Volume 1: The First Battle Chapter 3 Deserter
The winter nights in North Korea are bone-chilling. The bare branches of the larch trees shiver in the cold wind, while the evergreen trees gently shake their branches in the evening breeze, as if trying to shake off the snow on their bodies. The stars and the crescent moon reflect the white snow on the ground, casting a pale cold light on this winter night that should have been dark, and also lighting the way forward for us.
Most of the volunteers were active at night and hid during the day. Many people believe that they were good at fighting night battles, but I believe that they were forced to fight at night because of the situation.
If it were daytime, no matter how brave the soldiers were, it would be difficult to gain an advantage against the US military's high-tech equipment.
At that time, night vision goggles were still a new thing and had not yet been equipped to the US military. So at night, the US aircraft, artillery, and tanks all lost their effectiveness, and they could only fight the volunteers. Therefore, the volunteers mostly marched or launched offensives at night.
So, at this time, I should have been hiding in the warm bed, but now I was climbing mountains and crossing rivers in the snow and ice.
Although it wasn't snowing, the cold was like an omnipresent spirit, robbing me of the little warmth I had from my cuffs, collar, hat brim, and any other places that could penetrate. If the White-haired Girl dared to sing "The north wind blows, the snowflakes float", I swore I would drag her here to see what real cold is...
Everything seemed like a dream. I looked at the scenery around me, the soldiers marching in front and behind me, and the weapons and equipment they carried. I still couldn't believe that all this was real.
My feet moved forward mechanically, but my head was searching for the various fragments of falling from Mount Paektu. In the end, there was only one reasonable, but also helpless explanation, that is, I fell into the legendary cave, and the mysterious power in the cave brought me here, and possessed the body of a frozen volunteer soldier.
So I went to the Korean battlefield... and became a volunteer soldier...
This thought almost made me collapse, because I knew clearly how brutal this war was, and I also knew clearly that one-third of the soldiers who entered this war would never return to their homeland or see their loved ones again.
No... I can no longer see my relatives. I have returned to fifty-eight years ago. Even my late grandfather was only a teenager now. Perhaps he is still somewhere in the country, working hard for the birth of my father!
“I wonder if my name will be on the monument to the War to Resist U.S. Aggression and Aid Korea in the modern world.”
I laughed at myself and said, "If I had known this would happen, I should have looked at those lists more often. But I shouldn't be on the list of heroes. Are you kidding me? I've been holding a pen all my life, and now I'm holding a gun? There's a chance that I'll be on the list of deserters."
"I don't want to be a deserter, but the guns and bullets on the Korean battlefield are so hard to come by. The ferocious American imperialism has complete air superiority and can bomb our supply lines at will. So every gun, every bullet, every morsel of dry food, every cotton-padded jacket, and every pair of rubber shoes, all condense the lives and blood of the logistics comrades who transported military supplies! So in order not to let these precious guns, ammunition, and supplies go to waste on someone like me who has never been to the battlefield, for the victory of the Korean War, and for the happiness of hundreds of millions of people across the country... I will wrong myself and be a deserter..."
This reason seemed to be very plausible, so I slowly slowed down my pace, stopped looking around, tried not to look guilty, and pretended to be exhausted and out of breath.
Speaking of my ability to pretend, I have a glorious history. When I was in college, I used my fake appearance to successfully convince five innocent girls that I was a gentleman, and I almost won their hearts. I say almost, because in the end I found out that I was the one who was deceived...
A hero never brags about his past achievements. Now I am praying to almost all the gods I can think of in my heart: "Dear gods! Please let me succeed in pretending again!"
As I watched one volunteer soldier after another step past me, my heart beat faster... In those days, there was only one outcome for being caught as a deserter, and that was to be taken to the side of the road and shot as a public example.
"Comrade..." Just when I was about to reach the end of the team, a familiar voice made my heart tighten. I turned around and saw the old squad leader's eyes, which were emitting a strange light, staring at me with a smile.
I looked at the old squad leader, then at myself, and soon I understood the problem. The old squad leader was carrying a marching blanket, a shovel, a submachine gun, a grenade, a dry food bag, an ammunition bag, and a water bottle. Together, they weighed at least 70 to 80 kilograms. How could a young man like me with nothing on me be slower than an old man carrying more than 70 kilograms?
I blamed myself deeply. How could I forget the traditional virtue of respecting the old and loving the young? If I had put on an angelic smile from the beginning, walked to the old squad leader affectionately, and said in the most gentle voice: "Uncle, the things must be very heavy! I will help you carry some." Then my plan to escape by showing weakness to the enemy would be perfect.
This is really embarrassing, he died before he could accomplish anything...
"Comrade..." Unexpectedly, the old squad leader patted my shoulder and said kindly, "You must be tired! Comrade... It's not easy to have been to the gates of hell... Hang in there a little longer, and when we catch up with the main force, I'll call the medical staff to check on you..."
I was stunned for a moment and felt a little ashamed. I didn't expect that before I felt the cruelty of the battlefield, I felt the care between comrades.
"It's okay, it's okay..." I lowered my head and answered softly. The old squad leader's caring eyes seemed particularly dazzling in the night.
"Stop moving forward, stay where you are..."
"Stop moving forward, stay where you are..."
…
I don't know how long I ran. Just as I was secretly amazed at the endurance of this body I possessed, the people in front of me ordered me to stop one after another.
Although it was a break, no one dared to find a place to sit down. There was snow everywhere, and in such cold weather, they were afraid that if they sat down, they would freeze to death and never get up again. So everyone stamped their feet lightly and blew hot air into their hands. Some men simply hugged each other to keep warm...
Only then did I take a look at the company. There were about 160 people, forming a long line from beginning to end. Normally, a company should have about 120 people, and an army should have more than 30,000 people. However, the Volunteer Army generally had more than the quota, and the first four armies that entered North Korea had no less than 40,000 people, so it was reasonable for a company to have more than 160 people.
Looking at their equipment, I only recognized the Type 38 rifle and the Type 50 rifle that I often saw in movies. The only machine gun I could name was the Type 99 rifle, and there were probably seven or eight of them! Every soldier had three or five grenades hanging on his chest, and most of the platoon leaders and company commanders were equipped with box guns or submachine guns. What surprised me was that I also saw two mortars.
Although these equipment cannot be compared with the US military's aircraft, artillery and tanks, they are not as bad as the millet plus rifles that the Chinese people imagine.
I still remember that after returning to the United States, General Ridgway wrote a book called "The Korean War", in which he always emphasized how poor the U.S. military's equipment was, how insufficient the supplies were, and how the soldiers suffered from cold and hunger.
Of course, if a person who returned home in disgrace after being defeated in a war talked about how excellent his equipment was, how good his food was, and how thick his cotton-padded clothes were, anyone would suspect that his brain must have been damaged by the volunteers.
Similarly, if the Chinese people emphasize how poor the equipment of the Volunteer Army was, it will better reflect the bravery of the Volunteer Army and the spirit of the Volunteer Army defeating the strong with the weak. Moreover, the equipment of the Volunteer Army was not on the same level as that of the US military.
"Little Shandong..." The old squad leader waved his hand and caught the little guy running past him: "What's wrong? Why don't you move forward?"
"I can't find the main force." Xiao Shandong laughed: "Aren't we on the main road? The company commander said that the footprints in front of us were messed up. They said that they were the defeated Korean People's Army and the villagers who had moved away. Now I don't know how they got there."
"This is trouble!" The old squad leader frowned. "Without a map or a radio, we are unfamiliar with the place, and we are in North Korea. Even a local who asks for directions won't understand what we are saying..."
I have also heard that the Volunteer Army had poor communication equipment. It seems that only the battalion level had telephones, and only the regiment level had radios. Therefore, there is an old saying: "The troops below the battalion level of the Volunteer Army can't be called back even if they are sent out to fight. Moreover, when the Volunteer Army first entered the Korean War, the company-level units did not have maps at all. If the main force could not be found at this time, it would really be as the old squad leader said - trouble!"
"I, I can speak..." I sniffed my frozen nose and said, "I can speak Korean. I'll go ask! Where should I go?"
"You can speak Korean? That's great!" A hint of surprise flashed across the old squad leader's face, and then he put on a wrinkled smile and said, "We are going to Wenjing, let's find a fellow villager to ask..."
"Wenjing?" I was stunned. The reason I knew this place name was because the first shot of the War to Resist U.S. Aggression and Aid Korea was fired at Liangshuidong near Wenjing.
I read some information a few days ago. The 118th Division of the 40th Army of the Volunteer Army originally planned to march to Wenjing, but found that the enemy had occupied Wenjing first, so they hastily built fortifications in Liangshuidong to prepare to ambush the enemy troops who continued to advance northward...
"What day? What day is today?" I asked anxiously.
"The 25th, October 25th." Although the old squad leader thought the question was a bit strange, he still answered it.
This is the anniversary of the War to Resist U.S. Aggression and Aid Korea, the day the war broke out.
"Then you are the 118th Division of the 40th Army?" My voice was already trembling.
Looking at the old squad leader who nodded, I couldn't help but cry out in my heart: "I have to go to the battlefield so soon. It's only been a few hours since I came to this world, and I don't even have the chance to desert..."
"Comrade, comrade..." The old squad leader looked at me, who was pale, and asked in confusion, "What's wrong? What's wrong?"
"No, no." I shook my head weakly and uttered a few words slowly: "The main force is in Liangshuidong, not in Wenjing."
