Old John was a freeman living in a farmhouse far away from the crowd in the countryside of Plymouth.

When he was a child, he had land at home. As the nobles took over the land and raised sheep, he should have inherited some inheritance or something, but his desperate father was overwhelmed by his full meal and became a sailor.

That's the sea, there are Portuguese, Spanish, French, and terrifying sea monsters, who are having fun? Sure enough, I never go back.

So by this time he had nothing left. He dug a big tree hole to make a house, and relied on the Knight's pasture to hunt and gather for a living.

Sometimes he would work part-time as a robber, but in fact, there is no word robber in England. The same word is called a person who has a robber. Sometimes he would attack passers-by and make a fortune by just getting something.

He was lucky, so he was not caught until now. People called him a savage in the forest, and his social status was similar to that of the savage Jurchens in the distant Ming Dynasty.

He had a crossbow, either a steel crossbow from elite troops, or an ordinary wooden crossbow, used to fight rabbits.

He was very happy to hear the news of the war. He carried a wooden basket with air-dried meat and dry food, and carried a crossbow and found the nearest Knight Master. He said that the Ming people who occupied Plymouth probably didn't believe it - Old John begged the Knight Master to go to the battlefield.

Not only him, but there were many farmers around him who carried their own food and brought their own weapons, begging the nobles to go to the battlefield.

Why do you need it? Because the nobles don’t want them to go to the battlefield, the low combat effectiveness is just the second. They have extremely low fighting will, and even if they form an army, they will easily collapse. They lack protective equipment and have no discipline and combat skills. The most critical problem is the small feudal economy. If these farmers are allowed to go to the battlefield, the logistics supply will not be available.

Back to Old John, why did he want to go to the battlefield?

These days are boring. Anyway, I know that I am not the main force, so it is very happy to follow the battlefield to fight soy sauce.

People often say that life is better now. A blacksmith can buy a piece of armor for himself for many days, and a soldier can buy a piece of equipment for himself for many days. The problem lies in them? The lord does not lack blacksmiths, and two in a village is enough. The lord does not lack soldiers. Old John has not worn new clothes for several years.

He carries a wooden basket and is worthy of his whole life. He only has one goal to bet on his whole life. The goal he gives himself to pick up two swords on the battlefield.

As for the sword of the noble master of his side, or the sword hung by the Ming merchants on his waist, he never thought that he simply wanted to pick up two swords and go back. As long as he picked up two swords, he would not have to worry about the expenses for the next two years.

If you are lucky, put on a robe, regardless of whether it is the burqa of the knight or the robe on the war horse, it is best to be the silk robe worn by the merchants of the Ming Dynasty.

If he takes off a silk robe, he can marry a wife and have a child. It is best to fight this battle for a longer time, so that the land price around Plymouth is lower, buy a few acres of land to build a wooden house, and he will give up his grandson's name and look forward to this battle.

He believed that he could survive, and his chances of survival were at least much greater than being a sailor, and his luck was always particularly good.

Old John was indeed very lucky. On the way to the territory of the Knight Master, he was hit by the well-equipped Beiyang cavalry scout. Four cavalry riding pony carried spears and pistols surrounded him in circles, questioning him in words he didn't understand. What was that scene?

So Old John is lucky. He didn't die in such extreme differences in strength, and he even got a basket of black bread from the Ming army. Is it amazing?

When he went to the besieged camp to brag about this experience to others, the peasants who came with the same expectations called him the brave John. In fact, even he himself was curious about why he survived.

He didn't do anything, but when he saw the cavalry, he couldn't help but urinate first, and put all the wooden crossbow, air-dried rabbit meat, two pieces of black bread, short robe and hood. Finally, he saw what the Ming army knight was still saying, and reluctantly took off the linen tights that were wet with three patches.

As a result, the cavalry left, and after a while, they caught up again. Under the dull gaze of Old John, who was wearing his pants, they threw a bag of black bread into his wooden basket, two leather water bags and a handful of pennies and then drove away.

From then on, Old John felt that he had a subtle connection with the Ming knights. He once thought that the knight who gave him black bread, water bags and money wanted to hire him to fight, but he really couldn't catch up, so he arrived at the besieged camp.

A few days after arriving at the besieged camp, he was given a long-handled shackle and was ordered to build camps and build brigades with the mercenaries, repair and inspect equipment, and take care of the troops for food, drink, defecation and sensation. They were not mercenaries, but refugees hired by the lord, just like him.

This is a vicious circle. The lord is unwilling to summon the lords to fight because they are not soldiers but tools for producing wealth. Poor peasants are willing to go to the battlefield and beg for the gods to bless them to not die. It is best not to lose any disability, and they can get a handful of things by picking up something.

In addition to the subjective game between the lord and the lord, there is also the objective real situation where the army needs someone to do the battle to build camps and build brigades, plunder materials, torture prisoners, transport supplies, repair and inspect equipment, clean up the battlefield, and deal with food, drink, defecation and other issues. The lords, knights, and regular troops composed of infantry are unwilling to do this, and the professional mercenaries take care of themselves.

Then the problem arises, someone will always solve it.

The final result was that Lord A hired refugees who ran around under Lord B as mercenaries; Lord B hired refugees who ran around under Lord A as mercenaries; in the end, the lord and the lord met in the camp but did not belong to each other. After the war, the lords and the lords found that there were fewer people under their rule, and they were confused about this.

Old John had been waiting for the start of the battle, but he waited for several days, transported the grain truck twice, dug the tunnel for a whole day, his arms were sore and weak in his limbs, like a plane for nine and a half hours, not to mention that the penny stuffed in his crotch when he was digging the tunnel fell off. I don’t know which turtle picked it away, and I was so angry that I couldn’t sleep all night.

I finally squinted my eyes and took a nap in the morning, but I was woken up by the master who led them with his armored boots. The entire camp was praying, as if I was going to launch a general attack.

This happy moment finally came. He and many refugee mercenaries who had the same idea were gathered in the back line as reserve teams, and they would probably join the battle to control the streets and alleys after the troops controlled the city walls and gates.

The captain who led their captain sarcastically praised the dirty rat's skill in digging tunnels, saying that three brave knights had led their troops into the city through the tunnels they dug. They could immediately control Plymouth and drive away the Ming people who occupied the city. In particular, they emphasized that Old John should be careful not to hit his own people with the wooden crossbow.

The honest old farmer could understand the anger of the captain being unable to be on the front line of the battle because he led himself, and stared at the captain's back of the heraldic burqa and wrote down his instructions.

The once-in-a-lifetime good time is finally coming. Old John swallowed the saliva from his throat viciously. He had long known where the basket was thrown. He carried his old crossbow and held the long-handled shackle tightly. At this moment, the camp was in chaos, and someone covering his blood holes came out of the tunnel and shouted.

Several masters riding on horses tried to lead their troops away from the front.

The people in front of them didn't know what was going on, but soon they were in chaos. People could only cross the crowd and see the Plymouth gates open, and the smoke and dust of large groups of people walking around raised in that direction.
Chapter completed!