At six in the morning.
The front line.
"Platoon Leader, is Chief Chen really coming to the battlefield?" a young soldier asked in a hushed voice, repeating the question for who knew how many times.
"That's what the higher-ups said. Why are you lot so damn talkative?" The platoon leader was growing impatient. Looking at his soldiers gathered around him with faces like curious babies, he scolded them:
"If you've got so much free time, polish your guns. Sweat more in peacetime, bleed less in wartime. When danger truly comes, the only thing you can rely on is the gun in your hands."
He glanced at the dark sky. Although it had finally cleared up today, dark clouds still covered the heavens. The weather was hot and stuffy, clearly indicating that another thunderstorm would come before long.
This place lay on the equator and had a true tropical rainforest climate, humid and sweltering.
Every day was either raining or preparing to rain.
Fighting here was practically torture. Their bodies stayed damp every day, and sometimes they had to stand in the rain. Their clothes never had a chance to dry.
On top of that, there was malaria, parasites, and poisonous insects of all kinds, making this place extraordinarily dangerous. A considerable portion of the soldiers who became casualties had fallen victim to these things. If he had a choice, he would rather fight in a dry desert than stay here.
"Oh, got it."
The soldiers replied listlessly, then began taking apart their guns at a snail's pace.
The platoon leader shook his head at the sight. Most of the soldiers here were new recruits who had yet to experience the cruelty of war firsthand.
"Boom... boom... boom..."
A dull sound came from the distance, like muffled thunder on the horizon.