Rise of the Wasteland Chapter 1115: Sorrow
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Back to Wasteland, the smoke hasn't dispersed, but the battle situation has been fixed. Of the thousands of people in Bann, more than two thousand backbone forces are retreating, and black servants who have lost their command are chasing everywhere. There are thousands of corpses on the battlefield, but Aurora Legion is unable to pursue them, and can only clean the battlefield.
'Winter Frost' disappeared directly in front of Zhou Qingfeng. Although the Marcus beside it felt strange, it didn't say anything. Zhou Qingfeng asked it to chase the enemies, and the Mutant leader immediately burst into joy, carrying a machine gun and making a whisper, rushing forward with his men.
The power armor is broken. It ’s hard to imagine that there was a timid, scared girl who fainted at the sight of blood. She had to develop a second personality in order to survive. Zhou Qingfeng stood for a long time standing next to the armor's residual body-this world is so vast, but few people can understand him.
"Fuck, Lao Tzu was a waste wood that he couldn't even find his job. I'm afraid of a cock!" Zhou Qingfeng doesn't want to look at the power armor anymore, at most it's just people picking it up.
A person walking alone on the battlefield, Zhou Qingfeng slowly walks back to his own control area. Xiang Ming and his team were cleaning the battlefield, and saw Zhou Qingfeng showing a boulder that finally put their hearts down-the life of the 200,000 people depended on the big brother, but the big brother ran to the battlefield.
Too hateful!
Before seeing Zhou Qingfeng, Xiang Ming suffocated to say that he even wanted to scold him. But when the tired look of Zhou Qingfeng really appeared, everyone respected it aloud, and no one wanted to blame him half a sentence.
Thousands of people in Bann were killed, and the result was that Uncle Zhou cut melons and chopped vegetables. It was a legendary battle. To know that he did n’t use any high-tech weapons, airships, propeller fighters, or transport aircraft used as attack aircraft. Everything seems to be a joke.
Bann had already beaten other forces for a long time, but when he met Zhou Qingfeng, he was ashamed. This victory gave the Chinese in Angola great confidence. Especially when I learned that ‘Winter Frost’ was over, it caused a lot of joy.
It's just that others cheered, but Zhou Qingfeng was full of loneliness. Walking to the bridge where the corpses were suspended, many people were about to lay down the poles. He immediately said in a deep voice: "Stop first, get a cameraman and take pictures of the corpses."
Someone persuaded: "These dead bodies are too miserable and not very good-looking. It's better to put them down and fix them before shooting."
"Miserable? Don't be afraid of dying of death in battle." Zhou Qingfeng's's words can't be shaken. "If we really can build a Chinese nation in Africa one day, we will always show some pictures to show. Tell future generations not to think everything It ’s all in vain. Some people died to build a country. ”
"Yes, take it down." Xiang Ming also expressed affirmative support. "Not only do we have to take photos, we also have to hold funerals and grand funerals for these martyrs."
If you want to have a funeral, you really have to have a grand and grand memorial service. The momentum should be great, the scene should be great, extremely mourning. Anyone in Luanda who is not on the job must participate, and try his best to give the martyr the greatest honor.
After taking the picture, the body was put down. Wash the dirt with water, cover the wound as much as possible, and even change the body to clean clothes.
There are no ready-made coffins, only a few planks can be found and simply nailed. The body was placed in it, and Zhou Qingfeng personally carried the coffin back to the city. In the external propaganda, these martyrs who died in the abuse were sacrificed in order to resist the brutal Bann forces.
The news of the memorial service was spread on the radio, and on the way back to the coffin, people gradually gathered to send off. The compatriots who got the news came over and stood on either side. There is no white flower, no sorrow and joy, only an atmosphere of solemnity and mourning, which is depressing and touching.
At the moment, there are already thousands of Chinese in Luanda, thousands of expeditionary squads, and thousands of white women waiting to be transferred. In addition, the most are tens of thousands of blacks.
Sardin, who was recently imprisoned, was also asked to see him off. When receiving this order, Sardinians and other black people undergoing reforms dare not say anything, but they are full of arrogance-aren't they just dead? Where is Africa now and when will it not die?
If you die, bury it, you can even throw it into the wilderness, how easy! What do you want us to see off now? Also have a memorial service? Also commemorate? What are these Chinese people thinking about? It really doesn't work!
With a stomach complaint, Sardin was rushed to the stage of the memorial service. It's not enough to work hard. There is a discipline staring next to it. If you don't do it, you will criticize it.
No wreaths, no cypresses, and even no white paper for the time being. People can only find wooden boards and engrave a pair to show their hearts. The form can be simple, but sadness is not random. While Sardin was busy rushing to work, the scene of the memorial service began to gather people one after another.
"Wow, why are there so many people gathered here?" Sardin is building a wooden platform with a hammer in his hand. He looked around the temporarily selected venue and was puzzled? This is a relatively wide street, nothing special in terms of location.
There were a lot of uncleaned **** and rubble on the streets, and the people who came came to carry these obstacles by hand. Everyone was silent, only the strength to work hard.
This silent scene made Sardin dare not talk casually. Instead, he saw that the usual fierce discipline also became crying, and he was sad as if he was hungry for three days and three nights without eating.
Slowly, wait for Sardin to build the wooden platform, and several heavy artillery is drawn near the venue. Really heavy artillery! And there is no empty bag ammunition, just put live ammunition, or full charge. The sound of artillery rumbling, the ground falling like thunder, and the trembling of the black people, such as Sardinia, shivered, didn't know what to do?
Soon, in the gunfire, a slow-paced team appeared in the distance, with a simple coffin carried by everyone in front of it, and hundreds of thousands of farewell crowds behind. Sardin watched them march at a very slow pace, just a few hundred meters, and walked for more than half an hour.
On the sides of the road and in the meeting room, there were gradually cries, and many old masters were crying. Sardin bravely asked the disciples, "Why are you crying? Is your regiment leader dead?"
"Nonsense, the head of our legion is doing a good job, and the person who carried the coffin in front of him is him. It is our good brothers who died, they died for us, and we are uncomfortable." Sardinia still didn't understand.
It ’s not that the leader is dead, why are you crying like this? Sardinian did not understand. What he did not understand was how could the death of a soldier cause such a fight? The various forces in Africa have never fought such a big battle for a trivial person.
Just with the rhythm of gunfire and footsteps, the team carrying the coffin has reached the wooden platform. One after another, someone stepped forward to bow to the martyrs in the coffin. The atmosphere of reverence, sadness, and remembrance reached its climax.
As countless people stepped forward to pay tribute to the dead, the black people standing nearby as a foil were all dazed.
Sardin dreams that one day he can sit on a high platform and feel the respect and awe of others. Although he really does not understand what a few corpses have to bow, but this does not prevent him from entering the atmosphere of the scene- If it was me who accepted the bow now, how good would it be?
No, no, I do n’t want to accept this respect after being a dead person!
But ... if it can be remembered by so many people after death, it can be loved by thousands of people, and even the big men who command the millions of people and control the territory of thousands of people personally carry the coffin, which seems good!
Substituting this point, Sardin suddenly shuddered in his body, and never felt his brain pouring into him. A tingling sensation rushed straight from the tail spine to the heavenly spirit cover, as if he would have died, just as the soul was away from the body to accept the worship of everyone.
I am also a small person. If I can be admired in this way, I do n’t seem to have a life in vain. Such a lifetime should be recorded in history! Such a life is great!
Sardin burst into tears and burst into tears. When the tears flowed out, the disciples beside him saw that he was actually wiping with his hands, and asked in surprise, "Sardin, what are you crying for?"
Sardin is also unclear, he is just sad, and said with tears: "I suddenly felt that it would be good if I could die like this. But I am a black man, why am I crying?"