"The higher-ups can't get the medicine out of us, and they won't let us buy the medicine ourselves to save our lives. What kind of logic is that?"

...

The soldiers grew angrier and angrier as they spoke.

"Comrades, let's give up on treatment."

A man got up from his hospital bed, his face full of anger, and shouted: "I never knew I had fought so many victories for the country, escaped death more than a dozen times, and now that I'm alive and covered in wounds, there's medicine I can't use!"

His grandmother's bear, for some regulations, for some medicine that didn't come from official channels, used this utterly absurd reason to let hundreds of wounded soldiers suffer and die.

"If you've got the guts, shoot me dead today. Otherwise, I'll crawl all the way to Beijing and ask our old leader whether our soldiers' lives are more important, or those damn rules and regulations."

"I'm going too."

Another soldier shouted angrily, "Why are you keeping the medicine for our wounded soldiers instead of giving it to us? What kind of logic is this?"

The crowd's anger was reignited.

Those soldiers who were still able to move freely got out of their hospital beds.

Regardless of the extent of their wounds, they all wanted to seek justice for themselves and their soldiers.

What are you doing?

Leader Jiang roared, his eyes like swords, sweeping over the soldiers with a stern expression, exuding authority without anger.

He sternly rebuked the crowd, "Do you all have any discipline? You cause trouble at the drop of a hat. Who trained you all?"

"Bullshit!"

Seeing that he was still putting on airs of a leader, the middle-aged soldier could no longer hold back and shouted: "I've been fighting with Chairman Mao's troops since I was eight years old. If you're so capable, go complain to my old leader."

"You bunch of useless sons of bitches, utterly incompetent in battle, yet you act like all high and mighty officials. Today, I'm not going to give you any face. If you've got the guts, shoot me!"