Chapter 69 Air Force
The huge red cross flag rising in the British trench opposite immediately attracted Lu Mingfei's attention. The red and white colors were particularly eye-catching on the battlefield. He squinted his eyes slightly and observed carefully through the rain.
Below the flag, there was a lone figure holding a small white flag, slowly crawling out of the trench.
The man looked very cautious, taking every step very slowly, fearing that he would make any misunderstood move. He raised his hand high to indicate that he was not carrying any weapon, and he also raised the white flag with his other hand.
He also had a red cross armband on his arm, representing a medical soldier. The bright red cross symbol was particularly eye-catching against the gray background, showing his intentions to everyone.
A Prussian machine gunner immediately became alert and quickly aimed his machine gun at the man who walked out of the trench, his finger ready to pull the trigger at any time. Not knowing what the man's purpose was, it would be better to shoot him to death in order to reduce the risk.
There was no hesitation in his eyes. If he waited another second, he would send that reckless guy to hell.
"Wait a minute and see what he is going to do." Lu Mingfei quickly spoke up to stop the machine gunner's action. He wanted to know what the British soldier was going to do.
The British soldier holding the white flag stopped in the middle of the no-man's land. He took a deep breath and obviously went through a psychological struggle. Then he shouted loudly in broken Prussian: "I am the commander of the 11th Battalion. Can you temporarily cease fire so that we can treat the wounded?"
His voice was trembling due to nervousness and unfamiliarity with the language, but the hint of begging in his tone was particularly clear in the dead silent battlefield.
The British military high command had expressly prohibited British soldiers from privately negotiating a ceasefire with the Prussian soldiers, but as night fell and the first day of the offensive ended, some British soldiers and officers, listening to the wailing coming from the no-man's land, could no longer endure the mental torture and planned to secretly negotiate a ceasefire with the Prussian soldiers on the opposite side.
These soldiers knew in their hearts that as the rain fell, the wounded lying in the no-man's land were in imminent danger. If they continued to let them struggle in pain in that bloody and muddy land, it would undoubtedly be a cruel test of human nature.
"Mr. Lieutenant, do you want to agree?" Hill asked hesitantly while standing aside. His heart was full of contradictions. He wanted to end the suffering of these people, but he was also worried that this might be a trap set by the enemy.
Lu Mingfei was silent for a long time, and his heart was very conflicted, but in the end he slowly nodded and agreed to the other party's request. After all, he had never intended to let those wounded soldiers die from the beginning, otherwise he would have aimed directly at the fatal parts when shooting.
"Okay, but don't bring too many people." Lu Mingfei responded in English. His voice was calm but his tone revealed caution.
When the British officer heard Lu Mingfei's response, a look of relief appeared on his face. He quickly turned around and ran back to the trench. The huge pressure he was carrying seemed to be released at this moment.
Not long after, a dozen British medics carrying stretchers and wearing Red Cross armbands climbed out of the trenches. They walked slowly and carefully towards the no-man's land, fearing that they would cause misunderstanding to Lu Mingfei and the others.
Rain kept dripping from the brims of their hats, but they didn't care. All they had eyes for were the wounded who were groaning in pain.
When Lu Mingfei saw this scene, he felt slightly relieved, but still remained highly vigilant. He walked to a machine gun and aimed it at the medics who were carrying the wounded.
Although he agreed to the other party's request to treat the wounded, it did not mean that he would relax his vigilance. The battlefield was full of variables, and any negligence could lead to irreversible consequences. He must be responsible for the soldiers around him.
The rain gradually got heavier, and the blood that had already begun to coagulate melted again under the rain, turning the entire no-man's land into a sea of blood.
British medics struggled to carry the wounded onto stretchers in the increasingly heavy rain, their movements appearing labored and anxious.
The mixture of rain and mud made their footsteps heavy, but they still gritted their teeth and persisted in completing this difficult task.
There were so many wounded in the no-man's land that it was impossible for just a dozen medical soldiers to move all of them. They ran back and forth, and their sweat and rain had already mixed together, soaking their clothes.
But despite this, Lu Mingfei would never allow more British troops to set foot in the no-man's land. He knew that the more people entered the no-man's land, the more likely it would bring unpredictable dangers.
"Go and move our wounded to the middle area." Lu Mingfei said to Hill and other soldiers around him. His voice remained calm, but he was struggling fiercely in his heart.
There are also many wounded people in the no-man's land near them. These people are also struggling on the line between life and death. If the British army is asked to come and carry them, it may bring a slight risk. Instead of doing so, it is better to do it themselves. Not only can it ensure safety, but it can also reduce the burden on the medical soldiers on the opposite side.
Hill and other soldiers acted quickly. They carried stretchers and ran to the no-man's land in the rain. They carefully lifted the wounded and carried them to the middle area.
Lu Mingfei pushed the sickle-weasel to its limit. His mind was highly concentrated. He captured every change and movement in the no-man's land. As long as there was any disturbance, he could react quickly.
At the same time, he also urged the Eye of the Wind King to start blowing away the cumulonimbus clouds in the sky. At first, he just wanted the clouds to block the sun to cool down the battlefield a little. It would also be nice if there could be some drizzle to quench the thirst of the wounded soldiers.
He never thought of the rain drowning the wounded soldiers. After all, it was so unfair to let a group of children who had just graduated from school fight against a monster like him who had experienced hundreds of battles and crawled out of hell.
At this moment, Lu Mingfei captured the conversation between the British medics through the sickle-weasel. Although the distance was far, the wind carried their voices to Lu Mingfei's ears.
The conversations among the British troops were filled with anxiety and worry.
"This damn rain! I don't know how many young men will be infected and die because of this rain!" A British medic carried a wounded soldier breathlessly and placed him carefully on a stretcher.
He looked down at the wounds of the wounded, and when he saw the blood begin to flow again under the rain, his face was full of helplessness and anger. He understood that in such an environment, the wounds would easily become infected, and they did not have sufficient medical conditions to treat these infected wounded.
"I hope the rain won't be too heavy. So many wounded soldiers can't be sent to the rear at once. They will get soaked." Another British medic prayed while speeding up his actions to try to carry the wounded back to safety as quickly as possible.
Hearing these words, Lu Mingfei's heart sank and his whole body turned cold. He suddenly realized that his originally kind action might cause greater harm to these wounded soldiers.
The long period of killing had almost brought his spirit to the brink of collapse, and later he forced himself to rely on nicotine to numb his brain. At that time, his only thought was to see if he could reduce the death of these British soldiers so as to reduce his inner guilt. But now that he had woken up after a good sleep, he finally realized what a stupid mistake he had made.
Lu Mingfei, Lu Mingfei, how could you forget that bacteria and dust in rainwater can cause wound infection? There is no penicillin now, have you forgotten how Kemmerich died? Why should these people who should have been treated suffer more?
His heart was shrouded in a deep sense of self-blame, and he began to realize how hypocritical and disgusting the kindness he had previously thought of was.
He originally thought that he was helping these people, but he did not expect that his little bit of kindness would become their death warrant. He now regretted why he did not shoot and kill all those British soldiers at the beginning, at least that way they would suffer less pain. However, regret is of no avail now, the only thing he can do is to try his best to make amends.
Lu Mingfei began to completely disregard his own physical and mental exhaustion and almost desperately activated the Eye of the Wind King, trying to blow away the cumulonimbus clouds in the sky. Eventually, the rain began to gradually weaken, but everything was already a foregone conclusion.
"Mr. Lieutenant, what's wrong with you?" After Hill and other soldiers moved the British wounded on their side to the middle of the no-man's land, they returned to the top of the bunker. His body was still covered with blood and rain from carrying the wounded.
When he saw Lu Mingfei's distorted face and abnormal expression, Hill couldn't help feeling a little confused. In his impression, Lu Mingfei had always been a calm and decisive person, and rarely showed such a painful expression.
"Hill... I seem to have really turned into a monster that only knows how to kill..." Lu Mingfei's voice was low and hoarse, and every word seemed to carry endless pain. He began to realize that he had gradually lost his humanity in this battlefield full of killing and death. He originally just wanted to try his best to protect himself and the people around him, but now he began to gradually lose himself and became a cold machine that only knew how to kill.
The rain gradually stopped, the dark clouds in the sky began to disperse, and the orange sunset glow appeared in the sky, but Lu Mingfei knew that he could never go back to the past. That kind of pure kindness and humanity might have been torn into pieces when he killed someone for the first time.
All that was left for him was to fight, to keep moving forward on this bloody battlefield, towards an unknown end.
……
In Montreal, France, a heavy sense of depression hung in the air at the British Expeditionary Force headquarters, and the overcast sky outside the window indicated an impending storm.
The adjutant strode into the office. His footsteps seemed particularly abrupt in the silent space. He held a latest report tightly in his hand. The paper of the report was slightly curled due to his nervousness.
"General, what should we do now?" The adjutant placed the first day's battle report on the Somme heavily on Haig's desk and said with a slight tremor in his voice.
His eyes were fixed on Haig, who was sitting opposite him, hoping to get an inspiring answer from the commander-in-chief.
Haig raised his eyes slightly and glanced at the report indifferently. When he saw the numbers on it, he frowned slightly and then responded coldly.
"I see."
The adjutant's eyes widened, and he could hardly believe his ears.
"Have you seen this number? On July 7, our casualties reached 1! This means that almost half of the soldiers in the 61816 infantry battalions that took part in the first wave of attack fell on the battlefield! And the casualty rate of officers reached 143 percent." The adjutant raised his voice uncontrollably, anger and uneasiness intertwined in his words.
Haig remained unmoved, tapping the tabletop with his fingers.
"We are at war, and there will always be casualties in war. Didn't our army complete all combat objectives? It's just that the casualties are heavy." His tone was calm without any fluctuation. The numbers in the report were really just numbers to him.
The adjutant's hands clenched involuntarily. He felt his blood burning with anger. He could not understand Haig's indifference, nor could he accept such an attitude.
"What about this?" He threw a photo onto Haig's desk. The photo slid gently and finally stopped in front of Haig.
It was a photo taken from an airplane. The picture showed a no-man's land stained red with blood and death. The ground was littered with the bodies of British soldiers. They all fell in front of a barbed wire, as if they were blocked on the brink of death by an invisible force.
Behind the barbed wire, a small bunker can be vaguely seen. A machine gun on the bunker is spitting out flames mercilessly, like the scythe of the god of death, mercilessly reaping young lives.
"At least thousands of our soldiers died on this line of defense, but we couldn't even break through the enemy's barbed wire." The adjutant's voice trembled slightly with anger, and his fingertips turned slightly white due to the force.
"Those Prussians pinned us down with just one machine gun. Do you still think we have accomplished our combat objectives? Moreover, most of the areas that were captured were contributed by the French army. Our progress was minimal!" He no longer cared whether the person sitting opposite him was his superior or not. He needed an explanation, an explanation that could make these unnecessary sacrifices meaningful.
Haig narrowed his eyes slightly and finally moved his gaze from the report to the photo. His gaze lingered on the scene in the photo for a while.
"I'll find a way to deal with him." After seeing the photo, Haig's usually calm attitude finally fluctuated a little, but he still ignored the adjutant's anger and his tone remained calm.
"What you have to do now is to transfer all available trains to the Somme River and transport the surviving wounded back to Britain." Haig waved his hand, signaling the adjutant that he could leave. There was no extra emotion in his tone. In his opinion, these wounded did not deserve more attention. His eyes had returned to the documents on the table, as if he was thinking about the next offensive plan.
The adjutant's face turned red and white, his fists clenched tightly, and he wanted to punch Haig in the face but finally held back. He turned around angrily and walked towards the door with heavy steps.
When he reached the door, he turned sharply and glared at Hager, then slammed the door shut with a bang that shook the air in the room.
Haig's gaze returned to the photo. He carefully looked at the blurry figure holding the machine gun in the photo, his eyes revealing a hint of faint interest and inquiry.
The figure was hidden in the trench, and the machine gun flames almost completely obscured him, but one could still feel the cold murderous intent from him.
"Is this the half-breed you were talking about?" Hager said in a low and cold voice.
"Yes." A black figure slowly emerged from the shadows beside him, his voice low and carrying an inexplicable sense of threat. He stood behind Hegge, his eyes also fixed on the photo.
"So how should this problem be solved?" Hegge frowned slightly, his eyes still fixed on the photo.
"The damage today is so great, but the progress is so little. If the subsequent attacks are still like this, I'm afraid my position will be difficult to maintain. You spent so much effort to push me to this position, now it may be in vain." His tone was still calm, but it revealed a hint of anxiety and uneasiness. He knew that if the situation continued like this, his future would also be in jeopardy.
The black figure nodded slightly, his voice still low: "Don't worry, the Elder Council has spent so much to push you to this position, and will definitely not let you go down so easily." There was an inexplicable certainty in his voice that soothed Heger's worries.
"The people sent by the Presbyterian Church are already on the way. When the time comes, they will not only attack that half-blood, but also help break through the Prussian defense line." The black figure continued.
Heiger's brows relaxed slightly, but he still had a hint of doubt: "Relying on only one or two hybrids, I'm afraid they won't play a decisive role in such a war."
"Moreover, the half-blood you want to kill seems to be quite powerful. Are you sure you can help us break through his defenses?" In his opinion, victory or defeat on the battlefield does not only depend on the strength of a few strong men, but a comprehensive showdown of the entire strategy, resources and manpower.
The black figure smiled faintly, and there was a hint of mystery and confidence in his laughter.
"The Elder Council sent more than just one or two half-bloods this time," he said slowly, his voice full of hints.
"Moreover, this time we not only rely on the power of the hybrids, but also a special force - the Air Force. If we can't break through their defenses from the ground, then we will do it from the sky."
"Air Force?" Haig was slightly stunned when he heard the word Air Force.
"Yes, the Air Force. We will find a way to attract the Prussian Air Force on the Somme to the skies above Verdun. Then the Prussian troops on the Somme will become blind, and the British artillery will accurately strike those machine gun positions under the guidance of the aircraft. Moreover, there are many ace pilots and mixed-bloods in the Air Force coming to the Somme this time. Then you will know what a real air force is."
I'll finish writing The Somme as soon as possible. I don't know if Lu Mingfei is crazy or not, but I'm really about to be crazy.
(End of this chapter)
