War is inhumane, so the whitewashing work is naturally done by post-war literati and poets, while the commanders on the battlefield want victory. Without victory, there is no justice.

Red-haired Exon is not a pedantic general. He does not believe in any morality in war or the benevolence and righteousness mentioned by the Easterners. In his eyes, he can consider killing one thousand enemies and destroying himself by himself. It doesn’t matter even if he sends those eight hundred people to hell with his own hands.

The 30,000 Russian troops were fighting against more than 2,000 defenders, and there was no suspense in the outcome. If we follow the knowledge taught in the textbooks, Eksenman could steadily and use heavy cannons to knock out hard iron walnuts. There was no need to conduct infantry assaults with such a big fanfare.

It's just that he can win the final victory by spending a little more time, and he has the least casualties.

But there is always a demon in Exon's heart that is interfering with him, and there is also a hidden worry that makes him worry.

"How long can Captain Vinia stop the enemy? How much time can he buy for everyone? Although this has been carefully calculated before, all accidents on the battlefield may happen..."

"There is also the worrying situation in the Far East. Since the fleet arrived in the South China Sea, the latest information in the Far East has been very unoptimistic. The attacks of the Russian garrison by the Far East Volunteers have become increasingly fierce. Now small grain levies do not dare to leave the city at all. Sometimes, for one or two thousand kilograms of food, they have to use a battalion of troops..."

"Assassination, harassment, fire prevention, traffic damage... Until the end, a small stronghold was even captured by the enemy, and all the garrisons were killed, the dragon in the Far East was really difficult to deal with..."

Moliè, who had been watching the game, looked at Exon who kept talking to himself and frowned. He knew that the young general was under too much pressure at the moment. He thought Exon was regretting his cruel order.

"Sir! There is no need to be like this. War is going to be done with all its might. Death is a very common thing... End the battle as soon as possible so that more soldiers do not have to die. This is true kindness for a commander!"

Exon shook his head with a wry smile, "I don't have that kind of pedantic kindness. I actually want to suffer. I am obviously just the commander of this battle, but I always want to worry about the entire East Asian strategy... It seems that this is a disease and needs to be cured!"

Puff...Moliè almost choked to death with that mouthful of coffee. He thought that Exon's wife's love had an attack, but as a result, he didn't care about this little life at all. He was worried about the strategic situation of the entire East Asia and Russia.

"Damn it, this is a noble disease! This guy must have learned from a young age according to the marshal's standards, right?"

Molière was right. Axon was born and raised by the golden key. When he was a child, other children were peeing and mud. He could already sit naked on the entire Russian map with tin soldiers playing war games.

When children from poor families were dreaming of making more money in the future, they could eat potato beef every meal, Exon had already replaced Prussian legendary Chief of Staff Moltch and Iron-blooded Prime Minister Madonnaut, and wanted to replace them.

This kind of aristocratic elite educated is really excellent, but it is really not humane at all.

Exon took the bitter coffee sent by Molière and poured it in big mouthfuls, then breathed a sigh of relief, "We must end the battle before the early morning, we have to clean the battlefield for at least six hours, which means that the fleet must leave this damn island at 12 noon..."

"It's not yet time to fight Xiao Letian at sea! The first place is to unite the troops, meet first and then consider other things..."

Moliè looked at the pocket watch, "It should be no problem. It's not yet 12 o'clock, and the enemy's fortress has already made us fall into pieces. There is no problem ending the battle before the early morning!"

The artillery bombardment in the distance stopped again, and the roar of charge Ula shook the earth, and countless figures were jumping in the light and dark light. The morale of the Russian soldiers did not seem to be shaken by the commander's indiscriminate killing. On the contrary, these young men were annoyed by the increasing casualties rate. They were now eager to end the battle.

"Breakthrough! Commander, look... a corner of the enemy's position has been broken through, and it seems that our battle flag is floating..."

Molière was not wrong at all. The artillery fire cover that was not distinguished between the enemy and us just now made the sword-drawn camp lose its trace. Due to the lack of command from the commander, the entire sword-drawn camp immediately responded inappropriately. The enemy tore open the defense line with a charge, and the cruel melee combat in the trenches began again.

The earth was shaking, the sky was burning, and people were shouting wildly everywhere. After the soldiers pushed away the guard's body and drilled out of more than ten centimeters of soil, everything in front of them was hell.

His soldiers were stormed by the strong Rakshasa ghost, and the double-headed eagle flag flying on the position was so powerful that the fortress of the C characters had now become a burning torch.

No matter how unwilling Hitoro was, he had to admit at this moment that the trenches could no longer be defended, and the Fortress of C-ziku was officially fell before midnight.

"Hahaha..." Hietaro smiled like an evil ghost. He jogged all the way, regardless of the bullets flying in front of him and behind him.

"Want my position? OK, are you ready? Hahaha..."

"Be careful..." A soldier suddenly rushed out of the dark corner of the battlefield, holding Hoshitaro and dragged it to the unsinkable trenches. When he arrived at a safe place, the soldiers discovered that four or five long wounds were opened by artillery shells on Hoshitaro's back, and they were open like a baby's mouth.

"A company's troops escort the battalion commander to retreat, let's break the rest of your brothers here..."

"No..." Hitotaro grabbed the guard's arm. "I won't leave. Even if I want to leave, I have to shoot all the last bullet... Let Gatlin block the entrance of the No. 6 ammunition depot with fire. We have the last killer weapon!"

Hoedaro walked through the pile of corpses with a group of guards. The barrage of Gatlin in the distance was covering their flanks, and all the Russian troops who tried to intercept them halfway were torn to pieces.

The No. 6 ammunition depot has now been half empty. In the deepest part of the ammunition box, a huge iron box was quietly sleeping in the corner. When I pried open the iron lock, there were four jars inside that exuded a creeping murderous aura, sleeping like a little demon.

"White Phosphorus Incendiary Bomb! Our baby! This is an evil weapon that the Prime Minister strictly prohibits from using, because they are too dangerous and because they are too cruel..."

"But I just like this cruelty. Watching the enemy screaming in the phosphorus fire, this is the most beautiful scenery I have to repeat in my dreams! Haha, I thought I would use these treasures until at least two o'clock in the morning... but I can't wait!"

"We can't wait..."

Note: It's so sad! It's so sad! The keyboard was actually broken. It's a genuine cherry blue scroll imported from Germany! I want to be good at quality... It shows how cruel I am using the keyboard.
Chapter completed!