Chapter 68 Rain "Has the order not been changed yet? Our people have suffered heavy losses!" In the rear of the British army, a brigade commander almost lost his usual composure. His voice was filled with anxiety and anger. He desperately made a phone call to report the situation to the military headquarters further behind. It is now 8:30, and an hour has passed since the attack was launched. This hour has been like an endless purgatory, devouring tens of thousands of lives. The people who know the battlefield situation best are the brigade commanders of the British brigades standing at the front line to command. At the beginning of the attack, the brigade commanders sent out two or three battalions of their men, hoping that these soldiers would quickly break through the enemy's defenses and open a path for subsequent troops. But who could have imagined that the troops of these two or three battalions would be almost completely wiped out in just one hour. Those young soldiers were mowed down in a pool of blood by the enemy's machine guns before they could even fire a few bullets. The tragic situation on the battlefield at this moment has made them realize that the first-tier attack has completely failed, and the brigade commanders are eager to know whether the next attack should continue. They knew in their hearts that if they continued to advance, their soldiers would have to pay an unimaginable price. "Continue the attack! Continue according to the previous plan! If you do not continue the attack according to the plan, be prepared to be court-martialed!" A cold and ruthless order came from the other end of the phone, issued from the command center located in a safe area further behind. These commanders have not yet fully grasped the situation on the battlefield. They are isolated from the front line and can only repeat this heartbreaking order over and over again. In their eyes, the people on the battlefield are just chess pieces on the board and orders cannot be disobeyed. When the hang-up sound came from the other end of the phone, the entire brigade fell into deathly silence. The brigade commander's hand was still holding the phone. His knuckles turned white from the force, but he could not feel any strength.
The brigade headquarters fell into deathly silence, as if time had stood still, with only the sound of everyone's breathing echoing in the air. After a long while, the brigade commander finally spoke. His voice was low and tired, as if he was bearing a heavy burden: "Order the reserve battalion to prepare to continue the attack." This order took away the last bit of life in him, and he felt like a walking corpse, just mechanically fulfilling his duties. He knew that he was pushing his young soldiers into hell, and these young lives would disappear silently on the battlefield, but he could do nothing about it. …… "Battalion Commander! There's an order from the brigade! We have to continue the attack!" The messenger ran into the battalion headquarters anxiously, his face covered in sweat and his voice trembling with nervousness. He handed the order from the brigade to the battalion commander, who was looking at the map with a serious face. The battalion commander's fingers were tightly gripping the edge of the map, his knuckles were white, and his brows were furrowed. He had already sensed the arrival of this order, but when he actually heard it, he still couldn't help but tremble in his heart. "Why! Why send us to die in such an unfavorable situation!" The battalion commander's adjutant stood up suddenly, his eyes full of anger and despair, his voice slightly hoarse due to suppressed emotions. The adjutant clenched his fists tightly, his nails digging into his palms, his heart filled with powerlessness and anger. He could not understand or accept why these soldiers were sent to die when he knew that the front line had completely failed. If the brigade headquarters only had a general understanding of the offensive situation on the front line, then the battalion headquarters directly witnessed how the soldiers who launched the attack were harvested by ruthless firepower. The battalion commander's gaze was still on the map, but his eyes had lost focus. He recalled the scene of those young soldiers falling in large numbers under the machine gun fire, with blood and flesh flying everywhere. He knew in his heart that continuing the attack would be tantamount to pushing these soldiers into the sea of fire, but he had no way to change anything. "Okay, follow the order." The battalion commander's voice was cold and resolute, as if he had blocked all the emotions in his heart. He knew his duties and knew that he had to obey orders, even if the order was to push everyone to death. He put the pistol on the map on his waist and walked resolutely out of the bunker. Every step seemed so heavy, as if he was walking towards an inescapable judgment. "Battalion Commander, where are you going? The brigade has issued a special order not to allow you to go to the battlefield. You can only join them after our people have occupied the designated target!" The messenger shouted loudly as he watched the battalion commander walking towards the trench. His words were full of worry and anxiety. He knew what the battalion commander's trip meant, and he also knew that once the battalion commander went to the battlefield, he was almost doomed to never return. By British Army standards, battalion commanders were usually ranked lieutenant colonels and were expected to stay in their trenches and let their company and platoon leaders lead the initial attack. After these company commanders and platoon leaders have captured the target, the battalion commander will go forward to reunite with the troops and then establish a new command center. This is the rule of war and a guarantee for commanders to protect themselves and ensure that the chain of command is not interrupted. "I will never allow my men to die outside while I hide here and watch helplessly." The battalion commander answered firmly, his voice full of determination and an unquestionable power. He knew that his role from the safety of the British trenches was not much different from that of commanding a pinned infantry battalion in the no-man's land between the two lines. But he knew better that he could not bear to see those young soldiers fighting desperately outside while he was hiding in a safe bunker and surviving. He would rather fight alongside his soldiers and face death than become a "security commander" who could only give orders.
"Battalion Commander!" A British soldier who was shivering against the trench holding a gun could hardly believe his eyes and shouted in surprise when he saw the battalion commander coming towards him. "Are you scared..." The battalion commander looked at the young man who was obviously a new recruit and asked softly. His voice was soft and steady, carrying an inexplicable comforting power. "Well... Battalion Commander, do we still need to continue the attack?" The British soldier's voice was full of fear and anxiety, and his body was trembling slightly due to nervousness. He had just seen with his own eyes how the soldiers of the front several battalions were mowed down by machine guns like wheat. The scene was like a nightmare, deeply engraved in his mind. He could not forget the screams of those soldiers as they fell, nor could he forget the sight of the blood staining the soil red. The no-man's land on the battlefield is like a huge monster, greedily devouring every life that steps into it. The first echelon had more than 80 battalions and 6 soldiers who launched the attack, but within just one hour, about 3 people were killed or wounded. This huge loss made everyone feel unbearable. The no-man's land became a slaughterhouse, and British soldiers fell one after another. Life seemed extremely fragile here. "It will be our turn to launch the attack soon. Don't worry, I will be with you." The battalion commander patted the recruit on the shoulder and felt the stiffness and trembling of his shoulder. The battalion commander's eyes were firm and his tone contained a hint of gentle comfort. He knew that he could not eliminate the fear in the young soldier's heart, but he still hoped that his words could bring him some peace. They were the second echelon. The original plan was for the first echelon to capture the Prussian army's first trench and then consolidate their position. After the first echelon was stable, the second echelon would cross them and launch an attack on the Prussian army's second trench. However, as the first echelon's attack completely failed, the original offensive plan had almost become ineffective and turned into a dead end that was doomed to fail. However, the scale of the battlefield was too large, and the command center in the rear had no way of receiving the full situation on the front line in the first place, nor could it adjust the plan in time. So they could only let the follow-up troops continue the attack according to the original plan, as if the lives of these soldiers were just consumables to make up for the tactical mistakes. The second echelon will have more than 40 battalions and nearly 4 people launching an attack. If the soldiers of the first echelon still hold out hope for victory when attacking, then the British soldiers of the second echelon will only feel deep despair. They knew clearly that they were heading towards a losing battle, and once they were completely wiped out, the 70 battalions of the third echelon would follow in their footsteps and end up in the same situation. "Don't worry, I will be with you." The battalion commander whispered to the new recruit again, his voice full of determination. This was not a simple comfort, but a promise, a determination to walk side by side with death. At this moment, a shell suddenly landed on the trench. The explosion was deafening and the shock wave of the shell almost knocked the battalion commander and the recruit to the ground. The recruit was immediately frightened and curled up. His face was as pale as paper, his eyes were full of fear, and he even felt like he was almost unable to breathe. "It's okay, come with me." The battalion commander slowly stood up, holding the earth wall of the trench. He raised his wrist and looked at the time. The watch hand pointed to 8:40. The time for them to launch the attack was getting closer and closer. The order from above required that all second-tier combat personnel must be deployed to the battlefield before 10 o'clock. After checking the time, the battalion commander took the pistol from his waist without hesitation and climbed up the trench first. His movements were decisive and swift. Shells kept falling not far from him, and the flames of the explosions reflected on his calm face, but he was not moved at all. The other British soldiers in the trenches saw the battalion commander climb up the trench, and they followed closely behind him and moved towards the no-man's land. Although their steps were filled with anxiety and hesitation, the battalion commander's determination was like a beacon, guiding them in the direction of progress. …… "Our infantrymen are being strafed by Prussian machine guns in the no-man's land. You quickly adjust the artillery parameters and destroy those machine guns!" A British battalion commander on the front line shouted angrily into the phone. His voice almost lost its sanity. He watched his infantrymen being killed in large numbers, and the powerlessness in his heart almost made him collapse. "Sorry, we cannot adjust the artillery parameters without the command of the headquarters." The liaison officer at the artillery position responded helplessly, his tone full of helplessness and bitterness. He knew the tragic situation on the front line, and also knew that by slightly adjusting the angle of the artillery fire, the machine gun positions could be easily destroyed. However, they had not received any orders from above, so they could only continue the artillery fire according to the original schedule, watching helplessly as the infantry and artillery became completely out of sync. The infantrymen were being massacred in large numbers at the front, while their shells were powerlessly bombarding the Prussian trenches in the distance that could not threaten the British infantrymen for the time being. This feeling of powerlessness was like an invisible chain that tightly bound every British soldier on the battlefield. They all knew what it meant to continue the attack, but they could not make any changes. This war had gone beyond their understanding and had become an inhumane massacre. …… At the same time, on the other side of the battlefield, Lu Mingfei continued to pull the trigger. His hands were numb, and this battle seemed to have no end.
He could no longer count how many people had fallen in the no-man's land in front of him. Blood was spilling before his eyes, as if the whole world was dyed scarlet. The chalk soil was no longer visible. Thick corpses almost covered the entire ground, and blood flowed like a river. However, Lu Mingfei's heart was as if frozen, without a trace of warmth. The initial British attack was as fierce as a storm, but as the first wave of soldiers were shot in large numbers, the subsequent British troops began to decrease. They no longer lined up in neat rows, but began to run on the battlefield, hiding in shell craters as much as possible. Some British soldiers even simply lay on the ground, hiding behind the bodies of their comrades and pretending to be dead, trying to escape this ruthless massacre. Lu Mingfei saw all these scenes. He saw the fear and despair of those soldiers, but he did not shoot at them. As long as these soldiers did not continue to move forward, Lu Mingfei would not continue to shoot at them. He did not want to unnecessarily deprive those who had lost their will to fight of their lives. In fact, as long as the first wave of British soldiers ran together and rushed towards Lu Mingfei and his team's defense line, they would have a chance to break through this line of defense. The number of British troops is simply too large. If they charge together, Lu Mingfei will not be able to stop them. But they didn't do that. They still carried their heavy equipment and walked slowly on the battlefield, becoming Lu Mingfei's living targets and turning this battle into a massacre between man and machine. As time went by, Lu Mingfei shot more and more people, and his sense of guilt gradually deepened. In order to stop the British attack, he began to shoot their non-lethal parts as much as possible. This was the only thing Lu Mingfei could do. He didn't want to completely lose his humanity and turn himself into a beast that only knew how to kill. During this brutal battle, Lu Mingfei occasionally glimpsed that the British flags representing occupation were raised on other defense lines. The British attack in the past few hours was not without progress. Their numbers were too large, and the Prussian defense line was forced to retreat in some places. But even so, Lu Mingfei remained unmoved. The defense line he was guarding was as solid as a rock. No matter how many British soldiers came up, they could not break through the barbed wire in front of him. As time passed, when it was two o'clock in the afternoon, no more British soldiers crawled out of the trenches. Lu Mingfei was finally able to stop pulling the trigger. He fired the machine gun for several hours in a row, firing so many bullets that the bullet shells piled up next to him had formed a small hill. The moment he removed the bronze throne, he realized that his hands had begun to cramp violently. His muscles were so painful that they felt like they were about to be torn apart due to prolonged tension and repetitive movements. If it weren't for the power of the bronze throne, his hand would have been broken by the recoil of the machine gun. On the battlefield, an eerie silence began to appear in the air that was originally filled with the sounds of artillery explosions and gunfire. This dead silence was almost uncomfortable, as if the world had suddenly lost all its noise, leaving people feeling an inexplicable emptiness and uneasiness. But this tranquility was soon broken, replaced by intermittent wailing sounds that echoed across the battlefield, full of pain and despair. Since Lu Mingfei specifically shot at the non-lethal parts of the British soldiers in the later period, there were a large number of wounded soldiers lying in the no-man's land. These wounded soldiers struggled in pain, some tried to drag their bodies, but soon fell down due to excessive blood loss or serious injuries. "Give me a cigarette." Lu Mingfei said weakly to Hill, his voice filled with fatigue and endless tiredness. His body and mind had reached their limits, and now he just wanted to use the numbness of tobacco to briefly escape from this painful reality. Hill didn't say anything, but silently took out a cigarette, lit it and handed it to Lu Mingfei. He knew that what Lu Mingfei needed at this moment was a moment of peace. Even if it was only for a short while, it would allow him to get a moment's respite from the endless killing. Lu Mingfei took a deep puff of the cigarette, and the nicotine took effect quickly, and his tense nerves finally began to relax. The smoke slowly rose in front of him, as if to isolate him from this bloody world and bring a hint of illusory peace. Lu Mingfei leaned against the wall of the bunker, feeling the scorching sun burning his body. Today's sun was particularly scorching. There was not a cloud in the sky, and the air was filled with a burning smell. This is one of the reasons why the British army chose to attack today. The heavy rain in the past few days made the ground muddy, but now, under the scorching sun, the muddy ground has completely dried up, and even the blood that has just flowed has begun to coagulate on the chalk soil, forming a creepy dark red color. Lu Mingfei listened to the wailing sounds coming from the uninhabited area not far away. These sounds seemed particularly harsh in the silence. He turned to look at Hill and the others, noticing their chapped lips and pale faces due to thirst. His eyes darkened slightly, and he suddenly asked, "Do you think they will be killed by such a strong sun?" When Hill heard this, he answered hesitantly, "Maybe..." His voice was full of uncertainty. He didn't know what Lu Mingfei was thinking, but he could feel the heaviness in Lu Mingfei's heart. The wounded lying in the no-man's land are exposed to direct sunlight. Their bodies become more fragile under the high temperature. If they do not receive treatment as soon as possible, death will come sooner or later.
“I understand…” Lu Mingfei leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. He thought of the rain that the half-blood in the Avokur Forest had brought about. Maybe he could give it a try. If those wounded British soldiers in the no-man's land were to be sun-dried to death, then wouldn't his mercy just now be hypocritical? It would have been better for him to kill them directly to avoid such pain. He felt the wind around him, the burning and heat in the air, and the large amount of steam emitted from the machine gun just now formed a thin cloud not far away. Lu Mingfei suddenly had an idea. Maybe he could try to create artificial rainfall to bring a glimmer of hope of survival to these wounded soldiers. The Word Spirit: Eyes of the Wind King. Lu Mingfei used a sickle-weasel to detect the water vapor in the air, and then slowly blew the thin clouds together. He carefully controlled the wind direction, trying to gather the clouds above the uninhabited area. Coincidentally, there was a cloud floating around that was about to rain. Lu Mingfei blew all the clouds towards the sky above the no-man's land, blocking the scorching sun. Although he couldn't induce rainfall immediately, he could at least lower the temperature and give the dying soldiers a chance to breathe. After doing all this, Lu Mingfei felt almost exhausted. His originally highly overdrawn spirit was now completely drained. Fatigue came over him like a tide, and before he knew it, Lu Mingfei fainted. When he regained consciousness, he found himself lying in the bunker. He suddenly got up from the ground, feeling uneasy, and hurried to the combat department above to check the situation. A slight breeze brought with it a few raindrops that gently hit his face, and Lu Mingfei then realized that it was actually drizzling outside. The drizzle seemed like a gift from the sky, bringing some coolness to this scorched land. Hill and his men were on the top of the bunker, holding machine guns, carefully aiming at every corner of the no-man's land. Except for the machine gunners who were severely burned, everyone else in the company was on high alert, with alertness and fatigue in everyone's eyes. They knew that the battle was not over yet and any negligence could bring a fatal blow. But at this moment, as the rain fell, the burning smell in the air was gradually diluted by the cool raindrops. This land stained with blood finally ushered in a moment of tranquility after experiencing countless pains and killings. "Mr. Lieutenant, you're awake!" Hill hurried over to him when he saw Lu Mingfei wake up, and handed him a kettle full of water. "Drink it, Mr. Lieutenant. I just received the call." Lu Mingfei took the kettle but did not drink it immediately. Instead, he asked. "How long have I been unconscious? What happened during that time?" He looked at the sky that was beginning to darken and knew that it must have been quite some time. "You have been unconscious for three hours. It is now five o'clock in the afternoon. During this period, there was another small wave of British attacks but we repelled them. The rain started half an hour ago." Hill reported. Just as Hill was reporting, a huge red cross flag rose from the British trench opposite, attracting Lu Mingfei's attention. (End of this chapter)