Even if I'm a useless bum at Whampoa Military Academy, I'll be invincible in the War of Re

After his first real battle, Guo Fugui became much bolder than before and knew how to stick his head out of the trench to observe the battlefield situation.

Compared to the previous probing attacks, this time the Japanese were clearly serious, and the scale was estimated to be two battalions.

They advanced almost stepping on the artillery positions. By the time the defending soldiers returned to their positions, the Japanese skirmish line had already advanced to the opposite bank of the river, only a dozen meters away from the surface.

As the Japanese troops prepared to cross the river in large numbers, volleys of artillery shells flew from deep within the defenders' defensive positions, causing heavy casualties to the attacking forces.

The Japanese soldiers of the Guozhi Brigade were not intimidated by the bloodshed of the battlefield. They ignored the constant bombings that killed their comrades around them.

These Japanese soldiers had long been brainwashed by the Bushido spirit. They set off and made a pact to meet at the Yasukuni Ghost Toilet!

Many Japanese soldiers firmly believed that dying in battle was not painful, but a relief, so that they could go to the Yasukuni Shrine and enjoy the offerings of thousands of families.

The soldiers of the 646th Regiment decided to fulfill their long-cherished wish and unleashed a dense hail of bullets at the Japanese.

The battle intensified, and many Japanese soldiers exposed in the open were shot dead, their corpses piled up in layers, a sight that made one want to vomit.

Guo Fugui thought he had seen a lot and wouldn't vomit, but he overestimated himself.

Physiological discomfort cannot be resolved in one or two battles; war is only responsible for killing.

Guo Fugui vomited twice in a row, finally emptying his stomach. After wiping his mouth, he continued fighting.

Although he was conscripted by the government, he was like a different person once he was on the battlefield.

The atrocities committed by the Japanese invaders had long been known throughout China. Guo Fugui had heard about them when he was at home, and they were described in great detail.

They say the Japanese devils have three heads and six arms, red hair and green eyes, are invulnerable to swords and spears, kill anyone they see, and eat children's hearts, scaring children so much that they dare not cry.

When they arrived on the battlefield, they realized that the three heads and six arms were nothing but gossamer pumpkins, short and ferocious.

The squad leader was right; one bullet would still kill the ball.

Guo Fugui's hand holding the gun stopped trembling, and the Japanese soldiers inside the barrel were getting closer and closer, close enough to make out their faces.

They are not good people.

Guo Fugui aimed at the Japanese soldier and fired the first bullet. Although it missed the target in the muzzle, it still took the life of a Japanese soldier.

Luckily, the east was dark while the northwest was bright, and the enemy was hit nearby.

Guo Fugui glanced around nervously and found that no one was paying attention to him. Everyone was firing at the Japanese soldiers, and the bullets were piled up, so no one knew who to shoot.

That's not important, as long as we can kill the Japanese, everyone deserves credit.

Guo Fugui has achieved the following: one Japanese soldier killed, one wounded, and two enemy soldiers killed. A reward will be given.

The spotter confirmed Guo Fugui's achievement, and the latter, imitating the veteran, carved two thin lines, one long and one short, on the butt of his rifle.

Guo Fugui is an honest man; he only uses short, thin strips of cloth for the wounded, and only the seriously wounded are eligible.

Both sides had already reached an understanding that the lightly wounded would not be counted, and no one included them in the casualty statistics.

He fired mechanically, and in a short time, he had emptied five bridge clips. Gradually, he adapted to the combat atmosphere and once again killed two Japanese soldiers.

Guo Fugui seemed to have suddenly gained superpowers, and this scene was witnessed by a veteran who had previously looked down on him, who couldn't help but praise him:

"Not bad, kid. You're a pretty good shot. After this battle, you'll be a veteran."

Guo Fugui said with his neck stiff:

"I'm a veteran now, I've already killed and wounded four Japanese soldiers. If anyone calls me a greenhorn again, I'll fight them!"

His voice even drowned out the gunfire, so that others would hear that he had killed four Japanese soldiers.

Killing the Japanese without showing off is like wearing fine clothes in the dark.

The veteran grinned and said:

"Alright, Brother Fugui, you're a true veteran now. Keep up the good work."

After the veteran finished speaking, he patted the butt of his rifle, which was covered with densely engraved lines—his medals.

Guo Fugui felt the pressure, but he was not convinced. He secretly made up his mind to carve the dog lives of the Japanese devils all over his rifle butt.

The Japanese skirmishers had already pushed their skirmish lines across the river, closing the distance further, and Guo Fugui could even see the Japanese soldiers' ferocious faces clearly.

"Go to hell!"

Guo Fugui pulled the trigger again, and the target fell down—another one!

"Tap tap tap..."

A volley of machine gun fire sent dust billowing around Guo Fugui. The old soldier who had been bantering with him moments before was shot in the chest and fell. The squad leader quickly pounced on him and shouted:

"He's still breathing! Come help him!"

Guo Fugui immediately stopped firing and ducked into the trench. At that moment, the squad leader was treating the veteran's wounds and constantly comforting him.

"You're lucky, kid. If it had been just a fraction off, it would have hit your heart, and even a god couldn't have saved you."

The veteran grimaced in pain.

"Stop trying to comfort me, I'm definitely going to die this time, it fucking hurts!"

"Hey, Lao Liu, can you be a little gentler? You're squeezing me so tight."

After the team leader disinfected the veteran with special alcohol, he gave a cold shout:

"First aid kit, quick!"

Guo Fugui hurriedly tore open the first aid kit and handed it to the team leader, who quickly bandaged the veteran's wound.

Guo Fugui had never seen a living person bleed so much up close before, and asked with concern:

"I hope Brother Chen isn't dead!"

The veteran was displeased upon hearing this and said through gritted teeth:

"You little brat, are you hoping I die? Can't you say something auspicious?"

After bandaging the veteran's wound, the team leader breathed a sigh of relief, casually slapped the veteran, and laughed as he scolded:

"Even a bullet couldn't shut you up, why are you yelling at Chong Fugui? He's still just a child!"

"Team leader, I'm eighteen years old! I just killed some Japanese soldiers, I'm a veteran!"

Guo Fugui protested loudly. Although he had lied about being two years older, he was already a strong and capable man. To call him a child was an insult.

The veteran laughed rather unkindly, almost reopening his wound, and winced in pain again.

The team leader ignored their banter and instructed the veteran:

"You stay put, there's no time to take you to the hospital now."

"Fugui, the Japanese are coming! Let's fight them to the death!"

After treating the veteran's wounds, the two rejoined the battle.

At this moment, the Japanese soldiers had already rushed to the bottom of the dike. The squad leader casually threw down two grenades, which took down three Japanese soldiers.

The rich follow suit, putting down their guns and throwing grenades at the devil.

He had been herding sheep for landlords since he was a child. He had to throw stones to drive the sheep, and he was good at throwing stones far and accurately. Now he could use that skill.

His first grenade was thrown forty paces away, landing precisely in the midst of the Japanese troops, as accurate as a small cannon.

The group leader praised:

"Fugui, I didn't know you had a special skill. Throw him into the crowd and kill the hell out of him!"

Fu Gui, who was praised, seemed to have been given a cheat code. He threw several grenades in succession, all of which hit the target accurately, killing and injuring seven or eight Japanese soldiers.

The group leader shouted excitedly:

"You little punk, stop shooting! Go get a box of grenades and blow the hell out of there!"

Zhang Fugui was also a bit carried away. The Tiger Legion had a surplus of grenades, with each soldier receiving more than ten grenades per battle, which was perfect for clearing out their inventory.

During their battles, they captured a large number of Japanese-made melon grenades, which came in handy.

After groping along the trench for less than ten meters, Chang Fugui found half a box of German-made long-handled grenades. These were good stuff; one blast could cover a large area, and their power was comparable to a mortar shell.

The Japanese soldiers below the river embankment were densely packed. They swarmed towards the embankment like locusts. Zhang Fugui grabbed a grenade and threw it down one by one, causing the Japanese soldiers to fall to the ground.

Zhang Fugui threw grenades from his high vantage point, emptying half a box of grenades in a short time. Countless Japanese soldiers died at his hands.

Only after the Japanese soldiers, unable to withstand the heavy casualties, retreated did the squad leader say with certainty:

"At least twenty, I'll recommend you for credit!"

Zhang Fugui's rank was still private, but he was ambitious and his primary goal was to be promoted to corporal.

Corporals are non-commissioned officers, and their monthly military pay is several dollars more. Who would turn down money like that?

"Squad leader, can this get me promoted to private first class?"

The team leader said with certainty:

"More than twenty heads taken, plus those from before, I reckon they must be corporals!"

Zhang Fugui grinned from ear to ear. He hadn't dared to dream of becoming a corporal; he was already content with being promoted to private first class, which would give him an extra silver dollar every month.

The piercing sound of the anti-artillery whistle rang out, and the squad leader yelled at him:

"The Japanese devils are about to fire! Get out of there quickly, staying alive is the best thing you can do!"

Zhang Fugui quickly realized what was happening and scrambled into the bunker. The squad leader was right; if you wanted to become an official, you had to stay alive first.

The squad leader was the last to enter the bunker. Soon after, Japanese shells rained down on the position, explosions echoing everywhere. The squad leader couldn't help but curse:

"Damn it, they got here pretty fast!"