The entire night was spent by the Mongolian camp in fierce firefights.

The infantry artillery known as the ghost cannon caused a lot of casualties to the Mongolian battalion.

Similarly, the precise mortars of the Mongolian battalion mortarmen quickly silenced the infantry cannons.

Hugjirel judged that at least four Israeli artillery groups were killed in one night.

The distance between the two sides was already close enough to throw grenades, so there was no need to think about support from howitzers.

If you call for artillery support from the rear, the greatest possibility is that you and the enemy will be blown up together.

The distance was so close that the mortars were ineffective.

When the Ming army lost its firepower advantage, casualties inevitably increased.

The sky finally dawned, and the bloody morning sun rose from the horizon.

Hugjirel loved the rising sun because it came from behind.

The Israelis need to attack in the sun, which is very disadvantageous to them.

Sure enough, the Israeli attack temporarily eased.

The Israelis calmed down, and the Ming army basically stopped.

"If you can still breathe, answer the call. If you are injured and can't speak, the person next to you will help you count."

Hugjirel tightened the hemostatic bandage on his thigh with all his strength!

A piece of shrapnel flew from nowhere last night and got into my thigh!

It hurts so much, but now I can't take it out.

One leg cannot work hard, and blood will gush out whenever it is exerted.

Hugjirel was very worried that he would become a lame. Even if he could be the director of a farm in the future, being a lame would be meaningless.

A feeble sound of counting came from the position, and the deputy company commander counted one by one.

He quickly crawled to Hugjiril's side: "Company commander, there are still forty-three alive, and seventeen are uninjured.

The rest are more or less in vain."

"Go and ask other companies. Damn it, it's another desperate battle." He took out his pocket watch with his blood-stained hand.

Exactly seven o'clock!

"You still have one fucking hour to sort out the ammunition. If those bastards dare to attack, I'll kill them."

Hugjirel filled the magazine with bullets one by one!

A magazine contains 30 rounds of ammunition, and when you actually shoot, all of them will be used up in a short time.

But filling is a waste of time, you need to fill it in one by one.

Now, anyone who can still move is loading bullets into the magazine.

"Company commander, have a bite!" The correspondent opened a box of canned luncheon meat.

I took a big mouthful with a spoon and stuffed it into Hugjiril's big mouth.

After a busy night, I was so hungry that my chest pressed against my back.

After taking two bites of lunch meat, I no longer have the desire to eat it.

"Yeah!

This stuff tastes really bad!" Hugjirel cursed.

It was still the good old days, when everyone was given a can of canned beef every day.

Now I eat two cans a day, but canned beef is replaced by canned luncheon meat.

I can no longer eat those big chunks of beef, instead I can eat this kind of batter.

The scallion pancakes in field rations are also gone, replaced by something called compressed biscuits.

It's as hard as a brick, and it's hard to eat if you have bad teeth.

I really miss those days when I had one bite of scallion pancake and one bite of luncheon meat.

"Company commander, here it is!" the correspondent took a dark object and stuffed it into Hugjiril's mouth.

"What the hell?" Hugjiril's first reaction when he saw the black thing was shit.

"Beef jerky, my grandma brought it when I left. This is the only piece left."

Hugjirel quickly stuffed the beef jerky into his mouth and chewed it deliciously.

Beef jerky on the grassland!

Full of hometown flavor!

It's sad to say that Hugjirel has been herding sheep on the grassland since the beginning of the incident.

But I haven’t eaten this beef jerky a few times.

Only during the White Festival can you have a bite at a relative's house.

One time, when he saw beef jerky dropped by the young master of the family, Huge Jirel picked it up and stuffed it into his mouth.

As a result, he was kicked several times by the cruel housekeeper.

He was also bitten by a loose dog!

The scar on the calf is the trace left from that time.

Thinking of the scar on the calf, I looked at the wound on the thigh.

It's healed now, but the injury on my thigh is gone.

But it's still pretty good. If it were off by even one foot, my life might be ruined.

If your thigh is injured, it is injured, but you don't dare to injure your lifeblood.

That is a guarantee of lifelong happiness!

There was no movement at all from the Israelis on the opposite side. They were throwing grenades more than ten minutes ago, but now they have completely stopped.

There was an eerie silence on the battlefield. Although there were still sounds of gunfire in the distance, at least there was no sound of gunfire in this area.

After fighting all night, it finally stopped.

Everyone was lying under the wall, bathing in the sunshine on the battlefield.

Many people were munching on luncheon meat and compressed biscuits, and from time to time they even picked up a kettle and took a sip.

You can tell at a glance that these bastards put Laolongkou in the kettle.

It is impossible for Mongolians not to drink alcohol.

Bayan told the leader that wine is the source of the Mongols' fighting power.

Even if you are injured, you can still get paid to fight for a day after doing two or two jobs.

Therefore, there is no such thing as a ban on alcohol in the Mongolian camp.

High-purity Erguotou can also be used as alcohol when injured.

In the words of Hugjirel, no matter how you drink, you will drink.

"Company commander, the enemy is retreating." the sentry shouted.

Hugjirel quickly put his face into the crack in the wall and looked outside. Sure enough, the Israelis were running backwards.

These scoundrels finally withdrew.

It seems that the next few dozen minutes should be better.

"Watch carefully, everyone, hurry up and wait for a while. We will change defenses in a few minutes."

Hugjirel shouted while pulling his neck.

He did not worry at all about the late arrival of the troops who were changing defenses. No matter what difficulties there were, they must arrive at their positions on time.

According to the rules of the Ming army, if they dare to be even one minute late, the leading officer will have no chance of surviving.

"I know, eh... there is a dog." The sentry suddenly shouted.

Before he could finish speaking, Hugjiril heard a "boom".

The sentry was blown up several meters high, and then fell to the ground like a rag doll.

"Shell attack!" Hugjirel quickly shrank back to the wall.

"Company commander, it's not shelling, it's dogs! Dogs...!"

"Fart, your dog has a cannonball tied to it?"

Hugjirel was almost angry. Whose dog could cause such a big explosion?

But soon, a ball was thrown over.

Before Hugjirel realized what he was doing, he saw a big, ferocious dog.

A sizzling explosive bag was tied to the dog's body.

"Holy shit!" Hugjiril didn't have time to grab the gun, so he pulled out the dagger and stabbed it directly into the smelly mouth.

Then throw the dog over the wall with all your strength!

Facing death, Hugjiril burst out with tremendous power.

The big dog, which weighed more than 40 kilograms, was thrown five or six meters away from the wall.

"Boom!" The explosive pack exploded, and broken bricks and tiles rained down.

Hugjirel grabbed his helmet and gun and hid in the corner.

I wish I could squeeze my body into the wall!
To be continued...