Chapter 294: Nothing Surprises Me Anymore
Li Yunlong was stunned for a moment. He pointed with his finger at the endless convoy of trucks, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, seemingly somewhat unable to believe his own ears.
After hesitating for a few seconds, he asked again: “You mean, you’re going to use trucks to send us to Taiyuan?”
“Yes!”
Zhang YouShan’s tone was very affirmative, carrying an unquestionable confidence.
“Great!”
Li Yunlong slapped his thigh hard with a smack, producing a crisp “smack” sound.
He excitedly grabbed the arm of Zhao Gang beside him, his face flushed with excitement: “Old Zhao, did you hear that? With trucks, we won’t have to rely on our two legs to walk to Taiyuan anymore, and these four wheels are much faster than our two legs!”
“That’s for sure.”
Zhao Gang was also shocked by Su Yaoyang’s grand gesture, but he showed it more restrainedly, just smiling and nodding. What he saw was not only speed, but also the powerful mechanized strength represented by the Shanxi Militia behind it.
“Then what are we waiting for? Get the soldiers on the trucks quickly.”
Li Yunlong was hot-tempered and didn’t want to waste even a second.
He shouted at his throat to Zhang Dabiao not far away: “Zhang Dabiao… what the hell are you standing there for? Hurry up, notify your troops to assemble, damn it, line up for me and get on the trucks! Whoever dawdles, I’ll kick his ass!”
As soon as the order was given, the entire Independent Regiment instantly boiled over. The soldiers burst into earth-shaking cheers, sweeping away their earlier fatigue.
They excitedly rushed toward those steel behemoths, some curiously touching the cool bodywork and tapping the thick tires, their faces beaming with childlike joy.
Under the scolding and organization of officers at all levels, the soldiers shouldered their rifles and ammo crates, climbing one by one into the spacious truck beds. The whole scene was noisy yet orderly…
Night fell, and the massive truck convoy snaked forward like a steel dragon on the rugged North China dirt road.
Headlights pierced the darkness, illuminating the undulating road ahead and the dust billowing into the sky.
From Wuta County to Taiyuan, the whole journey was about four hundred li.
At the start, the convoy traveled on the flat concrete road ordered built by Su Yaoyang, and the soldiers were still high-spirited, clinging to the truck sides, novelty watching the scenery speed by in reverse, enjoying unprecedented high-speed mobility.
However, after the convoy passed the boundary marker of Xiangding County, the flat wide concrete road abruptly ended, replaced by a dirt road pitted and rutted by ox carts and artillery wagons.
Comfort instantly turned into torment.
The entire truck bed was like a sieve being wildly shaken by an invisible giant hand, each bump hurling the soldiers inside high into the air before slamming them back down.
The chassis groaned under the strain, and the truck bed immediately filled with suppressed groans and low curses.
Many Eighth Route Army soldiers who had never had this “experience” before felt their stomachs churning, their faces turning ashen yellow like their uniforms.
Some could no longer hold back, clutching the truck sides desperately and spewing out their dinner in a messy splatter.
At the rear of one of the trucks, Independent Regiment Commander Li Yunlong was undergoing one of the toughest tests of his military career.
“Old Li… are you okay? If not, go sit in the front cab.”
Zhao Gang steadied himself against the rocking truck bed and leaned toward Li Yunlong, who was slumped over the rear railing, advising him worriedly.
At this moment, Li Yunlong’s usually ruddy, thunderous face was as white as a sheet.
“I… I can handle it… urp…”
Li Yunlong tried to put on a brave front with some tough words, but a surge of nausea rushed straight to his throat. He could hold back no longer and abruptly twisted his head away.
With a “wah,” he vomited out the last of the acid water and bile from his stomach, trailing a thin line through the dust kicked up behind the truck.
Looking at his gasping, doubled-over partner who couldn’t even straighten his waist, Zhao Gang felt both exasperated and amused.
He never imagined that Li Yunlong, who was usually full of vigor on the battlefield and built like a bull, would get carsick in such a pathetic state.
At the start, on the concrete road, the guy had been smugly bragging that the militia’s trucks were better than the Japanese devils’.
But as soon as they left Xiangding County and hit this bumpy dirt road, the carsickness hit him immediately.
And yet the guy insisted on saving face and suffering, styling it as revolutionary spirit, giving the relatively stable cab seat to a motion-sick young soldier and coming to the bumpiest rear to “enjoy” it himself.
As a result, not even half an hour later, he honorably transformed into a “puke trooper,” giving back everything he’d eaten that day to Shanxi’s yellow earth.
On the issue of carsickness, Zhao Gang had earlier specifically asked the militia driver.
The dark, sturdy driver master grinned while skillfully handling the steering wheel, telling him there was really no good way to deal with it—it was purely down to personal constitution, having nothing to do with how strong one’s body was.
The only solution was to ride more; once the body got used to the jolting, things would naturally improve bit by bit—no other way.
Looking at Li Yunlong slumped at the rear vomiting with a sallow face, and the other few soldiers crammed around the rear railing with equally queasy looks, Zhao Gang shook his head helplessly, feeling both exasperated and amused inside.
It seemed this mechanized march had its pros and cons.
The advantage was speed, the disadvantage was… it cost the regiment commander.
But it really was astonishingly fast.
Zhao Gang glanced at his wristwatch, silently calculating in his mind. If the Independent Regiment had marched on foot to the Taiyuan front, even rushing day and night, it would have taken at least three or four days.
But riding these tireless steel behemoths, they had arrived at the outskirts of Taiyuan in just a short six or seven hours.
Through the gaps in the truck bed, he could already vaguely see flickering lights ahead—that was the Shanxi Militia’s forward positions.
Around 9:30 that night, after a slowing series of bumps, the massive convoy finally rolled slowly into a place called Zhanyang Town.
This was clearly already a heavily fortified front-line command post, with multiple checkpoints at the town entrance and militia soldiers patrolling back and forth everywhere, alert and vigorous, equipped superbly and expressions solemn.
The trucks pulled up one by one in an open area, the engine roars gradually fading, leaving only the “crackling” as they cooled.
“We’re here… everyone get off quick!”
Accompanied by the “clang” of the rear railings dropping, the drivers’ rough shouts rang out, carrying far in the quiet night.
The solid ground underfoot felt like a pardon to the soldiers in the trucks.
They supported each other, jumping down one by one from the truck beds.
Those who hadn’t gotten sick were okay, just jolted to where their bones felt like they might fall apart.
But ones like Li Yunlong who’d been sick the whole way, the moment their feet touched ground, their legs were still wobbly; he swayed twice and nearly sat down hard, luckily steadied by the quick-eyed Zhao Gang beside him.
“Damn it…”
Li Yunlong braced his knees, deeply inhaling the cold air laced with gunpowder, his face still pale but his eyes regaining some spirit: “Finally here… this truck ride is more exhausting than bayonet-charging the Japanese devils!”
“Haha… Old Li… you guys are here too?”
No sooner had Li Yunlong’s complaint landed than a familiar voice rang out from under the lights not far away.
He and Zhao Gang turned to look together, seeing a figure in Eighth Route Army uniform striding toward them laughing heartily—a tall, steady gait that could only be New First Regiment Commander Ding Wei.
Seeing Ding Wei’s face full of teasing amusement, Li Yunlong—who’d been standing all wobbly like a soft-legged shrimp—suddenly found some strength from who-knows-where, shoving away Zhao Gang’s supporting hand, forcing his back ramrod straight, glaring at Ding Wei: “Old Ding… when did you get here?”
“Not long ago.”
Ding Wei walked up to Li Yunlong, not rushing to answer but circling him half-way, eyeing him carefully from head to toe like some rare artifact, finally unable to hold back his laughter, chuckling:
“Old Li, oh Old Li, never thought you’d have this side to you—Li Yunlong gets carsick? Tsk tsk, looks like I gotta find a chance to tell Old Kong and Blind Cheng all about your heroic exploits today, let them know how our great Regiment Commander Li magnificently puked his way here!”
“Old Ding, you dare?”
Hearing this embarrassment was to be spread around, Li Yunlong blew up on the spot, his face flushing red—whether from anger or carsick aftereffects, who knew.
Ding Wei smugly jutted his chin: “What’s not to dare? Talk to me like that again, and believe me, I’ll wire Old Kong right now?
Don’t forget, big brother here now has three radio sets—send whenever I want!”
“Hey… you… believe I’ll find you for a spar as soon as I recover!”
Li Yunlong angrily pointed a shaking finger at Ding Wei, but his legs were still jelly, zero intimidating power.
“Afraid of you?” Ding Wei exaggeratedly smacked his lips, face full of disdain: “We’ve been comrades for so many years, think I don’t know your level?
Three punches two kicks and you’re down!”
These two old comrades who’d racked up over sixty years between them were right there at the pre-battle rendezvous, in front of soldiers from both units, trading barbs in a mouth battle.
Beside them, Zhao Gang watched the scene, helplessly shaking his head, though with a smile on his face—he was long used to these two old comrades’ way of getting along.
Though the pair often bantered and bickered, the Jin Northwest Iron Triangle title wasn’t for show; Li Yunlong, Kong Jie, and Ding Wei were tight as brothers.
Ding Wei was probably teasing Li Yunlong to distract him, help the old comrade recover his state quicker.
