I want a fire."

"There is nothing to burn!" someone warned.

"Burn my blanket!" shouted the person who wanted to set it on fire. "Let it warm up a little. Then we can surround the fire and keep it warm for an hour!"

"You're crazy! What are you going to do without a blanket?"

"Nothing can be done! I might as well die! Isn't this suffering? If I die, you can burn me too! Burn me!"

Major Richard looked at the other side coldly, watching several people struggling together.

The small stove in front of him has long since run out of sparks, and the fuel burned out yesterday.

At this time, a sergeant stood up and roared: "Stop arguing! Isn't it even colder for you to argue in such a cold weather? If you really want to survive, surrender! The Ant people must be well fed and clothed warmly!"

The quarrelsome people fell silent.

I don't know if it was a psychological effect, but the sound of the Ant broadcast outside became louder, as if it penetrated the thick walls of the room.

"Brothers of the Ploson soldiers, you don't have enough to eat or wear, but the generals in the rear are full of fat. The fruits of your hard work have been embezzled by them, and none of it has passed on to your families, your brothers and sisters. .

"Your sisters are even going to sell themselves to support themselves!"

The sergeant pointed to the direction from which the sound came: "Go and surrender! They must have prepared hot meals and dishes for you! Go!"

The people who had just argued looked at each other.

Suddenly, the person who initially said he was going to burn his blanket turned around and walked out.

The sergeant pulled out his gun: "Deserts and those who surrender to the enemy on the battlefield must be shot on the spot according to Proson's military law!"

The soldier stopped and looked back, then took another step and walked towards the door with unusual determination.

The sergeant pulled the trigger, but the gun was frozen and did not fire. While he was repairing the gun angrily, the soldier opened the door, and cold wind immediately poured into the fortress, even containing snowflakes.

Everyone was shivering with cold.

The door was left open after the deserters left, and the cold wind continued to pour in.

When the soldiers who had just tried to dissuade him saw this, they immediately walked towards the door and stumbled out.

"Wait a minute!" shouted the sergeant, "you bastards!"

"That's enough." Major Richard shouted, "Close the door. Everyone who didn't escape will be frozen. Whoever wants to run away in the future, please run away. But when you get to Ant, you will be tortured by their inquisitor first. , Those people are very bad, and you will be worse off than dead when the time comes.”

Everyone fell silent.

The sergeant was the first to wake up, waved his hand and shouted: "Close the door quickly! Close the door!"

Several soldiers beside the door stood up and worked together to close the door.

However, the temperature that had dropped would not rise so quickly, so Major Richard had to curl up a little tighter.

————

May 5th Avenue, frontline cooking station.

In fact, the main responsibility of the so-called frontline cooking station is not only to provide hot food to the soldiers, but also to conduct psychological warfare.

The food cooked at the cooking station is full of flavorful food, with a lot of spices added. When the wind blows, you can smell the aroma of the food from across the street.

Not long after the cooking started that day, several Proson soldiers came out of the alleyway, holding their weapons and white pants high, and walked towards the cooking station.

The cooking station was specially equipped with a Prosen language translator. He shouted loudly: "Is it the old man who surrendered?"

"Do you have hot food?" he asked.

"Yes, there is broth and beetroot soup, and there is enough meat!"

"We are here to surrender!" The Prossenians admitted.

"Raise your hands and come over slowly! Put the gun next to the old tree! Yes, come over slowly! Our soldiers will search you to prevent you from hiding grenades! Okay, come here, Tang is here!"

As soon as the Ploson soldier entered the trench, he took the bowl of soup and wolfed it down. As a result, he ate so quickly that he coughed.

The translator patted their backs and advised: "Slow down! You have been hungry for too long. If you eat too fast, your body will react and you might die! You have made up your mind to surrender. If you die because of this at this time, The gain outweighs the loss!”

But none of the Proson soldiers listened to him, and they all worked hard with revenge.

After finally eating, the veteran who led the team said to the translator: "Stop making these broadcasts. We have heard too many of these broadcasts in China. You should set up more cooking stations. Everyone will come here when they are hungry." ! Now that I have finished eating, let the judge judge me!"

Translator: "You will not see the judge. Only officers will be sent to the judge. We already know the little information you have, and it is of no value for interrogation!"

The veteran's eyes widened: "Aren't you going to interrogate us?"

"Yeah, only officers will be questioned because they may have information."

The veteran looked back at where he came from and asked: "Can I go back and tell my comrades this? Many of them wanted to come, but the officer threatened us that we would be interrogated by the inquisitor and even skinned. layer."

"Okay, you can go back." The translator said without hesitation, "Our general has given an order. You can go back if you want, but you cannot bring weapons back to prevent you from using weapons to attack us after you go back."

The veteran obviously hesitated: "You can't bring weapons back. Carrying weapons can still be called patrolling. Going back without weapons... We can no longer pick up weapons. The heavy snow has buried all the corpses and weapons!"

Translation: "Then you decide for yourself. The prisoner of war camp is on the east coast. If you are well fed and clothed, you will definitely be able to survive this winter."

The veteran thought for a while and sighed: "I still won't go back. I pity my brothers and have to continue to work hard."

Translation: "Okay, then I will arrange for someone to take you across the river."

"Please arrange someone." The veteran said.