Dragon Raja: Lu Mingfei's War Journey

Chapter 72 Artillery Barrage! Artillery Barrage!

Lu Mingfei stood on the steps and looked out of the trench. The area outside the trench was riddled with shell craters and broken barbed wire.

He could also see that the ground outside was littered with corpses lying on the ground, dressed in blue military uniforms, which were quite conspicuous even in the darkness.

Originally, the French military uniform consisted of a dark blue uniform with bright red trousers. They believed that the red trousers represented the national spirit and should not be easily discarded.

Some officers believed that if soldiers were to switch to camouflage uniforms, they would be more inclined to lie down and hide rather than charge into battle. They argued that the red trousers would make it impossible for them to hide, forcing them to fight head-on.

Such an idea was not a problem when firepower was weak, but times have changed, and the appearance of Maxim completely changed the course of the war.

When Prussia officially launched its attack on France in 1914, they were still wearing red trousers, which made them easy targets on the battlefield, like being marked in a video game.

Later, France hastily changed the color of its military uniforms, but Prussia monopolized 90% of the world's synthetic dyes, leaving France with no other choice but to extract a light blue dye from local plants.

The dye was very expensive, and they believed that the color could blend in with the sky and smoke on the battlefield. However, it turned out that the sky-blue uniforms were still out of place on the battlefield, like blue light bulbs, and continued to be live targets.

"What are you looking at?" Herman asked as he walked up to Lu Mingfei.

"Look where the French are—" Lu Mingfei said. All he could see was darkness, craters on the ground, and uncollected corpses.

"About three hundred meters ahead of us," Herman said, taking a drag of his cigarette.

"Three hundred meters? Why this distance?" Lu Mingfei was stunned and then asked in return. He couldn't see anything at all, so why was Herman so sure?

"Because this distance allows rifle and machine gun fire to cover the entire battlefield most efficiently, and if it's too long, the soldiers will get tired halfway through and just stay in place as live targets," Hermann continued, these were all experiences from surviving on the battlefield.

Just then, a white flare rose into the sky, illuminating the entire battlefield. The pale light made the battlefield as bright as day.

Lu Mingfei saw it. Just 300 meters away, there was a winding line across the chalky soil of the Champagne region. It was a French trench. In the light of the flares, he could clearly see the sandbags at the edge of the trench, the occasional steel helmet peeking out, and the dark muzzles of guns.

Between these two trenches lies a desolate death zone, riddled with bullet holes like pockmarks, and barbed wire like twisted black thorns. The corpses in blue uniforms stand out starkly in the white light, like blue petals scattered at the entrance to hell.

"See that? That's where we're going to be. Those 300 meters are the distance between life and death." Hermann's voice was calm.

Lu Mingfei watched in silence. In the training camp, 300 meters was just a normal distance for rifle shooting, but here, 300 meters was the entrance to hell. Anyone who tried to cross this area would become a target for machine guns and snipers.

"Are you scared?" Lu Mingfei suddenly asked.

Through the flare, he saw Hermann beside him; although his face was expressionless, the hand holding the cigarette was trembling. It was the first time he had ever seen Hermann so out of control.

"Yes—I'm scared. If I can't lead the battle later, you'll have to take on the responsibility of platoon leader." After a long silence, Hermann finally spoke, frankly admitting his fear.

"You—you're not kidding me, are you?" Lu Mingfei gave a stiff smile.

He was counting on Herman, a veteran who had won the Iron Cross First Class, to lead them to survival, but to his surprise, Herman showed even more fear than he did.

"I don't want this to be a joke either—" Herman murmured as he took another drag of his cigarette.

Seeing Herman like this, Lu Mingfei felt increasingly uncertain.

"Alright, go get some rest. The second half of the night is the hardest." Herman patted him on the shoulder.

Lu Mingfei looked at Herman with some worry. In the training camp, Herman was everyone's nightmare—strict, ruthless, and tireless. But now, in the face of this real hell, even he began to tremble.

Lu Mingfei took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. If Herman really couldn't command, then he, a guy with only eight weeks of training experience, would have to take on the responsibility of commanding the entire platoon.

The pressure from this thought made his stomach cramp, and he felt like vomiting. He didn't know if he could bear the weight of more than fifty lives.

Back in Hansban's defense zone, some soldiers were on guard duty, carefully watching the situation outside, while others were taking a break.

Otto dozed off against the trench wall, Karl silently checked the ammunition, while Bruckner stared blankly at a point in the darkness.

"Sergeant, Sergeant Herman—what's wrong with him? I've never seen him like that before." Hearing Lu Mingfei return, Otto opened his eyes and asked, clearly they had also noticed Herman's unusual behavior.

Lu Mingfei hesitated for a moment. Should he tell the truth? Or should he maintain morale?

"It's nothing, Sergeant Herman is just a little tired. I'll be fine with you here." In the end, Lu Mingfei didn't repeat what Herman had just said. With a major battle imminent, he couldn't dampen morale.

Hearing Lu Mingfei's answer, everyone around believed him. After all, Herman was a devil in their eyes, and how could a devil be afraid of hell?

For the next two hours, Lu Mingfei forced himself to rest. He leaned against the trench wall, closed his eyes, but the images kept replaying in his mind: Herman's trembling hands, the ghastly white flare beams, and those blue corpses—

Two hours passed in the blink of an eye. Lu Mingfei and the other soldiers took their shifts, allowing the others to rest.

Every ten minutes, flares would be launched, illuminating the no-man's-land and French trenches ahead. Each illumination would last for 30 seconds.

In the battlefield, there is never true night.

For a while, Lu Mingfei was very vigilant, aiming his gun at the direction of the French trenches. However, after several hours without any movement from the other side, he couldn't help but relax.

It's almost October now, and the nights are starting to get a bit chilly. It even started to drizzle suddenly.

Raindrops slid off the edge of Lu Mingfei's helmet, dripping onto his hand gripping the rifle, wetting his clothes and bringing a chill to his skin.

"It's raining—those Frenchmen probably won't launch an attack, right?" Karl whispered beside him, having just come up from his shift.

"I don't know, but we still can't let our guard down," Lu Mingfei said, shaking his head. Then, he glanced worriedly at the still-falling drizzle and added.

"Also, have others be aware that if the rain gets any heavier, drainage should begin."

Lu Mingfei had heard his teacher mention in history class that there was a special disease during World War I called trench foot, which caused a large number of soldiers to suffer non-combat casualties.

The cause of this disease is very simple: it can be contracted by standing still for a long time in a cold and humid environment, and in severe cases, amputation may be necessary.

The trenches were prone to flooding, and soldiers who had to stand guard in such water for long periods of time were very susceptible to this disease. Lu Mingfei did not want his soldiers to suffer losses because of this.

"Understood, squad leader," Karl replied.

Just as Lu Mingfei was worried that the rain would get heavier, it was already dawn, and the sky was beginning to lighten. The soldiers on guard duty nearby started to yawn. The cold from the rain and the fatigue from standing guard for a long time made them want to find a warm place to sleep immediately.

Just as everyone's vigilance began to relax, a shrill whistle began to ring out in the air.

Lu Mingfei noticed it immediately, but someone else shouted it out even faster than him.

"Fire!" Caesar shouted from the other side of the trench.

"Fire! Everyone take cover!" Lu Mingfei shouted a few seconds later.

The proud Caesar kept a close eye on the outside world in order to prevent a repeat of the previous situation. Indeed, only iron and blood can make a person grow.

The shell landed ten meters in front of the trench, exploding into a cloud of mud and rubble, and the shockwave knocked over several soldiers on guard duty.

Immediately afterwards, the second and the third shells rained down, so densely that it was almost impossible to tell in which order they came first.

This time it was no longer a probing harassment, but an organized and well-prepared barrage of fire.

"Get to the air raid shelter!" Lu Mingfei shouted as he lunged at the nearest Bruckner and dragged him toward the nearest bunker.

The entire defense zone descended into chaos. Soldiers screamed in terror as they searched for cover. Lu Mingfei led his men into the bunker, listening to the continuous explosions overhead.

This is real artillery bombardment! The bombardments they had experienced before were nothing compared to this.

Lu Mingfei felt the world shaking, with only the sound of explosions in his ears. The top of the air-raid shelter was shaking violently, and each explosion caused a lot of dirt and wood chips to fall from the gaps in the supporting structure, landing on the soldiers' helmets and shoulders.

The narrow air-raid shelter was packed with people, all of whom were terrified, fearing that the shelter would collapse.

Lu Mingfei was stunned, and everyone else was stunned. These new recruits had never experienced such a world-ending scene before. At this moment, hell was no longer an abstract concept.

Lu Mingfei didn't know how long the shelling had lasted, but every minute and second felt like an eternity.

The shelling finally ended, but he couldn't hear anything else; all he could hear was ringing in his ears, and his mind was completely blank.

However, as the squad leader, he still forced himself to walk out of the air-raid shelter, using both his hands and feet, and staggered a bit to check the situation outside.

The once relatively well-organized trench system has been completely destroyed, with collapsed breast walls and broken support timbers everywhere.

When his tinnitus subsided somewhat, he heard a voice shouting through a thick layer of water—it was Caesar's voice.

The voice was hoarse, completely devoid of its former velvety elegance and composure, leaving only a kind of desperate and madness like a wounded beast.

He turned his head and saw Caesar's golden hair covered in mud, his handsome face blackened by gunpowder smoke. He had completely lost his usual composure, and with blood streaming from his ears, he was frantically digging at a collapsed air-raid shelter, where some of Hoffman's squad had taken refuge.

"Help! Someone come quickly!" he shouted as he dug.

Lu Mingfei then realized what was happening and hurriedly shouted, "Hansban! Everyone who can move, come over here!" He was the first to rush over.

Otto, Karl, Bruckner—the soldiers who could still stand followed behind him, staggering towards the pile of rubble. They dared not use their entrenching tools for fear of knocking down those below, so they began to dig with their hands, digging until their fingernails were torn open and their fingertips bled, but no one stopped.

"Rudolf! Kleiner!" Caesar's voice was completely hoarse as he frantically lifted a broken wooden plank, revealing a familiar face underneath—Rudolf, the one who always asked him questions with a goofy grin.

His eyes were still open, but his pupils were dilated, and half of his head was crushed beyond recognition.

Caesar froze.

"Over here! They're still breathing!" Lu Mingfei shouted from the other side. He and Otto worked together to lift a heavy beam, with two people underneath.

One was Kleiner, who was still conscious, though one leg was bent at an odd angle. When he saw Caesar, he even tried to force a weak smile. The other soldier was in worse shape, his chest heaving slightly and blood foam constantly coming out of his mouth.

"Stretcher! We need a stretcher!" Lu Mingfei shouted as he turned around. Bruckner and another soldier quickly ran to find something they could use.

"Squad leader! The French are charging!" Karl shouted to Lu Mingfei, leaning against the trench with his gun in hand.

Lu Mingfei quickly peeked out and saw groups of French soldiers wearing helmets and blue uniforms climbing out of the trenches in the distance.

"Where's Herman?!" Lu Mingfei shouted, searching everywhere for Herman. They needed someone to lead the battle, but he couldn't find any trace of Herman around.

"Sergeant! Sergeant Herman is here!" A soldier found Herman, but Herman was curled up on the ground, trembling violently, muttering to himself as if he were terrified.

Everyone was stunned by what they saw. Herman was like a terrified child, calling out for his mother.

"Damn it!" Otto was stunned for a moment when he saw this, then angrily walked up to Herman, grabbed him, and slapped him hard across the face.

"You bastard! You were so arrogant when you were training us! Now you've turned into a coward on the real battlefield!" Otto roared as he hit her, spitting on Herman's face.

"You didn't steal your Iron Cross, did you?! Speak up, you damned coward!"

His slaps landed again and again, leaving clear red handprints on Herman's pale face, but Herman remained in a terrified, dazed state.

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