Rise From Eight Hundred

In essence, Crow is not a qualified soldier.

Even though he has killed at least four Japanese soldiers, he is still just an ordinary person in military uniform.

Perhaps, it is the deep hatred that makes him not very afraid of death, and he is much braver than ordinary people.

Ordinary people would be scared to death when facing hundreds of Japanese soldiers with live ammunition and two armored vehicles with heavy machine guns, so how could they think of saving people.

In fact, even professional soldiers will face difficult choices when facing such a dilemma.

If they save their comrades, both of them will die. If they don't save them, they can only watch him die.

For soldiers, this is undoubtedly a heavy psychological burden. Even if they survive this battle, they will live in the shadow of guilt.

Such a dilemma is actually a multiple-choice question without a correct answer for professional and non-professional soldiers.

If Tang Dao was here, he might not be able to give an answer, but he would definitely be much calmer than Crow, who was a little confused at this time.

If he couldn't save his comrades, he would let more Japanese die with him. His focus would definitely be on how to attack this cruel Japanese army, not just on saving people.

Crow wanted to grow up on the battlefield, and this almost unsolvable choice was the most critical step he took.

The enemy was cruel, so he had to choose cruelty.

He gave up his comrades, even himself, cruelly, just to kill more enemies.

Victory is the only criterion for measuring a soldier's performance on the battlefield.

Keeping humanity prevents him from becoming a beast on the cruel battlefield, but sometimes, he has to abandon humanity and become a cold-blooded killing machine.

Every time a soldier experiences a battlefield, he has to walk between this preservation and abandonment, which is why there are so many patients with war syndrome.

The glass bottle brought by his companion exuded a strong smell of white wine, but the cotton strip sticking out of the mouth of the white wine bottle reminded Crow of the demonstration that Lieutenant Colonel Tang Dao gave to them, the lieutenants, which was called a Molotov cocktail.

The flames created by the Molotov cocktail were terrifying, but Crow didn't care much about it. In his opinion, this thing was far less useful than bullets, and Japanese infantry would never stand there stupidly for you to hit them with Molotov cocktails.

As for why his infantry platoon had this thing, Crow planned that if it really didn't work, this kind of Molotov cocktail that could burn for a long time would be the best ignition. If seven or eight houses were set on fire in a row and the southeast wind blew, the whole block would become a sea of ​​fire, and everyone would perish together with the Japanese devils.

And now, Crow, whose mind was completely filled with "what to do", suddenly remembered that since Molotov cocktails could burn even pure stone mountains like rockery, it should not be a problem to burn armored vehicles.

As long as the armored vehicles were set on fire, the Japanese might be able to rescue Wang Laoshi in a panic!

As for whether it would be as he imagined, seeing that the Japanese armored vehicles had already driven towards the second floor where he was hiding from more than ten meters away, Crow, who had been stimulated by the unsolvable multiple-choice questions, could only give it a try with bloodshot eyes.

Even if he couldn't burn the Japanese tanks, he would go to hell with Wang Laoshi! It was a brotherly love.

It was a bit regrettable that he didn't achieve the goal of killing 10 Japanese in time.

But fortunately, he killed four of them. Just like doing business, you have to be the first to try it and make money as soon as possible!

The soldier brought four Molotov cocktails.

Crow put the Mauser pistol back into his waist and nodded at the soldiers crawling over, indicating that each of them should take two. The soldier attacked the first armored vehicle and he attacked the second one.

The soldier understood, put the Molotov cocktails on the floor, and carried two of them along the wooden corridor to the room in front.

Crow put the two Molotov cocktails in front of him, leaned against the wooden board, and judged the distance by listening to the roar of the armored vehicle engine outside.

The Japanese were very cunning. The two armored vehicles were six or seven meters apart, one in front and one behind. This ensured that the firepower was more concentrated and prevented the two armored vehicles from being caught in the shock wave when attacked by explosive packs.

The Chinese security group soldiers had tried to drop the ignited cluster grenades, but they did not master the delay well, and two flexible armored vehicles avoided the explosion point. The shock wave formed by the cluster grenades alone could not cause much harm to the Type 94 armored vehicle with a steel plate nearly 10 mm thick.

Listening to the first armored vehicle rumbling past five or six meters away, Crow trembled with a match, lit the cotton cloth soaked in white wine in front of the Molotov cocktails one by one, and then threw it through the gap of the wooden board for the last time to Wang Laoshi who was still being dragged by the armored vehicle.

Perhaps it was because too much blood had flowed after being dragged for a long time. Wang Laoshi, whose life had long been like a candle in the wind, had become numb to the severe pain. There was not even despair on his gray face, but more of a dull look. He stared blankly at the sky, waiting for death to come.

The human body is actually very magical. I don’t know if it’s because of the legendary sixth sense, or maybe it’s God’s care for this wounded soldier in the last moments of his life.

Wang Laoshi felt someone was staring at him, and his dull eyes turned slightly, looking at the crow staring at him.

"Platoon leader, save me!" A glimmer of hope flashed in Wang Laoshi's dull eyes.

Although he didn't say anything, the crow understood.

"I'm sorry, brother, I can't save you!" The crow's tears were full of misery.

Crow knew that even if he set the armored vehicle on fire, the cruel Japanese would never give him a chance to rescue. The two infantry guns that were still following behind would immediately fire at his position, and the Japanese soldiers at the back would also use guns to kill the useless bait. Even without them doing anything, the burning armored vehicle might also drag Wang Laoshi, who was a few meters away, into the fire.

Wang Laoshi's eyes dimmed quickly, and he also understood that no one could save him in such a situation.

However, his eyes were still fixed on the direction of Crow. He was not hating, hating his platoon leader for not saving him, but begging.

He was begging his platoon leader, if the platoon leader could survive, please help take care of his children and don't let them starve to death in this chaotic year.

"Don't worry, if I don't die, the yellow croaker that I have worked hard to save for several years will be yours." Crow didn't know whether Wang Laoshi, who was seven or eight meters away, could understand his nod.

After silently making this oath in his heart, he closed his eyes in pain and never looked at Wang Laoshi who was being dragged.

Then, he put the iron whistle on his chest in his mouth and blew it suddenly.

That was the signal to notify his companions to launch an attack.

At the same time, he stood up suddenly and threw the two Molotov cocktails with ignited cotton cloth in his hands at the fastest speed in his life towards the Japanese armored vehicle a few meters away.

Crow didn't even see whether the Molotov cocktail hit the armored vehicle. Before the Japanese infantry bullets came, he lay on the ground and rolled desperately to jump to the first floor.

This time, he was not only a man of the world who wanted to avenge his future wife, but also a platoon leader who shouldered the responsibility of his brothers. He couldn't die so easily. He had to try his best to survive.

The gunfire of the Japanese army rang out, and the place where he had been hiding was smashed into a mess.

"Baga! Damn Chinese!" When Crow threw two Molotov cocktails at the tank, Kato Hero, who was moving closely with the armored vehicle, was almost scared to death by the two black shadows flying towards the armored vehicle.

And his skillful tactical movements, a side dive and then rolling to one side of the street.

The armored vehicle was not afraid of the grenades thrown by the Chinese, but he was terrible.

What he didn't expect was that the Chinese would launch an attack at such a close distance. Weren't they afraid of killing their own people?

It seems that the Chinese have finally made up their minds and are ready to abandon their colleagues. The bait has lost its effect.

"Pay attention to the Chinese wounded!" Kato Hero evaded in a somewhat embarrassed manner and gave a cruel order. "If the Chinese want to save him, then kill him."

The Japanese captain certainly knew why the Chinese were so determined to launch an attack. Naturally, it was because they wanted to rescue the wounded, but he didn't give them a chance, just to make the Chinese despair and let them experience the heartbreak of being unable to save.

To put it bluntly, Kato Hero is also a kind of psychological warfare.

He is angering the Chinese soldiers.

Only when the Chinese lose their minds can he win more easily.

The two armies fought, and they did everything they could...

PS: I saw some book friends in the comment area said that there were too many descriptions of psychological activities, and some said it was slow, and some said it was watered down. What can I say! Fengyue hopes to work hard to portray the images of these insignificant little people in the war, because the war was accomplished by these little people. Whether they are alive or dead, they are the most glorious people of that era.