Zhao Dachun and his team members never thought that there would be hope for survival. They only had the mentality of killing one more Japanese devil and killing another Japanese devil, and had the final desperate battle.

The third leader, Uncle Guo and Ermashan people appeared like heavenly soldiers and generals. They even forgot to cheer and chase, and they all stared at Uncle Guo and the others beating the dogs in the water.

"Dachun, you are good!" Uncle Guo held Zhao Dachun like a bloody man in his arms and said emotionally.

After hearing this, Dachun, who was originally strong and strong, actually cried like a child. He was not crying for his salvation, but sad for the soldiers who died on the position, and for the loss of many brothers and relatives.

Xiaole and Wu Fei did not catch a few Japanese to kill them. When they came up, Uncle Guo and Sandang led the cross-city troops to drive the Japanese puppet troops down the slope. Although they had good shooting skills, they only fired two or three shots in a hurry.

"Guo Dangjia, Liu Dangjia, thank you. I thought the Baishishan guerrillas were really going to be wiped out this time..." Dachun cried in tears, but no one laughed at him. Sometimes the crying of the iron-hard man is even more heartbreaking.

"Stop talking about it, Dachun, you are heroes. It is not your fault that you have killed and injured so many brothers. The villagers will remember them, and we will remember them, and you must be proud of them!" Uncle Guo patted Dachun's shoulder lightly, and his eyes were slightly red. Whoever saw the cruelty of the battlefield would laugh.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you..." For Zhao Dachun and the remaining Baishishan guerrillas, there is nothing more to express your feelings than the two words "Thank you".

"Master Guo, this position is not good. The trench must be dug one meter deeper!" The third leader killed the most Japanese. At this time, he was excited. He didn't even look at Zhao Dachun and the others who were crying miserably. He had been living and dying on the battlefield many times. He was immune to such a scene.

"What are you doing when digging a trench?" Uncle Guo glared at him. How could he not know that this guy still wants to stay here to fight the Japanese.

"Are you not fighting the Japanese?" Sure enough, he really asked this.

"Fight, of course, you have to fight. You can't let the blood of the brothers in Baishishan flow out." Uncle Guo responded in a straight manner. Just when the Third Head Office heard this, he changed his tone: "But we can't fight here. Dachun and the others just chose to guard this place because there were too many villagers behind them, so they had to do it. Now the villagers have evacuated, and there is no need to guard this place. As long as we harass and delay the Japanese, we can achieve the goal of covering the villagers."

After all, Zhao Dachun is a mud-legged person, and many of his tactics and tactics are ultimately not as good as Uncle Guo, who has been in a regular school for many years in the military. With just one short sentence, the difference between the two can be clearly seen.

"Are we going to retreat?" Dachun stopped crying. He was the backbone of Baishishan, and he had to make the decision on everything.

Uncle Guo didn't say anything, just nodded. The bodies of soldiers who died on the position must have no time to deal with them. He couldn't open this mouth and let Dachun leave these warriors who sacrificed their lives for the country.

"Can you give me ten minutes? I want to bury my brothers." Dachun begged in an almost pleading tone. He didn't need to ask Uncle Guo for advice, but if there was no help from Ermashan people in front of him, let alone burying the sacrificed soldiers, I'm afraid he wouldn't even be able to leave.

Uncle Guo couldn't bear to refuse this unsexual request, but he knew that if he was not crueler, the Japanese would be a hundred and a thousand times more cruel than him. He closed his eyes and shook his head twice, and coldly rejected Dachun's request. Then he became ruthless, waved his hand and shouted: "Retreat!" Without giving a reason to deny, he turned around and walked backwards.

Dachun was stunned for a moment. He expected that Uncle Guo would reject his request, but he still didn't expect that he would refuse so decisively, and even gave no room for negotiation. Although he was a little discouraged, Dachun did not resent Uncle Guo. He knew that the battlefield was not a place of emotion and kindness. Looking at Uncle Guo's back as he was gradually moving away and the people in Ermashan left without any love, Dachun bit his teeth and shouted: "Retreat! Retreat! Retreat!"

A mountain wind blew over, and the smoke hovering over the battlefield gradually dissipated. Under the bright starlight, two or three hundred corpses covered the entire hillside in a row. The blood on the ground was purple-brown, spreading in pools, with residual limbs, minced meat, guns, big swords, shuttle marks, corpses and plaster flags that looked like menstruation. The battlefield was like a hell, and more like the Shura field after the battle between the righteous and the demons.

…………

The second in commander regretted that he was not a timid person who was afraid of death. After fighting for years, his life was no longer his own. The teacher saved his life, Uncle Guo saved his life, and even the third in commander Liu Yunbiao had rescued him. In this way, his life was really not his own. That's why he resolutely led two or three hundred people to Erma Mountain with Uncle Guo and Liu Yunbiao, the third in commander.

Perhaps it was because he had been used to a plain life in the past two or three years, or maybe it was because the war had worn away the edges and corners of his due, or the battle that year had buried the shadow of fear in his heart, which led to Han Qi's choice not to rescue the Baishishan guerrillas. When the gunfire on the battlefield subsided, he suddenly realized that his life was already integrated with Uncle Guo, Xiaole and the Three Heads. If they were all gone, what's the point of living in this world?

For several moments, he wanted to lead his brothers back to help Uncle Guo and the third brothers, but when he saw the family members who were helping the elderly and the children, the idea was suppressed. He could be desperate and he could take his brothers back, but what should he do if the family members of the dozens of days? What should he do if the food, ammunition and the jars and jars of the family members were brought?

Han Qi has never been so conflicted and never felt so guilty. If time could be returned for another hour, he would definitely choose to be with Uncle Guo Xiaole and the third brother. It was like the third brother's catchphrase: What's so scary about death? Eighteen years later, he will be a hero again! Only when his head is broken will he have a big scar!

While he was thinking about it, he suddenly heard a gunshot. Then Han Qi felt something crawling into his head, and a hot stream flowed down from his face. He reached out and touched it, and it was sticky. When he put it in front of him, his hands were red.

Have I been shot?!When this thought surged, Han Qi felt a severe pain at the same time, his eyes became blurry, his fingers placed in front of him could no longer see clearly, his feet were soft, and his whole body seemed to be pulled away instantly. He wanted to speak, but he couldn't speak. Finally, when the last trace of strength disappeared, he fell straight to the ground.
Chapter completed!