Hayes still remembered what happened when he occupied this temporary camp with tracks. Those people used this place as a small stronghold. The 2nd Company of the First Battalion first attacked here. At that time, some rebels did not withdraw and finally surrendered to the 2nd Company.
But when Hayes and the others arrived, there was already thick smoke here. It turned out that those who surrendered had hidden weapons. When the people of the Second Company relaxed, they suddenly launched a riot, killing more than a dozen soldiers. In response, a few minutes later, the Second Company quickly fought back with a bayonet, fired, and used a flamethrower.
Hayes still remembers the screams and crying, everyone screaming like crazy, and the tents made of houses in the fire crackled.
The political commissar tried to stop this destruction, but it was useless. The people of the second company seemed to be possessed, and they were furious and destroyed whatever they saw.
It was not until half an hour later that it finally calmed down. At this moment, only piles of smoked ashes were left. At that time, Hays suddenly realized that this destruction was not just a crazy move in the smoke of war, but also a catharsis under tremendous pressure.
There is no need for political commissar or pastor to promote it, everyone has already learned to hate.
This place is very busy now, with disinfectant and various kinds of medicines filled the air.
Although he is very physically and looks scary, Habrey is actually afraid of getting an injection, so Hather wants to take him to the field hospital himself.
It is said to be a hospital, but it is actually just a few simple tents.
Before he could walk in, Hayes heard the rusty axle screaming protest, and he turned to see a man leading four hunchbacked servants, all wrapped in tattered casual clothes, pushing an empty cart through the frozen ground towards him.
The cart passed by him, stopped beside the corpse, and began to carry the corpse tiredly into the car.
Suddenly, Hayes ran towards them.
"Wait a moment!"
The man seemed to be startled, as if he was afraid that he would hurt himself, so he walked away in a hurry and stopped working.
Hayes stood beside a pile of corpses, staring down at a corpse, and the man saw his face clearly and then spoke to him, his voice becoming dull and lifeless due to fatigue.
"Do you know him?"
"Yes, I know him, a friend."
It was the body of Larry Haggie, a 21-year-old young man and one of the few people in the company who knows music. He always carries an organ on his body, and Hays has also learned from him.
According to Haji himself, his family was once a musical family serving the nobles of Shangchao, but it seemed that in his great-grandfather's generation, he was punished and confiscated almost all his property because of a concert, and only some musical skills were left. After that, their family kept making a living by selling skills on the street. Unfortunately, even those musical skills were left in Haji's generation. When his father died unexpectedly in a street fight, he also ruined the violin he passed down.
Haji's biggest dream is to make enough money, then go to a small music school to study, or enter the national choir to regain his identity as an ancestor musician.
But now this ideal person is just lying quietly in the shroud, his face loose and pale, his body covered with horrifying wounds, his eyes staring as if he was looking at something.
Haji once taught Hayes a song, but he hasn't finished it yet, but now this hope is shattered.
Looking down at Haji's face, Hayes became increasingly tired of the war, and in this place it seemed that everyone must be dominated by the cruelty and madness of randomness.
"He's a hero."
The man next to him suddenly spoke.
"A hero?"
Unsure of the other party's meaning, Hays looked at him in confusion.
For a moment, the man's eyes were dull and tired and unable to understand, and then he silently withdrew his gaze.
He shrugged tiredly and spoke again.
"They are heroes."
The person who transported the corpse said in a listless voice, as if he was reciting the speech he had heard a thousand times.
"They are: all the Astral Army who died here, they are martyrs, who defend this place by giving their blood, and they make the soil of this world a holy land, and heresy will never occupy it, and this place will always belong to the Emperor."
After a pause, he added another sentence.
"This is what the political commissar told us."
But it was completely unconvincing in Hayes's ears.
"Yeah...."
The boy squatted down and groped on Haji for a while. Sure enough, he found a brass harmonica in the storage bag on his waist. It was lucky that it was not taken away.
Haji said that if one day he died, he hoped that Hayes could take his harmonica, and he did not want this thing to be burned, buried, or fall into the hands of some greedy and boring person to replace it with a few cigarettes.
Then the servants began to carry the bodies, and Hayes stood aside, watching Haji stacking with others, those soulless things seemed to have no idea what respect for the dead, but just moved them like cargo.
Hayes heard that these servants were made of rebels, and he was not very sure. In short, he would avoid looking at these things carefully, and he was deeply afraid.
Soon the bodies were loaded with flatbed trolleys and they began to leave here.
"What do you want to do with them?"
Suddenly, Hayes shouted behind them, not sure if he wanted to know the answer.
“They will be buried.”
The man's tired answer.
"The hero should have been like this, buried in a collective cemetery, and there will be a monument, at least that's what they told me, I'm just transporting the bodies and others are responsible for their disposal."
After saying that, he turned around and continued to push the flatbed with the servants panting.
As they watched them leave, Hays slowly tried to remember some of the prayers taught by the neighborhood priests as children, or a prayer, to keep the dead souls of his comrades away from disturbance and to join the emperor in heaven and the throne.
But for some reason, his mind was blank, and his heart was uncomfortable with sadness, feeling dull and empty.
All prayers seemed to escape from his brain.
Then he turned to the field hospital.
"Take off your armor and pull down your coat."
He heard a voice, and then saw the furry Habrey sitting "behavedly" on a small stool trembling, and a man about fifty years old with a white mesh on his shoulder with a medic soldier's white armband standing beside him.
This man is called Gotabilon, and he is a military doctor in the regiment, but Hashet said that this guy was probably just a veterinarian in the past.
There are also several active medical servants around him, but ordinary soldiers are not very willing to receive their treatment, and at most they can help with the trauma.
"Habry, if you want me to treat that wound, I have to be able to see it."
"I--"
Habrey shivered and then looked at Hayes.
"You want an injection?"
Chapter completed!