Changjin Lake: My Space Is Filled with American Equipment

Forty degrees below zero. Chen Mancang's hands were rotten with frostbite and had holes in them. The entire company regarded him as a stammering waste soldier and threw him into the cooking class to light the fire. No one knew that inside the shell of this 19-year-old recruit was a special forces sergeant major from time-to-time, with 100 cubic meters of American equipment hidden in his mind—a mountain of M1 carbines and a penicillin cashmere coat. You can only rely on "good luck". The comrades in Langlin Mountain were frozen, so he "went to the back mountain to find fellow soldiers" and brought back five sets of American winter clothes; when an M24 tank came over, the whole company was in despair, and he got out from behind the abandoned truck with a bazooka in his arms, and he was entranced. Commander Smith roared: "Where did these weapons come from?!" Zhou, the leader of the cooking team, has a hard mouth and a soft heart, and always secretly stuffs him with hot mush. The second the American artillery fire came, Lao Zhou pinned him down, his back was blown apart, and he was so angry: "The warehouse is full... Drive the American devils out for me... Don't let the children freeze anymore..." My hands are cold. Chasing the defeated troops, he "lost" and took away the Polar Bear Regiment headquarters. Company Commander Zhao rushed over and grabbed his wrist - Chen Mancang grabbed his backhand reflexively and stopped him with one move. Company Commander Zhao stared at him: "Chen Mancang, who are you?" "Who are you anyway?"