Chapter 562: Ancestor of the White Helmets
Guerrillas are guerrillas. A head-on firefight with the regular army would be a dead end. What's more, those they are facing are not ordinary regular troops. Their firepower is enough to easily overwhelm them even if they encounter the same number of Mexican regular troops, not to mention these ragtag guerrillas.
After the bombardment ended, Rodriguez's Rural Cavalry Patrol immediately launched an attack. At the same time, the Chihuahua City Government Army, which had already learned of the arrival of reinforcements, also understood the situation and launched a counterattack.
A man who looked like a leader, while pulling out the bullet from his gun, desperately shouted to the peasant soldier beside him who was waving a pistol and screaming wildly: "It seems that our intelligence is wrong. These lackeys of Diaz have powerful firepower and strong combat effectiveness. There may be Americans among them."
Such shouting was just a routine way of putting the blame on the northern neighbor in the hope of stirring up some national hatred and family feuds. Even the leader of this peasant army would not have thought that his casual shout was exactly the real situation. There were indeed Americans watching among Rodriguez's rural cavalry patrol, and they had just finished admiring the bombardment.
Perhaps they were inspired by patriotism, or perhaps they were well aware of the nature of the rural cavalry patrols and knew that they would have no good end if they fell into their hands. These peasant soldiers, who had only simple weapons, stood firm and fought back desperately despite the enemy's superior firepower.
The soldiers of the Rural Cavalry Patrol obviously did not expect that a group of farmers who should have been afraid would actually charge. Their forward steps paused for a moment, but only for a moment. Then the strict training they had undergone immediately showed up. Under the leadership of the officers, the soldiers quickly calmed down and began to coldly and effectively slaughter the enemies who were roaring and rushing towards them.
The soldiers knocked down the enemies who had been exposed in front of them one by one. In an instant, the guerrillas suffered heavy losses. In the short distance of 100 meters down the mountain, they caused dozens of casualties to the guerrillas. For a time, the bodies of the guerrillas almost covered the small hillside.
"These Mexicans are still very brave. If they had such spirit decades ago, they would not have lost half of their territory!" John Connor witnessed this brave scene with his own eyes through a telescope, but he did not hesitate to ridicule them. "But I have to say that the Mexican soldiers are generally good at horse riding, and can be compared with the Indian Rangers."
John Connor hid in a safe place, fulfilling his duty as a war observer, watching the Mexicans killing each other. On the other hand, the life-and-death battle between the two sides would not end just because a foreign friend was watching the fun.
The peasant army soldiers continued to advance bravely, stepping on the corpses of their comrades without hesitation. After paying a heavy price, they finally approached the firing range and were able to exchange fire with their guns. The guerrillas in the front row cheered and rushed towards the rural cavalry patrol who had no time to change magazines or reload bullets.
What greeted them were the shining sabers of the Countryside Cavalry Patrol. These were the most elite armed members of Rodriguez's army. They all had strong experience in pursuit and were good at suppressing rebels in the vast countryside. War horses were their best companions. Likewise, the saber, a weapon that seemed less advanced, was still something that these members of the Countryside Cavalry Patrol were very familiar with.
The war horses kept galloping, and many cavalrymen drew their sabers in an instant and stabbed the guerrillas closest to them in the chest without hesitation, while others chopped at the guerrillas' heads.
"You blasphemous bastards, go to hell!" Many cavalrymen brandished their swords with cruel smiles, "A bunch of hungry peasants dare to rebel against the government?"
Indeed, most of the peasant armed forces in Chihuahua were just ordinary villagers and civilians before joining the team. Only a very small number of them were trained soldiers, or failures in the military. If they had a good life, these very few soldiers would stand on the side of the government army and would not mix with a group of peasants.
Before the guerrillas could react, more than a dozen of them had already died tragically at the hands of the enemy. Seeing the chopped heads rolling on the ground, the guerrillas' enthusiasm suddenly cooled. Strength can always calm impulsive people down at critical moments.
Death is not scary, what is scary is how you die. If given a choice, everyone would choose to die of natural old age rather than run to the battlefield and risk their lives. What an evil world.
The siege of Chihuahua was lifted, and Rodriguez almost became the savior of the city. John Connor needed to do his own thing, which was not a very puzzling action, just taking some prisoners. A hundred years later in Syria, a group of people wearing white helmets did the same thing.
The slightly different thing is that, because of the different times, there is no need to smear flour on the face to pretend chemical weapons. Just take pictures of the killing process, and the cost of killing prisoners is obviously lower than flour.
"Put on your robes and bring up the Spanish head crusher?" Inside his own camp, John Connor yawned and waved his hands. Would it be inappropriate to use the Catholic torture device without a priest's robe?
"You blaspheming demons will go to hell." The captive who was dragged up saw the Spanish head crusher with his own eyes. The captive actually didn't know what it was. Even in Spain, only museums have this kind of torture device. The Spanish head crusher has disappeared from the public eye for hundreds of years.
Fortunately, Black Gold Company still has stock. There are only a few antiques like this in the whole world.
The prisoner's abuse made John Connor feel compassionate. He had been soft-hearted once before, and he said softly, "Look, now is a civilized era, we don't take pleasure in torturing people. You take a camera to record the struggle, and then shoot him in the back. We will crush the corpse's head, the effect will be the same."
The Savior's conscience awakened a little and he chose a less bloody process.
John Connor chose a less bloody method, but that didn't mean the captive who was about to have his head crushed wouldn't resist. Several members of the Black Gold Company rushed forward and kicked the captive who was kneeling in front of them hard in the face, cursing as they beat him, "You dirty pig, our manager has already given you a chance."
“Please!” The captive who was beaten badly asked several members of Black Gold to put him on torture instruments. His nose, tears and blood flowed all over the place. He begged for mercy weakly, “I want to live. Please, Qiuqiu, you guys…”
During this process, the shutter of the Kodak camera was constantly pressed. I believe the photos must be vivid and lifelike. They are real things that happened, so of course they are vivid and lifelike.
"As happy as you were when you took up guns to resist the government, you should think about how miserable you are today. The path you chose is your own." A black and gold bodyguard stood behind the head crusher and took out a revolver while speaking. With a gunshot, the prisoner was no longer alive and turned into a corpse.
Hey! John Connor licked his dry lips, nodded to the others to continue, and lit a cigarette, puffing on it, cursing and begging for mercy continued, gunshots and explosions appeared in a cycle, accompanied by the spreading smell of blood, and the cigarette suddenly lost its fragrance.
The rescue of Chihuahua City is a boost for the Mexican government, and it is something worth praising. Rodriguez has become a positive example. As for the price paid, the government does not want anyone who would destroy the environment.
At a time when there should have been celebration, reporters from the League of Nations reported on the brutal events exposed by the government forces when they were suppressing the opposition. Some Catholics used notorious medieval punishments to torture and kill poor peasants.
Once this report came out, it quickly swept across Mexico City, and soon its influence spread beyond Mexico and was known to citizens of the United States.
The Mexican government quickly stated that this was a false report and did not rule out the possibility that some foreign forces were maliciously framing their country. At the same time, it put pressure on the Associated Press that issued the report and demanded that the news agency clarify the matter.
Faced with pressure from the Diaz government, Sheffield remained very calm. He directly ordered an admission of guilt, dismissed the journalists who reported the massacre, and assured the Mexican side that similar mistakes would not be made again.
He simply surrendered to the Mexican dictator. People who knew Sheffield found it incredible.
There is nothing strange about this. They are foreigners! They have no obligation to pamper slave owners. The United Company also has a lot of business in Mexico. It is not worth it to cause trouble if they are really upset.
As for how much is morality? It is normal for Sheffield to give in to the dictator decisively. However, in the United States, detailed reports about the massacre are still circulating. Not only has it not stopped, but it is getting hotter. The promoter is still Sheffield. In the United States, he is still the powerful slave owner.
"This is such a horrific tragedy!" Sheffield flipped through the newspaper and shook his head. "It's hard to imagine that in the 20th century, there are still such barbaric things happening in Mexico. This is what war is like!"
"It seems that some public opinions are ridiculing the League of Nations for bowing to the Mexican government. Do you want to think of a solution?" Annie said with some concern, "Letting those people talk nonsense will not be good for your reputation."
"How much is reputation worth? Let those people name a price!" Sheffield said sarcastically, "Some dung collectors can say whatever they want. To put it bluntly, they are called citizens, but do they really think they are any different from the slaves of the Roman Empire?"
(End of this chapter)
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