203: Chapter 203 Ice Sculpture Company
The bugle call for the charge tore through the cold wind, echoing across this white world.
Chinese Soldiers continuously leaped from the snow, charging toward the enemy below.
Some Chinese Soldiers fell after running just a few steps. As the camera zoomed in, it revealed that their legs had long since suffered necrosis from the cold; the frostbitten, purple-blue limbs were unrecognizable.
Other Chinese Soldiers had their fingers stuck to the rifle mechanism; when they tried to pull them away, they tore off their own skin and flesh.
Even so, this Chinese Soldier did not furrow his brow in the slightest and pulled the trigger without hesitation.
The machine gunner lying on the hillside was fully focused on the battle, and only after emptying his magazine...
did he discover that his feet had already frozen to the ground, and he was unable to move despite his attempts to break free.
A grenade spun in the air. The thrower's arm was still held in the arc of the throw, but the sleeve was empty.
In the distance, a severed arm lay on the snowy ground.
The frostbitten right arm had just snapped off.
US military flamethrowers swept across the trenches, melting the snow and igniting the dry grass.
Amidst the raging fire, a burning silhouette still charged forward with a bayonet.
The scene shifted; the sky had turned dusky.
At dusk, the gunfire gradually died down.
The remaining twenty-some Chinese Soldiers retreated to the main peak.
The regimental commander's roar came through the radio: "You must hold for another six hours!"
The instructor checked his watch, removed his blood-stained glasses, and said softly: "All troops, fix bayonets."
Chinese Soldiers silently complied without any hesitation.
Someone used their teeth to bite the bayonet base and rotate it, as their fingers were already too frozen to bend.
Night fell, and the wind and snow raged even more fiercely.
On a certain position, the figures froze one by one.
A machine gunner lay prone on his weapon, icicles forming on his eyelashes.
There was also a bugler who gripped his bugle tightly until death, lying in the snow with his lips frozen to the mouthpiece.
The instructor stood leaning against a rock, his stiff right hand still holding binoculars.
Seeing this scene, Wang Ye had unknowingly clenched his fists.
The audience in the livestream room felt the same.
Seeing this, they all felt a knot in their hearts.
In such extreme cold, these Chinese Soldiers were dressed so thinly.
Some even had their skin directly exposed to the elements.
These exposed patches of skin were all frostbitten and rotting.
Watching these scenes, they felt extremely distressed.
Wang Ye took a deep breath. He didn't speak, but continued watching the CG.
The next morning, the US military occupied the high ground.
These US soldiers climbed the high ground vigilantly.
When they saw the Ice Sculpture Company lying in the snowdrifts ahead, they raised their guns and opened fire on these ice sculptures.
However, after firing for a long time, they received no counterattack.
The puzzled US commander led the soldiers behind him and walked very cautiously toward these Chinese Soldiers lying in the snowdrifts.
After getting closer, they saw a scene that filled them with terror.
The entire company of officers and soldiers held their positions like statues, their gun barrels still pointed forward.
Sunlight pierced through the ice shells, refracting colorful halos on their bodies, as if they were supreme heavenly soldiers cast from glazed glass.
Seeing this, a soldier was so frightened that he fired a few shots.
The sound of the gunfire startled the group of soldiers, and they panicked, firing at these Ice Sculpture Company soldiers.
Hearing the gunfire, the commander cursed: "Shit, stop firing!"
The commander shouted a few times before the soldiers finally stopped firing.
The commander's face looked terrible.
Without a doubt, these Chinese Soldiers had long since frozen into ice sculptures.
Yet his soldiers had actually been so terrified by these motionless ice sculptures that they were at a loss and panicked.
Looking at the Ice Sculpture Company before him, the US commander waved his hand, not letting anyone get closer.
Snow suddenly began to fall from the sky.
Amidst the wind and snow, the scene moved in front of these Ice Sculpture Company soldiers, looking at their young faces or their resolute expressions.
"In this battle, the Chinese Aid-Korea Army suffered 28,954 casualties due to frostbite, with over 4,000 deaths from freezing."
"They used their lives to forge the immortal spiritual totem of the 'Ice Sculpture Company'."
The subtitles disappeared.
The CG ended here.
After finishing the CG, Wang Ye couldn't recover for a long time.
The shock this scene brought him was even greater than that of the extreme dash at Samso-ri.
The audience in the livestream room felt the same.
"The winter temperature in that place, Goryeo, is extremely low. I remember that when the temperature is at its lowest, it's normal for it to be minus thirty or forty degrees."
"Why are these Chinese Soldiers dressed so thinly? It's heartbreaking to watch them suffer in the cold."
"Sigh, perhaps it's because New Huaxia had just been founded, and conditions were difficult."
"That's right. Looking at the previous War of Resistance, the conditions were even harder; they had nothing."
"Furthermore, having just finished the fourteen-year War of Resistance, New Huaxia must have been in a state of needing reconstruction."
Wang Ye ignored the barrage comments. At this moment, he ended the CG playback and entered the game.
Wang Ye's vision went black, and he opened his eyes again.
The biting cold wind scraped across his cheeks like a knife.
"Hiss..." Wang Ye gasped, but inhaled a lungful of ice crystals.
After opening his eyes, he found himself curled up in a snow-covered trench. He was wrapped in a cotton coat as hard as sheet metal, his rubber shoes were soaked through with snow water, and every toe felt as painful as if it were being clamped by iron pliers.
His brow was tightly furrowed.
At this moment, a panel appeared in front of him.
[Battle of Chosin Reservoir (1950.11.27)]
[Identity: Soldier of the 59th Division, 20th Army, 9th Army Group, Aid-Korea Army]
[Current Temperature: -40℃]
[Estimated Survival Rate: 17%]
[Mission: Survive for five hours.]
"Damn, this is even more brutal than Samso-ri..." Wang Ye shivered, breathing on his hands to warm them; the white mist condensed into ice crystals and fell as soon as it left his mouth.
He felt like he was going to freeze into an icicle.
Although he had mentally prepared himself before entering the game, he never expected the temperature to be this low.
It was incomparably colder than it had been at Samso-ri.
In front of the trench, a Chinese Soldier was using a bayonet to pry open a frozen-hard can.
He looked up at Wang Ye, and the scar on his face, covered in frost, suddenly cracked open.
"Newbie? Try pulling the bolt back."
Wang Ye grabbed the rifle at his feet. As soon as his fingers touched the metal, he heard a soft "hiss" sound.
Then he discovered that his hand seemed to be stuck to the gun. Wang Ye was instantly dumbfounded.
He looked at the Chinese Soldier, his eyes seemingly saying: Are you setting me up?
"Rub it with snow!" The Chinese Soldier threw a handful of snow over. "When the American devil's tanks come later, you can't exactly use your teeth to fight them."
At this moment, a few dry laughs rang out in the trench.
Wang Ye turned his head and saw it was a few Chinese Soldiers.
One Chinese Soldier had bandages wrapped around his ears, the cloth already frozen into a blood clot.
There was another Chinese Soldier who was chewing on something to eat.
They had just noticed Wang Ye's actions and immediately started laughing.
"Squad leader, stop teasing the kid," the Chinese Soldier who was eating said with a laugh, some ice crystals still remaining at the corners of his mouth.
At this moment, the roar of an engine suddenly came from the distance.
"Prepare for battle!" The squad leader's roar was slightly hoarse.
Hearing this, Wang Ye immediately stood up and grabbed the edge of the trench to look out.