Chapter 625: 584 songs
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The Tang Army’s 1st Armored Division finally ca to a halt, just as they were about to catch a glimpse of the Endless Sea.
Along the way, they had captured almost 20,000 prisoners, fully demonstrating the Armored Corps’ characteristic of striking as swiftly as the wind and as fast as lightning.
There were even tis when their opponents didn’t know the enemy had arrived, and the guns of the Tang Army’s armored vehicles were already pointed at their heads.
However, such relentless rushing ca at a cost, and now they were left with little more than 130 tanks. The rest were either paralyzed on the way or had been destroyed and abandoned.
Liu Guozhu lay next to a tank, washing up. He had been pushing forward day and night for over twenty-four hours, and although it was now noon, he still brushed his teeth and washed his face before settling down for a good sleep.
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Compared to the infantry who marched on foot, he was quite fortunate. At least his tank didn’t mind carrying his daily necessities and tent, nor did it mind carrying his food and drink.
After all, to keep up with the pace of the tank units, the infantry reportedly threw away anything they could on the way.
It is unclear from which war the Tang infantry learned this special skill to trouble the logistics departnt by discarding items.
Once they started moving, they would toss things about; upon encountering refugees, they’d give away what they couldn’t carry; when in high spirits, they’d even throw away the money in their pockets…
Therefore, for the logistics departnt of the Tang Army, the war was also a desperate and chaotic tragedy.
Troops marching forward scattered their belongings, while those returning started collecting refuse: The roads were full of Qi Country soldiers captured by the armored corps, so hands inevitably had to be assigned to escort these soldiers to prisoner-of-war camps or holding areas.
Thus, the units left behind to guard the prisoners on their journey back began to pick up all sorts of junk en route.
At the beginning, the soldiers’ intentions were quite humble: they just wanted to retrieve their own discarded items.
For example, they might have thrown away raincoats and spare clothing and socks in the rush of an attack, and they hoped to find these belongings on their way back.
Although soldiers wouldn’t be fined for discarding so of their gear, they would still face criticism and education, and they might encounter difficulties when retrieving new supplies.
So, getting so items back ant they’d face two fewer reprimands when criticized. But over ti, this scavenging behavior gradually changed its nature.
Because you could never guarantee that what you picked up was your own, the practice subtly transford.
If you lost a raincoat while rushing, but found two pairs of socks and underwear instead, what then?
So, just pick up a bit more. After all, you’d take it back, maybe trade it with the guy in the next unit who found a lunchbox, or haggle with the logistics manager…
“Ha, ptui!” Spitting water onto the tank tracks, Liu Guozhu felt a sense of accomplishnt as he flicked off a clump of mud that stuck there.
His tank was almost unrecognizable from its original paint color, especially the front armor, which was full of mottled bullet marks and a corner already showing rust from a shell hit.
One of the headlights was knocked off, whereabouts unknown, so last night they could only travel with one headlight, struggling to keep up with the main force.
The dragon emblem on the side of the tank’s hull could no longer be seen, and the black number 113 also had to be pieced together to be faintly discernible.
The flag was still draped over the engine hatch, but due to the exhaust fus, its corners had turned black, and it was full of holes.
There was no avoiding stepping on it when getting on and off the tank: It wasn’t an intentional offense, rather, it was simply unavoidable under the circumstances.
Just over two months of use had turned Tank Number 4, once brand-new at the start of its service, to a state nearly indistinguishable from scrap.
The good news was, the war that belonged to them seed to have just ended this noon. An order ca from above, leaving the mopping up work to General Tagg’s infantry; the tank corps’ fight was temporarily over.
All units were to stand by in place, waiting for the supply of fuel, ammunition, food, dicine, and the replenishnt of equipnt and personnel. All crew mbers of the armored corps were to rest in place, awaiting further notice.
Upon receiving this order, everyone started to rejoice. So began setting up temporary camps, while others prepared their lunch.
Liu Guozhu wanted to go straight to sleep; he felt he could cope with being hungry, but not sleeping might actually kill him in a short while.
The ammunition truck that followed up halted not far away, and the loader who had nearly slept thirty hours on the bouncing tank finally had work to do.
While Liu Guozhu and the others were sleeping, the chanics and loaders had to resupply the tank with 20 shells.
At the sa ti, they had to clean the gun barrel and chamber, tidy up the inside of the tank, maintain the radio equipnt, and oil the two machine guns.
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When Liu Guozhu woke up, the camp was already filled with the aroma of dinner. He wolfed down a piece of black bread tougher than kryptonite and polished off a box of tomato sauce marinated mackerel, instantly feeling as if he had co back to life.
In the distance, a group of tank soldiers gathered around an empty tin can—this was one of their forms of entertainnt.
Sitting on the roadside, taking the cool air, were vehicle crew mbers; trucks filled the road, and soldiers with rifles crowded about, creating a bustling, lively scene.
“When pear blossoms cover the ends of the earth,
The river carries a soft veil of gauze.
Ma Cuihua stands on the rugged bank,
Her singing bright as the charming spring light!
Ma Cuihua stands on the rugged bank,
Her singing bright as the charming spring light!”
Enviously watching these tank soldiers with their own vehicles and special allowances for better food, the infantry, egged on by their commanders, loudly began singing their song.
Having no choice, Tang Mo felt that the na Katyusha was too out of touch to use directly, so he just switched to this version. After all, no one in this world knew what the original was like, so it indeed felt completely natural.
The rifle-bearing soldiers sang as they watched the tank soldiers toss box after box of luncheon at into a large pot to cook, swallowing their saliva and continuing to belt out their song, a touching sight indeed.
“Hey! Brothers! Shouldn’t we also sing a song for our infantry comrades?” The company commander ca over and hollered at the scattered soldiers nearby the camp.
He clapped his hands to draw everyone’s attention: “Let’s have one! Who will start?”
“I’ll do it!” The platoon commander from the 1st platoon leaned against a tank, fixing his cap on his head, and said, “I’ll start us off, and everyone can follow along!”
“Oh!” All the tank soldiers hooted and hollered, their monotonous military lives and the oppressive atmosphere of the battlefield making these young n imrse themselves entirely in whatever little amusent ca their way.
Those who had been kicking the can stopped, and everyone looked at the platoon commander from the 1st platoon, waiting for him to start.
Amid the rising and falling chorus of “Ma Cuihua” in the distance, the 1st platoon commander softly began to sing a song all the tank soldiers knew: “My dear, if one day, I can’t return…”
“My dear, if one day I can’t return, please don’t grieve for !” Everyone joined in the singing, their voices were not loud as there weren’t as many of them as there were infantry, but the novelty quieted the infantry, who all stopped to listen to the tank soldiers’ song.
“My dear, if one day I can’t return, please don’t grieve for . Even if my soul is consud by flas no longer here, at least I will have a coffin of steel.” Tang Mo wrote these lyrics, and a composer from this world wrote the lody.
The tune wasn’t as catchy as Katyusha and was sowhat awkward, but it was still their own song, and the one they loved the most!
“My dear, if one day I can’t return, please don’t grieve for . By then my beloved tank would have turned into wreckage, but luckily I will be buried with it.” Liu Guozhu sang loudly and cheerfully as he rembered the tanks hit by shells and the blazing fires.
“I’ve touched scorching gravel and seen the whiteness of snowflakes, Great Tang’s boundary markers are my tracks. I’ve fired deadly shells and sung the most beautiful beats, not even a cheetah is as fast as !” he sang with gusto, especially that line about the boundary markers being his tracks.
He loved that line; beyond his tank lay the frontiers of the Great Tang! Wherever his tank rolled over, that land was Great Tang’s territory!
One day, his tank would roll into the Dahua Empire’s Imperial Capital, crushing those who had once scorned him, those who had tried to conquer him.
“If one day, I return in my tank, as soon as I’ve stopped the tank, I’ll go hug you tight, my love,” the 1st platoon commander finished the last line, his expression soft, with a faint smile on his face.
Along this journey, his tank, his troops, had proved to him and to the whole world just how strong they really were!
“Well sung! Another one!” On the road, the soldiers with rifles laughed out loud and shouted.
“Scram! Move out! I reckon after another three to five kiloters, you’ll be seeing Qi Country’s bayonets!” A tank soldier yelled back.
“Hahahaha!” All the infantry laughed.
“They have bayonets, we have fabric rippers!” A burly man carrying an MG-42 machine gun tapped his weapon and shouted. Instantly, there was even more laughter.
“Let’s go! We’re off to catch Qi Country prisoners!” An infantryman called back, “Hanging with you guys, we won’t catch any prisoners!”
Another infantryman, moving forward, added in self-mockery, “Following the armored troops, we starve for three out of nine als! Hahahaha!”
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