Dragon Raja: Lu Mingfei's War Journey

Chapter 63 Artillery and Poison Gas Drills and the Incompetent Commander

"Hurry up and dig! We only have half an hour, or we'll really die!" Lu Mingfei shouted, swinging his entrenching tool rapidly.

The new recruits next to them also dug desperately, each of them trying to move their shovels so fast they were blurry. In half an hour, they dug a tunnel sixty centimeters deep.

Soil mixed with gravel flew everywhere as the entrenching tools were wildly swung. Everyone had only one thought in their mind: to dig faster!

"Not deep enough! Go deeper! It needs to be at least 1.2 meters deep to stop shrapnel!" Caesar's voice came from not far away, equally urgent.

His squad was also digging frantically nearby, both squads filled with fear of the impending shelling.

"Damn it—what on earth is going on—" Otto cursed as he shoveled away, his hands already blistered and bleeding.

Just half an hour earlier, they were still learning how to dig foxholes and communication trenches, while Sergeant Hermann, as always, stood by and mocked them, whipping those who were slow to move.

But without warning, an unusual rumble of thunder suddenly came from the distant horizon, followed by the sounding of an artillery alarm in the training camp, plunging the other platoons of recruits into chaos.

"Everyone! Dig bunkers on the spot immediately! Hurry! This is not a drill! The French artillery fire is coming! You only have half an hour to dig trenches!" Sergeant Hermann's roar carried a hint of genuine anxiety and fear for the first time.

The new recruits were instantly thrown into chaos, and fear began to spread.

Artillery fire? Real artillery fire? They're going to die in this damn training camp before they even get to the battlefield?

Lu Mingfei and Caesar were the first to react.

"Hansban! Dig right here!" Lu Mingfei shouted with almost all his might, and at the same time, he was the first to fall to the ground and grab the entrenching tool.

"Hoffmann squad! Use me as a reference point to dig craters! Cover each other!" Caesar's order was equally swift and decisive.

The instinct for survival overwhelmed everything. Fifty students from two classes began a race against death on this open space that was originally used for training.

The soil piled up quickly, and a shallow pit gradually took shape. Just then, one or two shells landed about 300 meters in front of the camp.

"Everyone down! Cover your ears! Open your mouths!" Lu Mingfei shouted at the top of his lungs when he saw several new recruits still in a daze.

As soon as he finished speaking, the whistling sound of shells cutting through the air rang out again. This time, the shells were only fifty meters away from them, and Lu Mingfei could clearly feel the ground shaking.

Shells continued to fall, getting closer and closer, and scorching blasts of air carrying dirt and gravel rushed towards us.

The powerful shockwave caused soil to fall from the edge of the newly dug shallow pit, making everyone's eardrums ring and their internal organs churn.

"Ah!" Bruckner from Lu Mingfei's class was so frightened that he trembled all over and even screamed, but was immediately pressed down into the pit by Lu Mingfei next to him.

"Bruckner! Grab the shovel! Dig! Get moving if you don't want to die!" Lu Mingfei shoved an entrenching tool into Bruckner's hand, while he himself lay down in the pit and desperately dug the trench deeper.

The will to survive finally overcame the fear, and Bruckner, crying, grabbed a shovel and joined the digging.

Every second felt like an eternity. The shells kept moving, sometimes right up close, leaving people dizzy and disoriented, and sometimes a little further away, giving them a brief respite.

Lu Mingfei dared not stop digging. He hadn't found Nuonuo yet; he couldn't die here! Absolutely not!

Meanwhile, Caesar began to calm down, lying in the newly dug trench, reflecting on the inconsistencies of the whole situation.

Keep in mind that they are currently in Prussian territory. Although it is on the border, it is still Prussian land, and French artillery fire could never reach here.

Moreover, how did Sergeant Hermann know that they would have half an hour to dig trenches, and that shells would land near them as soon as the half hour was up, as if timed perfectly? Everything about it seemed abnormal.

Then Caesar closed his eyes, and his pupils, invisible to others, suddenly turned into a dazzling golden color. The wind demon residing in his mind began to fly out and spread outward, while transmitting the surrounding sounds back to his mind.

At a distance of 800 meters, Caesar heard the sounds of mortar fire and conversations from the Word of Power: Kamaitachi.

"Loading complete!"

"Angle correction, two mils to the left!"

Eight hundred meters away, a three-man mortar team was operating a 75.8mm light mortar to bombard the camp.

Standing next to the mortar team, carefully observing the impact points through binoculars, was Sergeant Major Hermann with a thick red beard.

"Sergeant Herman, are you sure you want to continue? This is the sixth round already! We—we won't be court-martialed for this, will we? This is live ammunition! They're firing at our own men!"

"The gunner of the artillery crew," a middle-aged sergeant with a scar on his face asked hesitantly.

"Continue with another round of shelling, and use tear gas to simulate poison gas for the last few rounds," Hermann said, putting down his binoculars.

"But----"

"No buts! I, Hermann Strauss, will bear all the consequences. What kind of soldier is a soldier who has never smelled gunpowder, endured artillery fire and poison gas? A hothouse flower will die even faster on the front lines and will even kill his comrades."

He paused, then raised his binoculars again and said, "Once I reach the edge of the camp, you fire tear gas, understand?"

"Yes, sir!"

Hearing these conversations, Caesar's golden eyes trembled slightly beneath his closed eyelids. Just as he had expected, this could not possibly be a French shelling. But he hadn't expected that it was actually a training exercise arranged by Hermann.

"What a complete madman!" Caesar muttered to himself.

Even Kassel College, a place that gathers elite hybrids with the goal of slaying dragons, would never dare to use live ammunition to train inexperienced freshmen.

They mostly use Friga bullets, those specially made tranquilizer darts, while here they use real mortar shells that can sever limbs and kill people.

Even with prior surveying and calculations, the accuracy of such light mortars during World War I was far from reliable. Was Hermann, this madman, really not afraid that they would be either killed or maimed? Was he so certain that his teaching plan was foolproof?

But no one could answer his question, the shelling continued, and Caesar's scythes spotted Hermann heading back to camp.

He recalled Hermann's conversation with the artillerymen; it seemed they were about to conduct a poison gas drill.

"Everyone put on your gas masks!" Caesar shouted, opening his eyes.

Upon hearing Caesar's order, the new recruits in Hoffmann's squad were initially taken aback: "Wear gas masks? Why?"

However, trusting Caesar, they took out the gas masks they always kept at their waists and put them on their faces.

Meanwhile, dozens of meters away, Lu Mingfei's Hansban was completely unaware of this.

Lu Mingfei was still digging trenches, but the shelling suddenly stopped.

"Is it over?" Otto murmured to himself, unable to resist slightly raising his body to peek out and see what was happening outside.

"Get down! You idiot!" Lu Mingfei shoved Otto's head back into the pit, the force so great that Otto's head hit the pit wall.

Who knows what the situation is like outside? You could get shot in the head if you're not careful.

"After the shelling ends, the enemy will likely launch an attack on us. Grip your entrenching tools tightly and be ready for hand-to-hand combat at any time!" Lu Mingfei said in a low voice.

None of them were carrying guns now, only entrenching tools. These new recruits finally understood why Sergeant Herman always emphasized that guns were their wives, their other halves, and that they would hold them even when sleeping.

If they had guns now, they wouldn't be in such a passive position. Lu Mingfei vowed that after getting through this crisis, he would sleep with a gun in his arms every night.

Just as Lu Mingfei and his new recruits were waiting to engage in hand-to-hand combat with the approaching enemy, the sky once again echoed with the whistling sound of artillery shells cutting through the air, but instead of an explosion, a plume of white smoke rose.

Lu Mingfei and the others had no idea what was going on, but the next moment Herman's shout came.

"Poison gas! Everyone put on your gas masks!"

poison gas?!

This term, which had been mentioned in training but seemed so far away, suddenly transformed into a deadly threat that was right at hand, accompanied by eerie shrieks in the air and rising white smoke.

"Quick, get the gas mask!" Lu Mingfei shouted.

Otto was the first to react, frantically trying to pull at the metal canister containing the gas mask from his waist. In his panic, he almost ripped the canister off.

The others were even worse off. Bruckner was already terrified and his hands and feet were weak. When he heard the word "poison gas," his mind went completely blank, and his fingers trembled. He couldn't open the metal canister no matter what he did.

Carl, who was standing nearby, tried to help, but his own mask fell into the newly dug mud pit and got covered in wet mud.

Lu Mingfei's heart rate soared instantly, and his adrenaline surged as he saw white smoke rapidly spreading and surging towards their area.

"Don't panic! Look carefully before you put it on!" Lu Mingfei forced himself to shout at the top of his lungs, trying to suppress the panic of those around him.

At the same time, he opened the metal canister at his waist, took out the rubber mask inside, quickly checked the eyepiece and filter canister, and then forcefully put it on his face.

The rubber edge pressed tightly against his skin, feeling cold and constricting. His vision instantly narrowed and blurred, and his breathing became heavy and labored. The hissing sound of the filter canister as it inhaled amplified in his ears, but he ignored the discomfort and immediately turned to help the people around him after putting on the mask.

"Bruckner! Look at me! Like this!" Lu Mingfei grabbed Bruckner's trembling hand, helped him take out the gas mask, and put it on his face.

"Otto! Yours!"

"Karl! Pick it up! Wipe it! Quickly!"

Like a fierce beast protecting its cubs, Lu Mingfei rushed to help the other students in the class amidst the rapidly closing white smoke.

He clearly remembered Hermann's description of the lethality of poison gas. Some gases could kill within minutes, but others were slow and painful, causing severe chemical burns and erosions primarily through contact with the skin, eyes, and respiratory tract. He had no way of distinguishing the types of these gases.

Although Lu Mingfei had tried his best to help others, how could he possibly outrun the gas? The white smoke completely enveloped their trenches, and some recruits who hadn't yet put on their gas masks began to show symptoms.

"Cough cough cough—Squad leader—am I going to die—" A new recruit coughed violently, his eyes red and tears streaming down his face. He reached out to Lu Mingfei and cried out.

"Squad leader, save me—" another recruit who hadn't put on his gas mask properly cried out.

"Squad leader—squad leader—run!—abandon us!"

Lu Mingfei stared blankly at the pained and contorted faces around him, and heard the repeated calls of "Class Monitor." He had no idea what to do next.

Time seemed to stretch out at that moment. The white smoke still lingered, carrying a pungent, acrid smell. Even with a gas mask on, Lu Mingfei felt a stinging sensation in his eyes and an itchy throat.

Those soldiers who didn't have time to put on their masks properly, or whose masks weren't worn securely, were experiencing pain several times greater than his.

Although Bruckner had been given a mask by Lu Mingfei, he was so flustered that the seal at his chin was not completely tight. He was coughing and frantically trying to adjust it, with tears and snot smearing all over the inside of the mask.

Otto had put on his mask, but he had inhaled some smoke while helping others and was now dry heaving uncomfortably.

The worst off were Carl and two other recruits who reacted the slowest. Carl's mask fell into a mud pit, and although he picked it up and put it back on, the filter canister may have gotten muddy, greatly reducing its protective effect. He covered his face with his hands, curled up on the ground, and his body convulsed due to violent coughing and burning pain.

The other two were completely exposed to the smoke, their eyes so swollen they could barely open, tears and snot streaming down their faces, their respiratory tracts feeling like they had been burned, each breath accompanied by a horrifying hiss and painful spasms.

Lu Mingfei stared blankly at everything. In the Andes Mountains, he could transform into a demon to protect Nuonuo, but now, facing this poisonous gas and his companions struggling in pain because of his lack of command and preparation and their slow reaction, he felt only a sense of powerlessness.

He seemed to have all his strength drained away, and he knelt down with a thud, looking at the pained and distorted faces of the people around him.

He killed the recruits who called him squad leader; he was not a qualified commander.

Although he hadn't been in contact with these people for long, they trusted him and followed him as their leader.

Whether it was the irritating gas seeping in through the gaps in the gas mask or the overwhelming sadness in his heart, two lines of tears slid down his cheeks.

The next moment, his gas mask was ripped off, followed by a heavy slap. The force was so great that Lu Mingfei's head snapped to one side, his cheek instantly burning with pain, and his ears ringing.

"What are your tears?! Is this how you command?! Useless! Coward!" Sergeant Hermann's furious voice rang in Lu Mingfei's ears.

He grabbed Lu Mingfei by the collar; if he hadn't been wearing a gas mask, his spittle would have almost landed on Lu Mingfei's face.

Waste? Coward?

These two words were like a red-hot branding iron, making Lu Mingfei's heart clench.

Having returned alive from the Andes Mountains, he thought he had long since distanced himself from those two words, but now, looking at his companions struggling in pain beside him and listening to Hermann's roar, he found himself unable to refute them.