Rise From Eight Hundred

The battle fatality rate of the warehouse defenders who relied on strong and thick walls was as high as 10%, not to mention the exposed Japanese troops who were desperate to charge.

If the battle loss ratio of 10 to 1 is not enough, then multiply it by 10.

There is almost no need to count. Just looking at the shit-yellow corpses lying everywhere on the positions near and far outside the warehouse, you know that in these few hours of fierce fighting, they have more than two infantry squadrons that can basically be abolished.

If we add the number of people lost in the two waves of attacks launched in the early morning, the heavy baggage troops previously added by the 36th Infantry Regiment can basically be considered exhausted.

Let's not talk about whether we can capture the Four Lines Warehouse today. From this moment on, His Excellency Colonel Wakiitajiro can basically become a Major, because the number of soldiers under his command is only a little more than an infantry brigade.

Tantai Mingyue also wrote this sentence in her battlefield diary: "On October 31, our army has no chance of killing the enemy!"

This is the title and the content.

The declaration quickly printed this simple battlefield diary into type. The entire front page showed the back of a soldier with four grenades on his waist, wearing a steel helmet and holding a rifle, with the words "Our army has no chance of killing the enemy!" 'Six big characters.

The government propaganda department remained silent, but it did not stop the largest newspaper in Songhu from describing the warehouse defenders who had refused military orders and removed their collar badges as our army.

Even in the Western Concession, although some consuls expressed their protest to the Chinese Ministry of Foreign Affairs, neither side stated the matter openly.

This is politics. The transactions are so dirty and disgusting, but they are destined to be in the dark corners. Once it is exposed to the world, not to mention the high-level figures in China will be devastated, and the Western concessions will not be good.

The hundreds of thousands or even millions of Chinese people living in the concession were like a dynamite keg in the past few days. Their high national emotions were on the verge of exploding. Once they knew that their heroes were actually suppressed because of the oppression of Westerners, What kind of terrible situation would it be if the top management in the country gave up?

Just rely on thousands of guns in the concession? Even the most arrogant Western generals would not dare to guarantee this.

Especially when an incident broke out in the concession after four o'clock in the afternoon, a certain Western consul who was still clamoring was completely silenced.

From noon to the afternoon, apart from the roar of guns and cannons, the cheers of the Chinese people have long since disappeared.

Although they expected the brutality of today's battle, the situation still far exceeded their expectations.

Right under their noses, the Japanese death squads charged one after another. The Chinese soldiers risked being hit by infantry artillery. They could not hide behind the thick shooting holes in the solid wall. They could only stand and have a better view. Fight back tenaciously from behind the sandbag fortifications with a larger shooting angle.

Even if the sandbag fortifications and the soldiers were hit and blown to pieces by infantry artillery shells, soldiers would immediately bring in the sandbags and pile them up again, and continue to crawl on the fortifications that were already full of the flesh and blood of their comrades and shoot.

When a group of Japanese infantrymen had entered the corner of the warehouse and were desperately trying to pile their explosive bags into the corner, the red-eyed Chinese soldiers no longer hid behind the wall on the roof of the building and threw grenades downwards based on probability.

Instead, he exposed most of his body to look for the blind spot covered by the wide eaves, determined the target, and then threw the grenade.

The result of this was naturally discovered by the Japanese light and heavy machine guns responsible for fire cover. The roof of the building was originally the focus of their prevention.

The next moment, I don't know how many bullets hit the body of the Chinese soldier. The dark blue was soaked with blood and turned into a deep purple. However, the soldier who was spitting out blood still leaned down on the roof wall and dropped the grenade accurately.

The Japanese army had piled at least seven or eight explosives there, and they were still frantically digging in the ground, hoping to blow the place up in one fell swoop.

The grenade detonated the explosive package, and the explosives weighing more than 30 kilograms exploded. The terrible explosion blasted a large hole in the corner of the warehouse through which the tank could enter. It also swept away the Japanese troops within 30 meters who had no time to escape. Fallen leaves usually roll out more than twenty meters.

However, the air waves that were blocked by the wall and soared up along the wall also hit at the same time. While smashing the thick eaves to pieces, they also swept up the Chinese soldiers who were leaning out and unable to lie back up into the sky.

The body weighing more than 100 kilograms was like a light leaf. Amid the tears of the Chinese people, it was thrown away by the terrible air waves and finally fell into the Suzhou River seven or eight meters away from the warehouse.

Water splashed into the sky.

he died!

Yes, almost everyone knows that he may have died from the moment his head hung heavily after throwing the grenade.

Regardless of whether he would be swept away by the air waves or fall into the Suzhou River, there was no way he would survive.

But why do I always feel that he is still alive when I look at his body floating in the river?

What if he could still live?

Looking at this scene, the middle-aged man gritted his teeth and his eyes gradually became firm. He handed the hand holding the child tightly to his wife who had her head lowered behind her and did not dare to look at the battlefield. He took off the navy blue shirt that the theater owner had personally returned. The robe was wrapped around his son who looked at him with wide eyes because he didn't know why.

"Changqing, what are you going to do?" The middle-aged woman looked at her husband with panic in her eyes.

The hands that had become thin and slightly rough grabbed her husband's clothes regardless of the public.

A woman's intuition and understanding of her husband are giving her crazy warning signs. Her husband is about to do something extremely dangerous.

"Xiuyun, Baoer will have to be taken care of by you in the future." Yue Changqing looked at his wife, his eyes flashing with tenderness, but more of an apology, but there was no hesitation in his words: "When he grows up in the future, if the war is not over, tell him that the men of the Yue family can be ordinary people, but they must never be slaves of foreign races."

After that, he squatted down and touched his forehead to his son's forehead, whispering: "Son, grow up quickly!"

"Dad!" The child had just had time to shout, and saw his father break free from his mother's hand holding the corner of his clothes and run wildly along the street.

On the deserted south bank of Suzhou River, he ran so fast, like a galloping horse, more like an arrow.

Everyone could feel that he would never look back after this.

"What does he want to do?" The middle-aged man in black who was watching the battle solemnly not far away was slightly stunned.

Then, he stopped talking.

Because he understood.

Not only did he understand, but many Chinese who saw this scene also understood.

He wanted to fish out the body of the Chinese soldier who fell into the Suzhou River, whether he was dead or alive.

He couldn't let his hero stay alone in the cold river.

Watching the middle-aged man jump into the Suzhou River without hesitation, the middle-aged man's eyes were like swords: "Brothers, what do you say?"

"This is our Songhu, we can't let an outsider beat us." A young man in black clothes turned around and left with clear eyes.

A dozen black clothes followed.

"Don't worry, Xiaodao, if there is an accident, you and your brothers' resettlement allowance will be paid ten times as usual." The middle-aged man's eyes were slightly red, but he shouted sadly at the young people who were leaving.

This underworld boss who had been in the underground world of Songhu for more than ten years knew that this trip might be a death sentence.

The young man waved his hand without looking back.

After the Japanese army, who had already killed people with bloodshot eyes, found that the Chinese on the south bank of the Suzhou River jumped into the Suzhou River, they immediately turned the machine gun muzzle and brazenly fired into the Suzhou River.

The south bank of Suzhou River is a concession, but Suzhou River is not.

Bullets rained down into the river, and the river water was churning with bloody foam.

The Japanese shooters were grinning, which might be their greatest achievement of the day.

However, soon, their smiles froze on their faces.

Because those Chinese were different from the Chinese they once knew.

In the past, when facing death, most Chinese would instinctively be numb and silent, just watching their heroes sinking and floating in the waves from a distance, and watching their compatriots die in the river.

But this time, nearly 10,000 Chinese people watching the battle on both wings had tears in their eyes and red eyes.

Even if the Japanese front-line commander brought in another light machine gun for strafing, there were as many as a hundred Chinese people who rushed out of the barricades and ran towards the place where the Chinese soldiers fell into the water, facing the bullets of death and jumped down.

Most of them were young people, 17 or 18 years old, which was the golden age of studying.

But these most precious things, they didn't want.

Live towards death or die towards death?

Neither.

They are actively walking towards death to save death.

"Heroes can die, so can I!"

This is the headline of the front page of the newspaper published in the evening.

Seven huge black fonts, before reading the text, have already shaken everyone's heartstrings.

. . . . . .

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