The Decisive Battle in Korea

Chapter Eight: An Unexpected Shot

A hail of bullets sprayed crimson blood everywhere. The bullets of the Chinese People's Volunteer Army (PVA) were like a pair of clippers, felling the South Korean soldiers in the leading ranks one by one. Occasionally, some PVA soldiers would throw down grenades, and with several loud explosions, a dozen or so enemies would tumble away screaming in different ways.

The PVA's advantage of having a high vantage point quickly became apparent; they could throw grenades far with a casual toss, while the situation was completely opposite for the South Korean soldiers. The PVA soldiers, concealed in the trenches, could use the South Korean soldiers as targets, while the South Korean soldiers couldn't even see where the PVA soldiers were.

"Bang!" That was the shot I fired. Because of the previous battle, I wasn't afraid to fire now, but… where did this shot go? I stared bitterly at the enemy I had just aimed at; he was still alive and kicking, as if I hadn't hit a hair on his head.

I glanced furtively to my left and right, thankfully everyone was busy fighting the enemy and had no time to pay attention to me!

"Bang!" An enemy fell to the ground. I was delighted and couldn't help but admire myself. Not bad! Fifty percent hit rate.

Wait a minute... the enemy I aimed at just now didn't seem to be that one...

Just as I was about to fire a third shot, I saw that the South Korean soldiers had already retreated like a tide. Some were carrying corpses, others were carrying wounded soldiers. Their retreat speed was much faster than during the attack. Some were probably terrified and simply slid down the mountain along the snow. They were fast, but by the time they reached the bottom, they would probably be half-dead.

In the blink of an eye, the battlefield was reduced to a scene of utter devastation. Clots of bright red and dark blood stood out starkly against the pristine white snow. Dozens of corpses, too many to carry away, lay scattered haphazardly before the position, adding to the deathly atmosphere. Rifles and helmets were strewn everywhere; a gust of wind sent several helmets clattering and rolling down the hillside, somewhat like loyal steeds chasing after their masters.

"Cowards!" Tiger laughed. "I thought we'd come all this way to fight some tough soldiers, but they're all just weaklings! Worse than the Kuomintang! With your cowardly appearance, you think you can even reach the Yalu River?" He then proceeded to clean his rifle.

I held my gun, examining it from all angles, utterly bewildered. Why was this gun so lifelike in my hands during the first battle? I could hit the enemy's forehead without even aiming, and it was slashing left and right with incredible accuracy. I even started to wonder if I was a born warrior. But just now, why did this same gun suddenly become so unresponsive?

"Comrade, comrade!" The old squad leader's familiar, kind face appeared before me again. He bent down and walked up to me, handing me a white cloth bag: "Here, a ration bag, enough for three days. Eat sparingly. Oh! And a water bottle, a blanket..."

"Old squad leader," Little Shandong, who was watching from the side, chuckled, "What's the use of that water bottle? When I want to drink water, I open it and it's all frozen solid. It's better to throw it away and get rid of this burden. I might as well grab a handful of snow to eat!"

"Go away... what do you know?" The old squad leader placed the equipment around me one by one, glaring at Little Shandong as he said, "Without a water bottle, it's hard to even get a sip of hot water in this freezing weather. If you can't stand the cold, just throw the water bottle into the fire, and you'll have hot water, right?"

Although I felt bad for the old squad leader's concern, I didn't know how to thank him. I just looked at him gratefully and silently accepted the equipment he handed me.

After the old sergeant left, I opened the ration bag and was stunned. The long, narrow cloth bag contained nothing but fried noodles. I couldn't help but think of the story in "Who Are the Most Lovable People," where the Volunteer Army soldiers ate a handful of fried noodles and a handful of snow when they were hungry… and now it was happening to me. I had thought that only happened after the supply lines were bombed by American planes after we entered Korea, but it seemed like this had happened right after we arrived. And… this little bit of fried noodles was only enough for three days? I lifted the meager ration bag in my hand and inwardly groaned. This was no way to live! Not only did I have to worry about my life every day, but I was also hungry, cold, and unable to sleep…

ugh, I was actually a little sleepy. I had traveled all night and started fighting early this morning, my nerves were constantly on edge, and I hadn't felt sleepy at all. Now that I was finally relaxing, I realized my eyelids were drooping. Looking around, I saw many soldiers lying around, hastily wrapped in blankets, not caring that they looked like beggars sleeping on the streets. I untied the blankets, wrapped them around myself, grabbed a handful of fried noodles, ate a few bites haphazardly, and fell asleep against the trench.

"Boom..." A loud noise woke me from my sleep. Without even looking, I knew the enemy was shelling again. I hadn't even slept for a short while! Whatever! I thought fiercely, ignoring it, I tightened the blanket around myself and went back to sleep. I was just too tired. These South Korean soldiers were like flies, impossible to kill or shoo away... At this rate, I'd die of exhaustion before they even got killed.

"Comrade, comrade! The enemy is coming!"

Suddenly, a strong hand yanked me out of bed. I knew it was Tiger again, that reckless fellow. The cold air outside made me shiver involuntarily, and I became much more awake.

"Hey comrade," Tiger grinned, "the enemy's already up there and you're still dreaming? You won't even know how you died."

Looking at Tiger and the other volunteer soldiers beside me, still full of energy, I opened my mouth and asked with tired eyes, "You haven't slept a wink since last night, how come you're not tired?"

"What do you mean one day? We've been traveling for five days since we left the country!" Little Shandong chimed in, "When I was fighting the Kuomintang, three days and three nights without sleep was common!"

"Oh, so you're used to it." I gave a wry smile. So this is how an iron man is made—habit becomes second nature. It's just a pity that I, who used to be pampered in the modern world, am now so dizzy that I can't think straight.

I leaned closer to the crosshairs, aiming at an enemy soldier crouching as he approached the position. I thought bitterly, "Damn it... you'll get to sleep, I'll make sure you get to sleep!"

"Bang bang bang..." As soon as the battle began, I emptied my magazine of five bullets in one go. Aim, fire, c**k, aim again, fire—all in one fluid motion. The five bullets fired like machine gun fire, and five enemies fell instantly, each hit in the head.

I was stunned. When did my marksmanship become so good again? Tiger, standing beside me, glanced in my direction, clearly also drawn to the five shots. Puzzled ,

I ducked into the trench to load more bullets, only to find that fatal stiffness returning. I tried pulling the bolt several times but couldn't get it open, and the bullets kept slipping from my hand... Even after the enemy was driven back again, I still hadn't managed to fully load all five bullets!