It was the early morning of September 15th, the sixth day of the general offensive. The six days of bloody battles seemed to stretch the time infinitely, and every moment was soaked in blood and sweat. The American troops on the peaks were exhausted long ago, but the cruelty of the battle had never eased.
Zhang Fei in the command center had a solemn expression and gave a firm order to all the troops: "You must capture Xiaofeng Ridge, Chifeng Ridge and Jinji Ridge before noon tomorrow!" When the troops received this death order, it was like igniting the last fire, and they no longer had any reservations.
The First Army, in particular, threw all its forces into the battle. The smoke on the battlefield became thicker and thicker, with the sound of gunfire and shouting intertwined. The battle became more and more intense, and every minute and every second, fresh lives were forever frozen in this bloody day.
The fighting situation at the 313th position was even more tragic. Liu Dali and the brothers of the elite company were exhausted from the continuous fighting, but the fighting spirit in their eyes had never been extinguished. The brothers of the 9th Regiment had lost almost all their lives in this brutal battle.
In order to seize Hill 313, the regiment commander personally led the guard company to charge. At nine o'clock in the evening, the battle entered its most intense moment. The regiment commander led the charge and the ace company of the Ninth Regiment naturally followed closely behind without retreating.
The American troops were also making their last frantic struggle, and bullets rained down on the soldiers of the Ninth Regiment. The regiment commander shouted again and again: "Even if we have to die, we must die on Hill 313, charge!" The enemy had already locked on to the regiment commander, and dense bullets were fired specifically at him. The regiment commander was hit by a sinister bullet and fell down instantly.
The deputy regiment commander charged forward without hesitation, but was soon shot down by the enemy. The battalion commander followed suit, but also died on Hill 313.
Liu Dali, the platoon leader of the elite company, continued to lead his brothers in bloody battles. Zhang Jie followed closely behind him, his eyes full of determination. Although the enemy's attack was fierce, it gradually began to weaken under the fearless charge of the soldiers.
Liu Dali shouted: "Brothers, the enemy is holding on, charge!" However, at this moment, a bullet suddenly hit his chest. Liu Dali took a few steps and fell heavily in a pool of blood. He lay on the ground, pressing his chest, blood gushed out from the gaps between his fingers, and his fingers were instantly stained bright red.
"Platoon Leader!" Zhang Jie ran over, tears welling up in his eyes. The platoon leader was the best person to him, and seeing the platoon leader fall to the ground injured, Zhang Jie could no longer hold back and burst into tears.
Liu Dali said weakly: "If you want to cry, remember to bring back a handful of soil for you." After that, Liu Dali slowly closed his eyes and died heroically.
Zhang Jie suppressed his grief, wiped the tears from his face, picked up the platoon leader's gun, and continued to charge behind his comrades, his roar resounding through the sky: "Revenge for the platoon leader, charge!"
When the remaining brothers of the 9th Regiment launched a fierce attack on Hill 313, the heavy artillery of the American army suddenly rained down on Hill 313. The deafening roars were like the roar of hell.
The indiscriminate bombing instantly put the charging soldiers in a desperate situation, with no escape. Explosions were heard everywhere, one after another, and flames shot up into the sky, instantly turning the land into a sea of fire. The scorching air waves swept over, and shrapnel flew everywhere.
Zhang Jie charged forward with all his might, but suddenly a huge force came over him and he was thrown out under control. The world before him was spinning, and his consciousness became blurred at that moment, with no idea whether he was alive or dead.
After the terrifying explosions gradually subsided, Hill 313 was left with only a deathly silence. The originally passionate shouts of killing disappeared without a trace, and all the soldiers fell down, their bodies were mutilated and deeply buried under the earth and rocks.
The charred land was filled with pungent smoke and a strong smell of blood. Broken guns, shattered helmets, and blood-stained military flags were scattered all over the ground, as if silently telling the cruelty and tragedy of this battle.
The wind blew quietly, carrying a hint of sadness, but it blew away the breath of death that permeated the air.
At the last moment, all the officers and soldiers of the 9th Regiment fell on Hill 313, which shows how cruel this war was.
Chen Ping led the remaining Bailongyan special forces and finally arrived at the main battlefield after a day and night of arduous march.
They all looked haggard, their military uniforms had long been soaked with sweat and dust, but their eyes still gleamed with a determined light.
They didn't have time to rest, but plunged into the fierce battle without hesitation.
When they arrived at the base of Hill 313, it was pitch black all around. Deathly silence enveloped the land, and the air was filled with the suffocating smell of blood and gunpowder.
Chen Ping looked at the scene in front of him, and everyone fell silent. The scene in front of him was too tragic, with corpses piled up like a mountain, equipment that was blown to pieces scattered all over the ground, and blood staining every inch of the ground under his feet. It looked particularly eerie and terrifying under the dim moonlight.
The once vibrant warriors have now turned into cold corpses, no longer able to respond to the calls of their loved ones.
The silent silence seemed like the land groaning in pain, or like countless heroic souls speaking to Gandhi.
It is impossible to describe this scene in words. Everyone's heart felt like it was hit hard by a heavy hammer, so heavy that it was hard to breathe.
However, after a brief silence, Chen Ping gritted his teeth, suppressed his inner grief, and said in a low and powerful voice: "Brothers, take Hill 313."
"yes."
Long Yan's brothers had fire burning in their eyes, and they vowed to take Hill 313.
When the American troops on the high ground saw the Longyan Special Forces attacking, they launched a frantic attack again, and dense bullets poured down like a rainstorm.
The Longyan brothers showed no fear and charged towards the high ground under a hail of bullets. Chen Ping rushed to the front of the team, dodging the bullets nimbly.
Suddenly, a figure climbed up from the pile of corpses. His face was covered in blood and his appearance was unclear. His clothes were torn and his legs were even more horrible. A small part of his calf was blown off and blood was gushing out. But his eyes were full of grievance and fighting spirit, as if burning with raging fire.
He held the gun, leaning on his only remaining leg, and moved forward with difficulty but determination. This scene made Chen Ping extremely respectful. He rushed over without hesitation and knocked the soldier down, shouting: "Be careful, you are injured, leave this to you!"
The soldier replied in a humiliated voice: "Let me go, I will continue to fight, and I will die on Hill 313!"
Chen Ping hugged him tightly and said loudly: "Brother, you have done enough, leave the rest to us!"
The warriors struggled and screamed: "We must fight, we must avenge our brothers!"