bookandnovel Chapter 787 Despair
Chapter 787 Despair
Chapter 787 Despair
Enrique felt as if he was in hell, with smoke, ashes, earthquakes, explosions,
It seemed as if a century had passed before the gunfire stopped. He didn't dare to get up because his crotch was soaked. He reached out and pushed his comrade from the same village next to him: "Stop, don't lie down."
But no response.
When he realized something was wrong and called the "military doctor" over, he found that his orifices were oozing black blood and he was dead.
He squatted on the ground in a daze, and it was not until the military doctor stuffed a piece of chewing tobacco mixed with honey and licorice into his mouth that he felt he was still alive.
After waking up, he found that the passage leading to the artillery position above his head had been completely destroyed. If the walls and protective doors under the artillery position had not been thickened, so that the shell storage room did not explode, they would have been able to report to the underworld by now.
“This is not the war I thought of.”
Enrique murmured quietly. In his imagination, in this battle, he would display his proud marksmanship, looking down on others and shooting down each invader with one shot. After the war, he would become the sheriff of the village, or even the town.
"That's not what I thought."
Drim put a cigarette in his mouth and let out a long breath.
He had a deep feeling of powerlessness. He had thought that after being promoted to a knight and mastering the powerful fighting skills bestowed by God, he would no longer be as weak as he was before in worldly struggles.
But the enemies he had faced, whether they were fierce Cuman mercenaries, Turkish cavalry, Saracen Mamluks, or Coptic cavalry, were no more than a hundred steps away from him even if they drew their bows and shot arrows.
He could see the other person's full bow, the cold blade, and the fierce face.
But now he couldn't even see the enemy's face and was almost killed by their artillery fire.
What made him feel even more desperate was that the enemy was not even a wizard. They were being bombarded here and could not even consume the precious magic power of the opposing spellcasters to provide any help to the adults in their battle.
Moreover, it is said that their enemy is the richest country in the world and will definitely not be in danger of a shortage of arrows and slings like the Saracen army in the Middle Ages.
"Take the time to rest. You never know when the enemy will attack us."
The commander of the fort, a man with a mustache and deep eyebrows, picked up his hat from the mud in an angry manner: "Those who are still alive, please speak up! These damn British people are spending their shells like they are free."
The British artillery positions no longer launched indiscriminate bombardment on Battery No. 1. Of course, their artillery shells cost money and had to be deployed from the distant homeland. This was the price of castrating the colonial resistance.
But compared to Texas, as the world's first and currently only one of the three industrial countries, they only need a 10,000-ton cargo ship to carry ammunition that Texas can hardly imagine.
In the evening, a group of British cavalry came along the mountain road. They stood proudly at the foot of the city of New Basilicata, admiring the bare hills that were bombarded by artillery fire.
"Under this kind of firepower, even if the Texans were all rats in the ground or devils in the grave, they would not be able to survive."
"I don't know what those locals are afraid of. No matter what kind of dirt, monster, or evil spirit it is, they will be wiped out with a round of artillery fire."
They laughed for a while and then went back.
Behind the observation hole of the No. 1 battery, which could almost be called a ruin, Enrique gritted his teeth and said, "Finally, someone is here!"
It feels terrible to just be beaten without being able to fight back.
He subconsciously took out his service pistol, poked his head through the firing hole and aimed.
In his hand was a Martini-Henry rifle, the third improved version, a new weapon of the British Army that was originally stored in Shreveport for use by the expeditionary force.
But just as he was about to pull the trigger, the leader of the team grabbed the muzzle of the gun with his big, thick hand and pressed it down: "They definitely didn't expect that there are still people alive here under such heavy fire. Wait until their main force comes up before shooting."
He raised his voice and said, "Everyone retreat back to the fortifications. I'll be the only one left at the observation hole."
After hearing what he said, Enrique suddenly had a new understanding of this officer who seemed to be not only ferocious but also always spoke Sicilian country slang.
This wait lasted until the next morning.
Enrique didn't know when he fell asleep last night. He only remembered that the military doctor pulled him to play several rounds of dice and he won all the cigarettes he had received.
He crawled up shivering, wrapped in a blanket, and felt like his body was almost frozen.
At the urging of "Mr. Doctor", he took out from under the camp bed a long loaf of bread wrapped in canvas, a small paper bag of jam, and also a small paper bag of meat sauce, which had been distributed to each person last night.
As a result, he couldn't help but burst into cursing - the damn mouse had already tasted his breakfast last night while he was sleeping.
"Mr. Drim, you are more knowledgeable than me. Please tell me, are there such damn little things in every corner of the world?"
He broke off the edge of the bread that had been gnawed by mice and ate his tasteless breakfast with jam.
Drim smiled and replied, "I used to live in the desert and oasis, and later I wandered around the coastal areas of Egypt. I may not have been to many more places than you, but as far as I know, rats are just like mosquitoes and flies. They will go anywhere, whether it's the palaces of kings and nobles or the shabby houses of ordinary people."
But at this moment, a loud shout came from the corridor: "The enemy is coming up, prepare for battle!"
Enrique hastily stuffed the dry bread into his mouth, unscrewed the kettle and drank it down, picked up his gun and rushed into the corridor. There were already many comrades in front of him, hunched over, walking quickly towards the observation hole. They pushed away the obstacles at the exit and filed into the trench.
Facing the morning mist, they could clearly see a group of soldiers wearing tan uniforms and carrying the American Stars and Stripes flag, slowly advancing forward in a skirmish line in the mountains.
"No one is allowed to shoot without my order!"
The cornerman shouted a warning. He wore an officer's hat askew and opened the back covers of wooden-handled grenades, revealing the long pull wires inside. They were all filled with white crystal powder and had amazing destructive power. They were weapons that the Texans had recently equipped. Thanks to the wolf tribe's strong physical fitness, they could often play a role similar to that of a small-caliber howitzer.
Mr. "Military Doctor" also discharged three grenades and placed them in front of himself. This was what he earned after demonstrating his stone-throwing skills to the artillery commander.
The enemy was about to enter the firing range, and the more than one hundred defenders of the No. 1 artillery battery were also on high alert.
But at this moment, a shrill scream sounded.
Enrique was all too familiar with the sound—enemy artillery fire!
With no time to run to the underground shelter, he dropped his weapon and lay down in the trench. Immediately, there was a violent roar - even more violent than what he felt yesterday!
A shell exploded almost close to him.
The shock wave blew him back more than a meter.
Enrique's mind went blank until someone shook him and he staggered to his feet from the ground.
The "military doctor" shouted into his ear: "The enemy has not discovered us, they are just routinely bombarding us, it's time for us to fight back!"
boom--
Sporadic gunshots rang out.
Enrique sat on the ground, unable to recover for a long time. Next to him was a broken arm with a gold ring on the finger, which seemed to belong to William of Solace Town.
He saw Drim, swung his arm and threw the grenade out, followed by a violent explosion in the mountain pass.
Enrique struggled to stand up, stumbled back to the trench, raised his gun and fired a shot - he missed. He didn't dare to lean out to aim. The anger and hatred in his heart could not outweigh the fear brought by walking through the gates of hell.
boom--
The military doctor was shot in the arm, and he fell beside him, roaring: "Enrique, on the battlefield, the more you fear death, the more you will die!"
Enrique cursed angrily, leaned out of the trench, aimed at the enemy, and pulled the trigger again.
He saw with his own eyes a flower of blood bursting on the chest of an enemy as a gunshot sounded, but the enemies that surged in like a tide did not show any sign of weakening because of the death of one person.
Comrades fell one after another.
He saw the military doctor laughing and picking up the grenade, then he jumped out of the trench like an nimble cheetah and rushed towards the enemy, followed by a loud explosion.
"We're fucked."
This was Enrique's last thought.
He is not a hero, nor is he the protagonist in a novel. He does not have the good luck to walk through rain of bullets as if it were flat ground, nor does he have the strength to turn the tide alone. He does not even have the courage of the military doctor who has the grenade to die together with the enemy.
"Go to hell, you son of a bitch!"
He saw his own leader, who had turned into a werewolf covered with gray hair, leaping out of the trench with a grenade in his arms. Bullets pierced his body, leaving flowers of blood, but he seemed to feel nothing and rushed towards the enemy without hesitation.
boom!
Enrique's world was plunged into a chaotic chaos of busy tones.