Welcome to the Mannerheim Line (3)
More often than not, plans could never keep up with change.
Zhang Heng only made his way to the initial firefight after the gunshots had moved away, minimizing the risk as much as possible. But an accident still occurred—the first group of Soviet soldiers returned far earlier than expected.
There was no point regretting or complaining now. Zhang Heng could only lower his body and flee in the opposite direction.
The moment he moved, the Soviet soldiers spotted him.
At times like this, one had to praise the Soviet logistics department. During the Winter War, Soviet soldiers mostly wore khaki uniforms, making them as conspicuous as golden beetles in the snow. It was hard not to draw gunfire, and this was undoubtedly one reason for the Soviet army's high casualty rate.
Zhang Heng knew without looking back that the Soviet soldiers were drawing their guns and chambering rounds. Fortunately, all the long-distance running he had kept up paid off. After a short burst of speed, he quickly widened the gap. With trees blocking the way in the forest, although gunshots rang beside his ears, the bullets landed far from his body.
Zhang Heng did not dare let his guard down. He ran wildly until his strength was nearly exhausted, then stopped and braced himself against a fir tree, gasping for breath.
He knew he was temporarily safe. The Soviet soldiers were carrying more weight than he was, and after one round of pursuit, they likely had little strength left. They should not be able to catch up anytime soon.
Taking advantage of the time, Zhang Heng opened the canvas backpack and checked the spoils from his risky venture. From top to bottom, it contained personal hygiene supplies, spare footwraps, utensils, and combat rations... Footwraps