It was supposed to be a casual game, but the Long March dungeon brought tears to everyone's eye

A few days later, behind the earthen slope on the banks of the Yalu River, the Third Squad was building air-raid shelters and communication trenches.

On the riverbank, several local women rolled up their trousers and squatted in the shallow water to wash clothes.

Further away in the puddle, several teenagers, naked, splashed water at each other and played, their laughter drifting intermittently into the hidden position on the river breeze.

Ruan Ruan was tidying up the gauze in the first aid kit when she looked in the direction of the laughter.

A little girl of four or five years old was chasing after small fish splashing in the shallows, her face full of laughter.

Ruan Ruan looked at her for a while, and just as a slight smile appeared on her lips, a sharp air raid siren suddenly sounded.

Three U.S. warplanes painted with white stars rushed in from the opposite side of the river.

Under the direction of their respective classes, everyone immediately took cover.

Hawkeye crouched on the side of the trench, peering out. His expression changed drastically when he saw the direction the machine guns under the wings of the American fighter jets were pointing.

As the American warplanes swooped down, their gun barrels were aimed directly at the women and children on the riverbank, and they spat fire without mercy!

Mud and sand surged into the air, repeatedly interrupting the figure of a woman pulling her child towards the shore.

Their screams were barely out of their throats before they were drowned out by the sound of the engine.

"Run!"

Squad Leader Shi lay prone behind the sandbags, his eyes red as he shouted towards the riverbank.

But the people on the riverbank didn't have time to run far.

The US fighter jet pulled up, then made a turn in mid-air, and several auxiliary fuel tanks detached from under the wings.

After the fuel tank was smashed, it spread along the shallow water and wet sand, forming a shiny oil film.

Then the machine gun swept across the river, and flames shot up from the oil slick.

Orange-red flames rolled outwards along the riverbank, and waves of heat, carrying the smell of burning, rushed towards the front lines.

Several soldiers who were nearby instinctively raised their arms to cover their faces.

The nearest anti-aircraft artillery position on the shore finally opened fire.

"Anti-aircraft company, open fire!"

The gunners, shirtless, frantically shook the cannons under the scorching sun, and the sounds of the cannons quickly merged into one, continuously exploding into black smoke clouds in the sky.

There were too few anti-aircraft guns close to the riverbank, and the US fighter jets were pulling up and turning at high speed, leaving most of the shells behind them.

The Third Company in the position was even more powerless to act.

Not only would you miss the target with a gun, but firing at it would also expose your position. Whether you fire or not, it makes them panic.

They could only watch helplessly as the US warplanes launched a surprise attack and then swaggered away.

The roar of the airplane engines gradually faded into the distance.

The oil film on the riverbank was still burning, and the shallow water was gurgling from the heat.

Black smoke, carrying the smell of burning, shot into the sky, and the echoes of the air raid siren still reverberated in the distance.

Ruan Ruan was the first to climb out of the trench and rush down the slope towards the location where the women who had been washing clothes had been.

Crazy Brother and the old squad leader followed closely behind.

The dead trees on the steep slope were still burning, but Kuang Ge and his gang kicked them away.

Kuang Ge and the old squad leader stood in front of Ruan Ruan, blocking the hot wind and dust that were blowing in their faces.

The laughter on the riverbank has ceased, leaving only a few scattered flames flickering by the water.

He slid softly into the mud and sand, reaching out with both hands to touch the side of a woman's neck; there was no pulse.

The woman's back was riddled with bullets from an aircraft machine gun, the wounds tearing all the way down to her shoulder blades, turning the shallow water red.

But her arms were still protecting her in front of her.

Ruanruan pried open those stiff hands and saw a little girl covered in blood curled up inside.

"He's still breathing!"

Ruan Ruan quickly checked the child's breath and then examined the wounds on his shoulder and arm.

"The injuries were to the arm and shoulder; they didn't hit any vital organs."

"Crazy Bro, Hawkeye, lend a hand, don't touch her wound!"

"They're here!"

Kuang Ge immediately squatted down, took off his coat, and spread it on the muddy ground.

Ruan Ruan picked up the little girl, tore open the bandage and pressed it against the bleeding area, her movements quick and steady.

Kuang Ge squatted down beside him, looking at the bodies of his mother lying in the shallow water, his Adam's apple bobbing a few times.

These damned US warplanes didn't actually discover the hidden positions that the Third Company was building; they just came to the Chinese border to swagger around and cause trouble for no reason.

This was even more abhorrent than the US warplanes bombing the Andong region that they had seen on the sand table!

The old squad leader then walked to the woman's side, squatted down, and closed her eyes for her.

He paused for a moment on the blood-stained face before speaking.

"Take care."

The river breeze carried the old squad leader's voice.

"We've noted this debt."

For some things, all they see on the sand table are maps and text descriptions.

But in reality, it's truly distressing...

The soldiers of the Third Company rushed out of their bunkers one after another.

They looked at the river stained red with blood, and at the little girl crying in Ruan Ruan's arms, and no one spoke.

The young soldier, who had been talking about going back to his hometown in Henan to get married just a few days ago, looked down at the soil from his hometown that he had taken out.

He had crushed the clod of soil into tiny pieces, which fell through his fingers.

The company commander of the third company stood at the front of the ranks, his fists clenching and unclenching repeatedly.

He suddenly raised his hand and pointed to the opposite bank, then to the bodies of his fellow villagers on the ground.

"Did you all see that clearly? They've dropped bombs right into our house! They're not even sparing unarmed civilians!"

"If we can tolerate this, then we don't deserve these clothes!"

The soldiers around them, who were all longing for home, raised their heads.

They finally understood why, after fighting for so many years, they hadn't even had time to go home and visit their families.

They survived the War of Resistance against Japan and the War of Liberation. The peace they finally achieved was not something they could just give up because the enemy's bayonets were at their doorstep.

What's the point of them going home if no one is guarding their doors?