Lin Wanjun seriously suspected that Song Zhanjin did it on purpose.
The camp bed was broken, and it was so broken that it made people think of something bad. Originally, he could just quietly change the bed, but this bastard wanted to let the whole world know that the bed was broken.
"Lao Liao, I just accidentally broke the bed in my wife's dormitory."
From a distance, Song Zhanjin greeted Director Liao of the Logistics Department with such a loud voice that Lin Wanjun almost fell down.
"Keep your fucking voice down! Is this some kind of honorable thing to do?"
Lin Wanjun howled in anger and twisted Song Zhanjin's waist again and again.
You damn man, you're going to the front line soon, but I have to stay here for a long time. Don't I want to be a human being?
"Isn't this an honor? Ask Lao Liao, how many of the cots in our entire army have broken down? Are we the only one?"
Song Zhanjin put his hands on his hips, feeling very proud of himself.
He wanted to let the whole world know that he was the best, so good that he even broke the camp bed.
Director Liao was overjoyed and said, "Our camp beds are supposed to be able to withstand a weight of 300 kilograms. Even the strongest soldier in the army wouldn't collapse under the weight. Zhan Jin is right. You're the first."
Well, he's been through this too, and he knows what kind of situation it is where the fire is boiling.
Although the probability of a camp bed being broken is very small, the chance of a double bed in the military dormitory being broken is quite high.
Understand! He understands everything!
Director Liao waved his hand and said, "Special matters will be handled specially. I'll replace the bed in Dr. Xiaolin's dormitory with a sturdy one. As long as you two don't toss and turn too hard, I guarantee it won't collapse."
Song Zhanjin smiled and patted Director Liao on the shoulder.
"The one who knows me best is Lao Liao. When we get back to North City, I'll treat you to a drink."
Immediately, Director Liao called a few soldiers to carry out one of the few wooden beds in the warehouse, assembled it as quickly as possible, and placed it in Lin Wanjun's dormitory.
It is not only sturdy, but also very spacious, taking up almost all the space in the tent.
Lin Wanjun was wailing in her heart and didn't even dare to look up. It was so embarrassing!
After all the hassle, it was already past three in the morning.
There were still more than two hours before Song Zhanjin was to leave, and they did not show any more affection.
In other words, Lin Wanjun firmly rejected any intimate behavior from Song Zhanjin. Does she still have any shame?
The two entered the space, Song Zhanjin greeted Old Man Song Xiu, and described the battle situation on the front line in detail.
These are military secrets and should not be told to outsiders, but Old Man Song Xiu is in a space and cannot get out, let alone leaking the secrets.
Of course, the old man's ideological awareness would not allow him to leak secrets.
"Master, this high ground has become a tough nut to crack. We organized three assaults, but all failed."
When Song Zhanjin mentioned the war, there was a hint of sternness between his brows, and he no longer had the previous playful and frivolous look.
"Wang Che and his men were injured while seizing the high ground. Less than 20% of a platoon of soldiers made it back alive."
And these 20% of survivors are also scarred.
Song Xiu frowned and looked at the topographic map. After a long silence, he suddenly raised his head.
"If an open attack doesn't work, then a covert one? As the saying goes, 'building a plank road in the open while secretly attacking Chencang,' do you understand what I mean?"
Song Zhanjin was stunned.
Old Master Song Xiu said, "Look, our nearest position is less than a kilometer away from this high ground. Digging a tunnel shouldn't be a problem..."
Digging a tunnel?
Song Zhanjin was a little confused. Will this work?
"Just tell your father my suggestion and let him make the decision. Humph, if he doesn't understand what I mean, then he's no use being a commander!"
Song Xiu was very arrogant and didn't explain much. He just drew a few lines on the map, made some simple annotations, and then threw the map to Song Zhanjin.
"Take it back and show it to my grandson!"
This was a bit strange, but the fact was that Song Xiu was indeed Song Mingcheng's grandfather, even though he looked much younger than Song Mingcheng...
As dawn was about to break, Song Zhanjin took the map with Mr. Song Xiu's annotations and boarded the truck back to the front line.
He looked at Lin Wanjun tenderly and touched her face.
"Saving people is important, but you also have to protect yourself. I'll come see you as soon as I have time."
Amid the rumbling sound of the truck, Song Zhanjin gradually disappeared into the fog.
Lin Wanjun felt a little empty in her heart, but she had no time to be sad because a new batch of wounded soldiers had arrived.
The wounded were still covered in bloody war wounds, with either arms or legs missing, but no one cried out in pain, and no one shed a tear.
The patient Lin Wanjun treated was a young soldier who was only seventeen years old.
His belly was cut by shrapnel. His comrades tied his belly tightly with belts and sent him to the field hospital while he was dying.
As soon as Lin Wanjun unbuckled his belt, the little soldier's intestines flowed out.
The situation was too serious, so Lin Wanjun called Zhao Yajun for help. When Zhao Yajun saw this situation, his face changed slightly.
He whispered the truth to Lin Wanjun behind the little soldier's back.
"He has severe damage to multiple organs. There is little hope."
Lin Wanjun was somewhat bewildered and unwilling. She rasped, "But he's still alive. He made it all the way from the front lines to here, and he's still breathing!"
He persisted for so long, how could they, as doctors, not be able to save him?
Zhao Yajun saw Lin Wanjun's red eyes, sighed and patted her shoulder gently.
"Xiao Lin, you're also a doctor. You should know that we're not gods. In the face of death, a doctor's power is actually insignificant."
There were still more wounded people waiting for treatment. Zhao Yajun was heartbroken but decisively chose to give up and turned to the treatment operations for other wounded people.
"Doctor, you are so beautiful, just like my sister."
At some point, the little soldier woke up.
He seemed to feel no pain, grinning and laughing, his dark face looking childish and simple.
"My parents died young, and my sister raised me. I cried a lot as a child, and she slapped me a lot. The day I left home to join the army, I almost cried again, and she slapped me."
"She told me that once I put on the uniform, I was a soldier and I couldn't cry anymore. I couldn't let her down or bring shame to the army."
The young soldier held Lin Wanjun's hand, his eyes slightly misty but the tears never fell.
"Sister, I really didn't cry this time. I always remember what you said: a man sweats and bleeds, but doesn't shed tears. I am very brave and strong."
Tears welled up in Lin Wanjun's eyes.
She looked at the little soldier's gradually dull eyes, felt his gradually cooling body temperature, and her voice trembled violently.
"I know, I know you are the bravest. You are my pride and the pride of the army."
Hearing this, the little soldier grinned with satisfaction.
He stared into space with a distracted look and murmured, "Sister, I saw our father and mother. They were smiling at me and said they wanted to take me home."
"Sister, I'm leaving."
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