diymy Chapter 746 Fight. Fight until the British kneel down.
Chapter 746 Fight. Fight until the British kneel down.
February 14th, northern Sinai Peninsula.
Liu Zhenjie, commander of the 7th Division, stood atop a truck, peering through binoculars at the endless sand dunes ahead. Behind him, 18,000 men were advancing at full speed. If there weren't enough trucks, they walked. If there was too much ammunition, they lightened their load. Blisters covered everyone's feet, but no one stopped.
Chief of Staff Zhang Haiyang ran over, panting.
"Commander, a scout reports that Arish is 30 kilometers ahead."
Liu Zhenjie put down his binoculars and looked at the map.
Arish, a small town on the eastern coast of the Mediterranean. From there, turn south and travel two hundred kilometers along the coastline to Gnaye—on the eastern bank of the Suez Canal, the British's rear route.
"Tell the brothers to keep pushing. Get to Arish before dark."
Zhang Haiyang was taken aback: "Commander, the brothers have been running for a day and a night. If we keep running, some of them will die of exhaustion."
Liu Zhenjie looked at him and remained silent for three seconds.
"We have to run, even if it kills us. Every day we're late, the British get an extra day to run. By the time they get back to the canal, all our efforts will have been for nothing."
Zhang Haiyang gritted his teeth and nodded.
The order was passed down, and the team moved even faster.
A soldier was running when he suddenly collapsed to the ground. His comrades nearby immediately stopped and helped him up.
"What's wrong? What's wrong?"
The soldier was deathly pale, his lips were purple, and he was panting heavily.
"Water...give me water..."
His comrade quickly took off his water bottle and handed it to him. He took it and gulped down several mouthfuls, and his complexion improved slightly.
"Can you get up?"
He nodded and struggled to his feet.
"Walk."
Keep running.
At 3 p.m., the advance team arrived in Arish.
Liu Zhenjie stood on the sand dunes outside the city, looking at the small town. Earth-yellow houses, low city walls, and a few palm trees swaying in the wind. At the city gate, several locals were selling goods; upon seeing the approaching army in the distance, they abandoned their stalls and ran away in fright.
"Pass down the order: do not enter the city; bypass it and leave."
The group bypassed Arish and continued south.
Zhang Haiyang ran over and handed him the water bottle.
"Commander, have some water. You haven't had a drop since this morning."
Liu Zhenjie took the water bottle, took a big gulp, and wiped his mouth.
"How are the brothers?"
"More than thirty more collapsed. They were all exhausted."
Liu Zhenjie remained silent for a few seconds.
"Leave a few people behind to take care of them. Once they recover, they can gradually catch up. The main force cannot stop."
Zhang Haiyang nodded.
"Tell the brothers that in two more days we will reach Gennaye. When we reach Gennaye, we will be able to rest."
Zhang Haiyang turned around and went to relay the order.
Looking at the soldiers marching, Liu Zhenjie suddenly felt a pang of heartache.
Eighteen thousand people ran for three days and three nights, covering 300 kilometers. Some collapsed from exhaustion, some fell behind, and some collapsed along the way and never got up again.
But no one complained, and no one stopped.
Because they knew that the place they were going to was the place where victory or defeat would be decided.
At 6 p.m., the team stopped to rest by a dry riverbed.
The soldiers lay on the sand, panting heavily. Some took out their dry rations and ate them with water. Some leaned against their backpacks, closed their eyes, and fell asleep. Some took off their shoes; their soles were covered in blisters. They pricked them with their bayonets, squeezed out the pus and blood, and then bandaged them up.
A young soldier leaned against a rock, looking at the first star to light up in the sky.
The veteran next to him asked, "Kid, what are you thinking about?"
The young soldier whispered, "I miss home."
The veteran remained silent for three seconds.
"I want to too."
The young soldier turned his head and looked at him.
"Squad leader, do you think we can get back alive?"
The veteran lit a cigarette and took a deep drag.
"Yes. As long as we finish this battle, we can."
Liu Zhenjie's voice came from afar: "Assemble! Prepare to depart!"
The soldiers got up, brushed the sand off their bodies, and continued forward.
In the darkness of night, eighteen thousand people walked silently, their footsteps rustling like countless feet treading on the sand.
At dawn on February 15th, the team was still 50 kilometers away from Gennaye.
Liu Zhenjie ordered them to rest on the spot for two hours. Two hours was enough for the soldiers to sleep, eat something, and recover some strength.
He leaned against a rock, his eyes closed, but he wasn't asleep.
He was thinking about something.
What are the British doing now? Will Allenby continue his pursuit? And what about Zhao Dengyu's side? Are they ready?
he does not know.
But he knew that no matter what, the 7th Division had to get to Gennaye.
Reaching Gnaye is a victory.
Once they reached Gnaye, the 400,000 British would have nowhere to run.
February 15th, 9:00 AM, Gennaye.
Liu Zhenjie stood on a high ground, holding up binoculars and looking at the canal that was faintly visible in the distance.
Three days and three nights, 18,000 people, ran 350 kilometers.
Some people died from exhaustion, some fell behind, but the main force is still there.
Through the telescope, the Suez Canal appears as a thin blue line, stretching between the desert and the oasis. To the north lies the Mediterranean Sea, to the south the Red Sea, to the west Egypt, and to the east the Sinai Peninsula.
Gnaye, located on the east bank of the canal, was the only route the British could take during their retreat.
Chief of Staff Zhang Haiyang ran over, his face full of excitement.
"Commander! Scouts report that there are no British troops in Gennaye! It's an empty city!"
Liu Zhenjie put down his binoculars and took a deep breath.
"it is good."
He turned to look at the troops behind him. Eighteen thousand men, scattered among the sand dunes, were resting. Some were drinking water, some were eating, and some were sleeping on the ground. They were all too tired to even speak.
"Order all troops to enter the city. Occupy all key positions. Set up machine guns and establish defensive lines."
Zhang Haiyang nodded: "Yes!"
Liu Zhenjie called him back again.
"Wait. Send a telegram to Commander Zhao."
Zhang Haiyang took out paper and pen.
Liu Zhenjie paused for three seconds, then said:
"Arrived in Gennaye. The dumplings are ready."
At 10:00 AM, in the heart of the Sinai Peninsula, at Zhao Dengyu's command post.
A telegram lay before him. It contained only three words:
"Arrived in Gnaye."
Zhao Dengyu read it three times.
Then he looked up at the staff officers who were waiting for orders.
"Order all units to halt the retreat."
The staff officers were stunned.
"Commander?"
Zhao Dengyu stood up and walked to the map. He placed his hand on the location of Gennaye, then drew a line all the way to the location of the pursuing British troops.
Where are the British now?
An officer pointed to the map: "They're about 150 kilometers away. They're advancing slowly."
Zhao Dengyu nodded.
"One hundred and fifty kilometers. The British have been chasing us for three days, covering three hundred kilometers. Now they are tired, slowing down, and their formation has broken. And our 7th Division has outflanked them."
He turned and looked at the staff officers.
"What do you call this?"
One of the staff officers blurted out, "Make dumplings."
Zhao Dengyu smiled.
"Yes. Making dumplings. Dumplings for 400,000 people."
He picked up the phone and connected with each division.
"Issue my order: All troops turn around and prepare for a counterattack. Tanks in front, infantry following, artillery cover. The target is—the British."
A cheer came from the other end of the phone.
"Commander, shall we attack?"
Zhao Dengyu's voice was calm, but every word was like a nail driven into a wooden board.
"Fight. Fight until the British kneel down."