Warning: Some of the words used in this article may be offensive. Since the story takes place in the apartheid EU, this is not unusual.

OR1-EP2: Battle of Rhodesia (10)

If there is a land blessed by gods in the world (assuming that there are gods), that land will not be Africa, nor will it be any corner of Africa. Drought, desolation, and man-made poverty are the only impressions of Africa from the outside world. Only those old people who have lived in Africa for decades know that Africa, even when they were young, was not what it is today.

No one would be willing to come here on their own initiative, even mercenaries with blood on their hands would choose to succumb in Africa. The worse problem for Michael McNeil was that he didn't know whether the unreliable soldiers were getting supplies as planned. If they dared to cut corners at one of the depots, it was unrealistic to expect them to be serious elsewhere. In this way, McNeil must be prepared in advance. Once he confirms that the supplies provided by the Defense Forces are far less than required, the next action plan needs to be based on the premise that sufficient supplies cannot be obtained.

He stood by the river, on the sand, his eyes fixed on the low bushes on the other side. Beside him, the thirsty teammates had already bent down and drank the clear river water. In the face of the test of survival, very few people can endure this kind of torture. At this time, pretending to be humble is to give up the hope of living.

"Be careful, don't drink water from unknown sources." McNeil urged, "I guess you want to say that those natives grew up drinking this water, and they didn't die violently—then how could you figure out whether those people have parasitic diseases or other diseases caused by contaminated drinking water?"

McNeil's excessive caution made everyone a little dissatisfied, but at such a critical juncture, they would rather choose to continue to endure McNeil's nagging. The fact is clear, the army they had high hopes for let them down. Since they couldn't get enough supplies from the supply line set up by the army, every bit of food, water, and ammunition must be used carefully. In other words, it would be quite unfavorable for everyone to continue to operate independently from the rest of the troop today.

Carlo Farah told McNeil what he thought. McNeil listened carefully to the Italian finishing his opinions, and then convened others to discuss countermeasures. Although others didn't say so, their intentions were clear: They must plan for their own retreat as early as possible. The situation is not good for them, if the battle result still does not improve in the next few days, some people should come up with a prepared escape plan.

The chirping of insects and birds could be heard in his ears, and McNeil nervously thought about countermeasures. If it weren't for the vicious appearance of everyone, outsiders might think that this was a TV station making a nature documentary.

"We have two things to do now." McNeil stretched out his left index finger, "The first thing, send someone to pass the information we have collected outside, it is best to let Colonel Karl Duttmann understand that he is facing the native that can go head-to-head with the garrison he has on hand. The second thing, the others will return to that WWII-era underground facility with me and make a new plan of action based on the movements of our teammates in recent days."

The task force members waited for McNeil's order. This is the last chance that the messenger can escape the increasingly dangerous battlefield without anyone calling him a coward. The rapid changes in the battle were unpredictable, and the scale of the natives made Colonel Karl Duttmann's entire force not necessarily able to fight against it, let alone these mercenaries who were temporary workers.

"What's the matter?" McNeil frowned. "Don't have any scruples. Whoever wants to take on this task should show me your will now. If you don't plan to ask for help, then I'll just point out someone to do it for me."

- No one will give up the chance to escape. However, if the risk of staying here and continuing to fight is very high, the work of passing information can only be said to be slightly less risky than the former. The courier would have to travel alone through the wilderness to a nearby Defense Force garrison, where he might be intercepted by natives or Britannians, and no one could help him. Besides, it remains to be seen whether Colonel Duttmann will react in the same way as McNeil had expected when he heard the information. If the situation worsens, the person who passed the information will become the target of public criticism.

Seeing that McNeil was in a dilemma, David Roberts preemptively said: "Then sort by age, the youngest leave, so it should be fair."

The implication is that Carlo Farah, who is not yet twenty years old, should be eligible to live. McNeil wanted to say that David Roberts with lots of family members should be evacuated immediately, but it was inconvenient for him to make his intention so obvious, so he had to agree with Roberts' proposal. When everyone saw that the captain and vice-captain had reached a consensus, no one dared to rashly object, and they all spoke in support. Only Carlo Farah himself seemed a little dissatisfied. He thought that he could stay here and fight side by side with his companions, and there was no need to be a deserter.

"Pick someone else, I'm still useful." Carlo Farah said bluntly to McNeil, "If anyone is best suited to return to the back to rest, of course they are older people. Young people should suffer more."

"This matter has been confirmed, and the objection is invalid." McNeil said flatly, "I have no interest in pulling half-old children to block bullets for me, and I don't need to. If you really think you can still be useful, after you pass the message back, remember to come back to us."

Roberts said aside: "Don't listen to his nonsense! ... It's better not to come back."

The crowd burst into laughter and sent Carlo Farah away in the midst of laughter. When the young man left here, he looked back from time to time, as if to confirm that his companions were still safe. When the figure of the Italian completely disappeared in the distance, the warm emotions that had just been raised immediately dissipated, and the fact that they were as cold as iron made them clear about their own situation.

"Now the world is getting worse, and people's hearts are even harder. Such kind and righteous young people are rare."

"Maybe he was just guilty of running for his life to leave us behind." McNeil broke David Roberts' fantasy, "Everyone, we're going back now, don't waste time. We don't know what other people have done in the past days, maybe their response will relieve our pressure, maybe it will only make the situation worse. But we can't just leave them there to die..."

After a short rest, everyone decided to leave the river and head towards the original underground facility. According to the battle plan formulated in advance, they should have visited here last, but now they arrived earlier by accident. McNeil seemed to suddenly remember something. He took out his dagger and carved a strange symbol on a nearby tree. David Roberts looked back and found that the captain was gone, and hurried back to look for him, only to see McNeil put away the dagger in a hurry and walked towards Roberts as if nothing had happened.

"What did you do?"

"Verify a conjecture." McNeil said casually, "We have always speculated that the Britannian Empire is secretly supporting these indigenous people, and some methods of confusion can only work on professionals."

If Britannians mistake the river for poison, they can choose the easiest way to test it, which is to have the indigenous people test the poison. But then the already xenophobic natives are bound to deepen their distrust of the Britannians, and McNeil may have a chance. McNeil believes that the poisoning plan does not have to be implemented, as long as the enemy thinks that they choose to poison, the panic caused is enough to make the enemy temporarily neglected.

McNeil hoped to return to the underground facility quickly, but his plans were finally thwarted after encountering a group of natives. The two teams met on the wilderness. At first, Roberts thought that the figure walking on the opposite side was a teammate. After a few minutes, he realized that it was actually a local indigenous person. Almost at the same time, the natives also discovered them, but these natives armed with rifles did not choose to fight them, but turned their heads and ran. Just as everyone was wondering about this change, McNeil eagerly called on his companions to join him in chasing the natives.

"Damn, they're smart enough to tell the other natives nearby or their Britannian benefactors that we're here," McNeil yelled at Roberts, "Catch them, all of them. Don't let anyone leave, slay them all!"

Two groups of armed men of different skin colors launched a long chase. The mercenaries are well-trained and experienced in hundreds of battles. Almost everyone has pursued various types of dangerous enemies in various environments; the indigenous people are running around in the wilderness all the year round. This is their homeland, and no one knows this place better than them.

Out of breath, Roberts continued to chase forward, and suddenly heard a scream coming from beside him. It turned out that his teammate accidentally stepped on the trap used by the natives to catch wild beasts, and was hung up by a rope and hung in the air. He hurriedly ran towards the position of his teammates, but felt a huge force behind him grabbing his collar and carrying him forward. The vice-captain looked back and saw that it was McNeil with an angry face.

"Captain-"

"Leave him alone!" McNeil roared. "If these people run away, maybe we'll all die here today."

David Roberts was shaking; he didn't expect McNeil to say such a thing. Just when he was still struggling with being forced to give up his teammates, he heard McNeil continue to say to him: "...I'll go and save him, and you will continue to chase with others."

Michael McNeil quickly left the team and ran towards the roadside. He rushed under the tree in three steps and two steps, easily climbed the tree, climbed upside down along the trunk, and cut the rope with a dagger. The soldier fell heavily on the grass and did not recover for a long time. When McNeil jumped from the tree, that man rushed to express his gratitude to McNeil. McNeil didn't say anything, just ignored the hospitality of his teammates with his usual indifference, and then asked him to quickly follow the team in front.

The chase over the wilderness ended in a victory for McNeil's side. The natives were worried that they would be chasing after them, and from time to time they turned to shoot at the enemy, but the natives' marksmanship was not accurate, and none of the shots hit the pursuers in the rear. Seeing that the native was almost exhausted, David Roberts raised his gun and shot at the person behind, hitting the other's thigh. The native fell to the ground and was covered by lush grass. When the other team members saw this, they followed suit. Soon after, the other two natives were also shot and fell to the ground. The crowd rushed up, dug out three injured natives from the grass, tied the three of them, and sent them to McNeil, who was catching up slowly.

"I guess they don't understand what we're saying," Roberts explained. "There are still natives who don't speak English."

"They're real Aboriginals, not fake Aboriginals who scam tourists out of money," McNeil said sullenly. "I'm just curious how they communicate with Britannians—if there are Britannians. Okay, since we can't ask anything, we can solve the problem on the spot. Hurry up."

David Roberts took the lead and killed three natives with a dagger. Some irrelevant impressions kept popping up in his mind, such as the scene after the watermelon was smashed in midsummer. McNeil sighed and patted the vice-captain's right cheek, reminding him to wake up quickly.

"If they don't die, we have to die, even though it's actually us who are damned."

The next night, McNeil and the others rushed back to the EU underground facility. However, the uncharacteristically quietness of the outskirts created unspeakable terror, and even McNeil, who thought he was fearless, was disgusted by the sight. He took the initiative to go deep underground from the entrance and found that there was no trace of anyone inside. Everyone didn't give up. They cooperated with each other and turned the entire underground facility upside down from the inside out, and they didn't find half of their teammates. This was a scene that was more terrifying than the corpses, and they gathered in one of the rooms, discussing countermeasures nervously.

McNeil put the helmet - with the headlight on - on the cabinet next to him, and said:

"It's been about two days since they left here, and that's when we go to the supply point."

"This place is so safe; I'd definitely stay if I were here." David Roberts was lying on the ground exhausted, and he didn't care about hygiene, so he weakly responded to McNeil's words, "What did they go out for? Was it a plan to get out and kill those natives caught off guard?"

"...If they really plan this way, then we may be able to erect tombstones for them directly." McNeil said with a solemn expression, "The natives here, men and women, young and old, have been mobilized by the Britannians to resist us. The total strength of these invaders is more than the Fifth Infantry Regiment outside. Throwing dozens of them into the sea full of the enemy will not even cause a splash."

Although the conclusion is not optimistic, McNeil decided to rest here for the night. However, no one slept tonight, and everyone saw that the scythe-wielding death was waiting for their arrival.

TBC

Chapter Notes:

So I had to think hard about what kind of war would have been in the 1990s without satellites and all the other modern equipment.