The Decisive Battle in Korea

Chapter Five: The First Shot

"Fire..."

With a command, rifles, submachine guns, machine guns, heavy machine guns, and mortars roared in unison. Bullets and shells rained down on the valley road, and the valley was instantly engulfed in gunfire and artillery fire. Where the machine guns passed, enemies fell in droves like harvested rice, blood splattering from their bodies. Each shell explosion nearly sent several people flying into the air before they fell in pieces. Those who were blown to pieces but not dead used their last bit of strength to let out pig-like screams towards the sky.

The sudden attack threw the enemy into disarray. They scattered like ants on a hot plate, desperately searching for cover. But the Volunteer Army was positioned on both sides of the road, offering virtually no blind spots. They had nowhere safe to hide, and the relentless bullets continued to claim their lives... In a short time, the valley was a blood-soaked landscape.

This was the battlefield. I was stunned by the enemy's cries, their panic, and even more stunned by this hell on earth before me...

"Coward!"

A disdainful snort from the bearded man made me realize that I hadn't fired a single shot yet, but I no longer cared about my pride or whether I was a coward. I was simply thinking that the victories, the thrilling battles, described in books, on television, and in stories, were actually terrifying.

"Beep beep beep beep..." The bugler sounded the charge.

"Kill!"

"Charge!"

The soldiers began their charge. Under the cover of fire from the high ground on both sides, the three companies plunged into the battlefield like three steel knives. One was the plug, one the tail, and the other the middle one. Our company was the middle one, and I felt like a notch in the blade.

I was practically dragged down the valley by the bearded man, but once I left the trench, I couldn't stop. Because of the slope and the soldiers rushing forward in front and behind, there was only one outcome if I tried to stop: I would be knocked down the mountain.

I ran downhill involuntarily, watching blankly as the bearded man ahead of me charged forward, skillfully loading his Type 38 rifle, raising it, aiming, and pulling the trigger. With each shot, a fleeing enemy fell to the ground.

"Thud, thud..." With a few sounds of bullets piercing flesh, a soldier beside me was hit. His body tumbled to the ground with the force of the impact, warm blood splattering onto my face, quickly freezing in the sub-zero temperatures, forming cold specks.

I gasped for breath, realizing the enemy was organizing a defense, making a last stand.

I was getting closer and closer to the enemy; I could even see their panicked faces and the dark muzzles of their guns. Then suddenly, a burst of blood erupted from one face, and the entire body collapsed to the ground like a deflated sack.

"Toot..." The old sergeant blew the small trumpet hanging around his neck. Before I could react, a large hand from a bearded man pressed me to the ground. Then I saw the entire platoon simultaneously pull out grenades, pull the pins, and after a three-second delay, fling them away. Dozens of grenades arced through the enemy lines and landed in the enemy's position.

A deafening roar echoed as the ground beneath me trembled. Blood-stained rubble and clods of mud rained down on my body and head. "Kill!"

the bearded man roared, bayonet fixed, and charged into the smoke from the grenade explosions with the rest of the soldiers.

A fiercer hand-to-hand combat ensued.

The gunfire subsided, the machine gun fire and explosions vanished, replaced by the sounds of horns, shouts, fighting, and heart-wrenching screams…

True to his name, the bearded man, like a tiger descending a mountain, led his Volunteer Army soldiers straight into the enemy lines. Unlike other charging companies, the company cut off at the waist faced a dire situation. The enemy, caught in a desperate flight, were likely to rush towards the center, where the enemy command headquarters was located. Many of the remaining enemy soldiers, still possessing the courage to resist, were also in this area. Therefore, the bearded man's men encountered resistance as soon as they entered the enemy lines.

An enemy soldier with a mustache, brandishing a gleaming bayonet, roared as he charged at the old sergeant. He didn't see that the sergeant was holding a submachine gun. Without even pausing, the sergeant volleyed a burst of fire, felling the soldier to the ground.

The bearded man was even more ferocious, wielding a Type 38 rifle with unparalleled skill. Thrusting, slashing, and butt-smashing—no enemy could withstand more than two blows from him.

The Type 38 was originally the standard-issue weapon of the Japanese infantry. After Japan's defeat and surrender in World War II, China seized a large number of Type 38 rifles. This rifle has a long barrel, and with the bayonet, the entire length exceeds 1.5 meters, making it arguably the longest rifle in the world.

There's a saying: "An inch longer, an inch stronger; an inch shorter, an inch more dangerous." Such a long rifle is a huge advantage in close combat, especially when its user is a veteran of the War of Resistance Against Japan and the Chinese People's Liberation Army. So, although the enemy outnumbered them at this waist level, the charging enemies fell in droves to the bayonets of the Chinese People's Volunteer Army soldiers.

Most enemies, unless stabbed in a vital area, wouldn't die instantly. The Volunteer Army soldiers, by the time the enemy was essentially incapacitated, didn't have time to finish them off, so the ground was littered with bleeding, wailing enemies. Some clutched their wounds, desperately crawling, trying to escape the battlefield and find a glimmer of hope; some, tears streaming down their faces, frantically tried to push their intestines back in, their faces filled with disbelief at the sight of their own; some trembled, their limbs convulsing, their eyes filled with despair as they watched the ever-growing number of Volunteer Army soldiers before them…

I watched all this helplessly, having only observed from afar in the trenches, now standing here in reality. My nose smelled of blood, my ears heard screams, my hands and face were stained with blood. In this hell of blood, even lifting my feet felt sticky.

"Kill..."

The voice was hoarse yet powerful; I recognized it as the bearded man's voice. He had broken away from his comrades' lines, parrying and cutting off his rifle as he charged in another direction. It wasn't until he reached a large red foreign horse and reached for its reins that I remembered the old sergeant's instructions and understood the bearded man's objective.

But then, an unexpected event occurred.

"Boom!" A grenade exploded nearby. The horse was startled, rearing up and neighing loudly, its hooves kicking wildly indiscriminately. Caught off guard, the bearded man was struck—a blow that looked quite severe. He flew a considerable distance and landed on his back, struggling for a few moments before being unable to stand.

Hand-to-hand combat allows no respite. Seeing an opening, seven or eight enemy soldiers immediately surrounded him. The closest one raised his bayonet and viciously stabbed at the bearded man…

“Bang…”

With a gunshot, the bayonet fell to the ground, and its owner, with a bullet hole right between his eyebrows, collapsed limply to the ground.

I was stunned, almost unable to believe I had fired that shot. Loading, raising the gun, aiming, firing—all in one fluid motion, and the accuracy… right between the eyebrows! The feeling just now was as if I had been playing with guns since childhood.

Looking at the bearded man, he struggled to sit up, grabbed a rifle, and desperately tried to fend off the attacks of three enemies.

Without a second thought, I charged at him, my right hand expertly c*****g the rifle. Without aiming, I fired a single shot, and one of the enemies attacking the bearded man fell instantly. Then, to the astonishment of the enemy, I swiftly felled another. By then, I was in front of the bearded man, and with a single blow of the butt of my rifle, I smashed the incredulous face of the last remaining enemy to pieces.

Suddenly, an enemy grabbed me from behind, rifle and all, and with a powerful throw, sent both gun and enemy flying. Seeing several more enemies surrounding me, I grabbed a pickaxe, roared, and with three quick swings, cleaved three holes in the chest of the three leading enemies.

"Don't move!" I glared with my beast-like eyes, holding my still-dripping pickaxe at an angle, and roared in Korean at the four enemies who were about to rush up behind me, "Don't move! Surrender and you won't be killed..."

The four enemies froze, gripping their guns, speechless for a long time. After a while, they dropped their guns one after another, raising their hands in terror...

"Hahahaha..." The bearded man behind me laughed, his mouth wide open, "Kid, I misjudged you. One pickaxe felled three, captured four, ruthless enough..."

I stood there dumbfounded, looking at the enemies in front of me, their hands raised in terror. I was surprised myself, because I never knew I had this ability, nor did I know I possessed such ferocity.

The Volunteer Army soldiers quickly reached my side, and the enemy's battalion command structure was destroyed within minutes. Enemy officers and soldiers abandoned their equipment and scattered in all directions. The smarter ones knelt down and raised their hands; the dumber ones jumped into the Jiulong River. Jumping into the freezing river actually saved the Volunteer Army a few bullets. The even dumber ones, with Volunteer Army soldiers' guns pointed at their backsides, still ran around blindly…

“The Third Company will flank the enemy artillery along the road; the other companies will return to their positions to intercept enemy reinforcements!” This was the regimental commander's last order.