Chapter 404: Broken Army (7)

"There must be other reasons..."
Mountbatten said this, taking off the lens from his eyes and rubbing the bridge of his nose.
"... logically speaking."
He looked down at Colonel Anthony Fask's face, hoping that the man would get rid of the indescribable gloom.
This officer looked as if he had just dipped it in the water and then dried it. A layer of oily light attached to the face of Farsk with his double chin. His officer zhìfú seemed to have been sleeping on him many times and had been sleeping Not washed.
But now is the time of war, no one cares about grooming, let alone washing and ironing, even if you are a senior officer, you have to wear the same one for a long time. Anyway, it only takes a while. Few people will pay attention to the taste again.
Just one hour after Fask completed his support mission, Mountbatten appeared in his small cramped room, carrying a bottle of wine, smiling, and the bottle was a third empty.
The general was breathing heavily, sitting in a folding chair opposite Fask.
"Father, this is how you relax now?"
Mountbatton's eyes slipped across a stack of maps that opened on the folding table beside Fask's bed. Lines of ink of different colors intersected on these maps, and neat handwritten print footnotes filled the space next to the area marked with a circle.
"Is everything okay?"
After a long pause, Mountbatten asked:
"I mean, can you stand it?"
Fask shrugged. He was very, very tired, but he didn't want to sleep. After completing the support for Yaling, he became more and more depressed.
In the past, they had studied together at the Urn Military Academy and later joined the same unit.
They were all company commanders at that time, young and full of pleasant gibberish common in soldiers' lives.
Farsker felt that it was that history that made Mount Patton treat him as a friend. The only problem was that he didn't like to talk. Never, he was a taciturn person, only thinking about the details of the war in his own mind.
He sighed and stood up, preparing to stack the maps.
Mountbatten pressed the glass on the map when the other party reached out, and some liquid spilled from the edge of the glass and began to spread on the paper.
"I'm serious, old friend, is everything okay?"
Farsk took a step back, restraining the anger almost shot from his eyes. He reached into a pocket of his military uniform, where he found a cigarette, and he turned to light the cigarette.
"I am particularly excited to be able to rest in this ghostly place in a pool of backwaters, while other guys are busy tearing it to pieces."
He sat on the folding chair and slowly exhaled a thick smoke.
"Oak’s offense was very fierce. They decided to turn that big mud pit into a battlefield. Then we decided to join the battle. My men and women suffered heavy casualties. It was in that battle. As of last night, we fought the biggest defeat, and We are still trying to beat this enemy who is famous for brutality."
He paused and nodded to himself, seeming to be satisfied with what he had just said.
"And we have no idea why they are here, or how the battle was fought, so yeah, everything is fine."
Mountbatten sat on the berth of Fask, and the glass returned to him.
"The fight doesn't need to know the answer."
He said this, took a sip, and then pointed his finger in the direction of the map.
"Ben Lear is a stupid pig. His negligence caused the Second Army to die, and the headquarters also behaved in a misbehaving manner. He ordered him to return to Cadillac, instead of taking the time to retake the Gray Mountain. If he gave up the Second Army. That’s all, but why should we send two more distant third and fifth armies to support? Fight without fighting, withdraw and without withdrawal."
"Yes."
Farsk nodded.
"If we want to win, we must be decisive."
Mountbatten shook his head, picked up the bottle and started pouring himself, and after a while he snorted and lifted the bottle towards Farsk.
Oily liquid sloshing around the walls of the wine bottle.
Farsk shook his head and Mountbatten could only mumble.
"You are really as evil as they said."
Mountbatten put down the bottle. He used both hands to hold the glass he had just filled, but did not raise it to his mouth. All the disguised humor disappeared from his face.
"The headquarters' decision made me worry."
"I probably guessed it."
Farsk nodded cautiously.
"Look, this is the case. The Yaling front is under tremendous pressure, and it even asked the Fourth Army to deploy a division to aid the Second Army. I suggested to Commander Greek that our division should go to support, but he was too cautious. Or too timid to ask us to withdraw Cadillac, leaving only a regiment to defend the mud town."
"Withdraw Cadillac?"
Farsk raised an eyebrow.
"how come?"
"All these things, about why the enemy understands our deployment, about the chaotic command of the command, and other reasons, etc. Indeed, people will talk about it afterwards, and in this place..."
Mountbatten glanced at the crowded beds, tables and chairs, and door panels between luǒlù's concrete walls.
"...We must have our own decision."
"That's why you sent us?"
Farsk stared at the floor, so Mountbatten wouldn't see the anger in his eyes.
"Do you know how bad our situation is? Ten hours of running, five hours of traveling, five hours of fighting, during which Ouke is still trying to turn our defeat into a big victory."
He stopped and nodded, his brow furrowed, as if thinking deeply.
"We almost lost our position."
Mountbatten was shaking his head, and when he sighed, pessimistic emotions were revealed.
"You know, this should have been a relaxing conversation."
Farsk nodded, trying to make his expression sensible, gentle, and calm.
"When was the last time you sat by the crater, sir?"
He asked softly, his tone calm.
"You understand, in such a place, stay with the dead and the artillery."
"I'm sorry, but we must accept this loss. Raven Ridge cannot become the second Vader, but you withstand it, a regiment, tens of thousands of enemies."
Mountbatten stood up, walked to the door, and slowly opened it.
"Your sacrifices have bought time for the Fourth Army. They are very grateful to you. Lieutenant General Hugh Drum is outside. He wants to talk to you."
"Please tell me to help him~EbookFREE.me~ I have received his respect."
After a moment, when Mountbatten left, Farsk stood up, closed the door and sat on the table, carefully, he wiped the ink stained by the spirit on the map.
Again, he stared at the lines, circles and notes.
It's not complete yet, he can only collect so much information about the encounter with Ok and their allies, but even then it still means something.
"war."
He said to himself, and reached out carefully to touch the bed and took out a wine bottle.
The liquid inside showed a honey-like golden color, which hung on the wall of the bottle when he unscrewed the stopper and filled it with a big mouth.
Farsk took a breath and took another breath, then took another big sip.
Su Yu, he nodded to himself again.
"war……"