Deserter from War

Chapter 4: A foreign river

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The Japanese 6th Division, 18th Division, 114th Division and 9th Brigade, totaling more than 100,000 people, have landed on the Jinshanwei line in Hangzhou Bay under the cover of 155 ships. Their purpose is very clear: to seize Songjiang River, then cut off the Shanghai-Nanjing Railway to the north, and completely surround the Shanghai defenders. This is the Japanese army's fatal final blow to the precarious Shanghai battlefield. Shanghai is in danger!

Zhang Fakui, the commander-in-chief of the right wing army in the Songhu battlefield, sent the latest telegram to the 67th Army: "The enemy has landed at Jinshanwei today and is advancing towards Songjiang. The 67th Army can immediately advance to Songjiang with light equipment and strike hard at the enemy to ensure the safety of our right wing in Shanghai." This is the original text of the last command telegram received in the history of the 67th Army.

In view of the urgent situation at hand, the headquarters of the 67th Army held an emergency military meeting in Qingpu at night. The 107th Division was heading to Songjiang, and the 108th Division had not yet arrived in Qingpu. The Japanese landing had been completed, and they were definitely advancing rapidly from south to north to Songjiang. Songjiang was a small county town, without even the most basic city walls, no strategic location to defend, and the periphery was also flat. They could only hope to block and resist in the Huangpu River water network area south of Songjiang. In the end, it was decided that the headquarters would be located in Qingpu, and the deputy commander would be stationed there; the commander would lead the staff to Songjiang County to establish a front-line command post, and order the 107th Division to go straight to the Huangpu River bank outside the southern suburbs of Songjiang City to deploy defenses to block and delay the enemy, and the 108th Division would subsequently enter Songjiang City to defend. The order was issued immediately.

It was late at night, the drizzle was coming and going, and a gray army was struggling to advance through the crisscrossing waterways, the dark and unpredictable paddy fields and reeds, and the muddy and cold wind and rain. The flashes of explosions in the east began to become conspicuous, one after another like the spotlights at the news scene, the pale and scarlet light occasionally hit the bottom of the clouds above, and the low dark clouds were set off like a monster in lightning and thunder, hideous and decadent. There was no need to hold a torch, just the reflection of the dark clouds above could see the road. Qingpu had already passed, but the troops did not stop, but instead sped up and rushed. The messenger brought the new destination "Songjiang" to the vanguard.

Raindrops slowly slid down the curled brim of his hat, crawled over his thick black eyebrows, and flowed down his resolute, knife-like cheeks, merging with sweat. The soaked military uniform had turned dark gray, clinging to his skin, with round wrinkles. The Zhongzheng rifle was slung across his back, hitting the leather belt from time to time. His leggings were covered with mud, almost like boots, forcing Hu Yi to wade in a canal whenever he found one nearby to get rid of the cumbersome mud.

During the march, the sound of gurgling water came from the roadside, and Hu Yi ran out of the team following the sound of water. Before setting off, Wang Laokou handed Hu Yi a Zhongzheng rifle, and at the same time, he exchanged for a cowhide belt and a worn-out marching canteen and gave them to him. The canteen was empty. Under the cover of night, he could only tell that it was a stream. At least it was flowing water, and he didn't care whether it was clear water or muddy water. He took off the canteen and soaked it in the stream, and then used the cold stream water to wash his face several times, and immediately felt a lot better.

Standing by the stream, he took a deep breath, looked back with his chest held high, and the winding team was flowing like a stream, flowing into the dark distance, and perfectly blending into the rainy night. At the moment of another flash, Hu Yi suddenly found a special figure in the team behind him. He was thin and short, and seemed out of place with the surroundings, which attracted Hu Yi's attention. Hu Yi quickly walked back to the route and stood there waiting until the little figure moved closer to him.

"stop!"

Frightened by the low shout, he staggered, carefully identified the figure blocking his way, and smiled with his teeth bared.

Hu Yi knew that this battle was not going well, judging from the endless stream of defeated soldiers on the Shanghai-Nanjing line. Before setting off, Hu Yi discussed with Wang Laokou and decided not to take the silly boy with him. He left him at Anting Station and told him that if the team came back in a few days, he would be allowed to return to the team. If not, he would be asked to find another way to make a living. But the boy secretly followed him all the way.

Facing the silly boy's silly smile, Hu Yi's serious face was calm. He kicked the silly boy and made him fall into the mud. "Get back!"

The silly boy was a little confused. What happened to this fierce-looking Brother Hu? He sat in the mud without moving or speaking.

"Get out of here!" Hu Yi spoke again.

"I don't want to be a deserter. I want to go back to the third row."

This sentence almost made Hu Yiqi laugh, and his tone softened a little. "You are not a soldier at all. It's ok to take you with you at ordinary times, but now you are going to the battlefield and risk your life. Do you understand?"

"You can go, why can't I? Even if I go back and become a beggar, I will still starve to death sooner or later. There are beggars everywhere. Have you ever seen anyone who wants to eat? I will die anyway, so why can't I die in the third row?"

Looking at the thin and stubborn figure of the silly boy covered in mud, and listening to the words that didn't sound like those of a 14-year-old, Hu Yi felt mixed emotions, and couldn't tell whether he was sad or helpless. One standing and one sitting, one big and one small, the two figures in the rainy night stared at each other for a long time like statues...

Wang Laokou was out of breath after jogging all the way. Seeing a dark tree of unknown origin standing alone beside the road, he sat down at the foot of the tree, leaned against the trunk and took a few deep breaths, then looked back at the team. Where did Hu Yi go? He was behind me just now, but he disappeared in the blink of an eye. He could even keep up with me, so how could he fall behind with his strong physique? Did he escape in the dark? Damn it, it’s better for him to run away. Being alive is a blessing. Looking at the dark and wet surroundings in a foreign land, Wang Laokou felt uncomfortable all over. This is not a good feng shui. I would rather be buried on the sunny high ground in my hometown than die in this wet ghost place. Thinking of this, he couldn’t help but spit. Pah! What am I thinking? It’s unlucky.

After stopping for a while, the sweat disappeared, and the cold air immediately penetrated the wet uniform and entered the body, making him shiver. He quickly stood up, packed himself up and returned to the marching team. Numb figures followed one another, running mechanically, and from time to time someone stumbled and fell in the mud and got up again. Wang Laokou stepped up his pace appropriately to catch up with the third company. He inadvertently ran behind a small man. The black shadow looked familiar. Could it be the silly boy who was a foodie? He couldn't help but run a few steps to catch up, and raised his hand to pat the small figure on the shoulder.

"Oh my god!" The silly boy was just running after Hu Yi, when he suddenly felt a dry hand on his shoulder. He was so scared that his soul flew away, and his legs went weak and he fell directly into the mud. He turned around and took a closer look: "Platoon Leader!"

Hu Yi stopped and turned around when he heard the strange cry of the silly boy behind him. It was none other than the third platoon leader, Wang Laokou.

"Oh, Xiao Hu! I thought you... Hey, silly boy, why did you follow me here, you foodie? Are you really stupid or have you never grown up?"

Hu Yi pulled the silly boy up from the ground and helped him pull up the sleeves of his oversized military uniform. He said to Wang Laokou, "This silly boy doesn't want to be a deserter, so he can't be chased away."

Alas - Wang Laokou sighed: "Silly boy, your life is your own, you can do whatever you want."

Hu Yi, Wang Laokou, and the silly boy slowly caught up with the end of the third company and returned to the third row. The five figures merged into the background composed of hundreds of figures, turning into a gray rushing river, flowing in the mud, flowing through the fields and gullies, and flowing to the Huangpu River in a foreign land.