After Zhongtiao Mountain, the Yellow River is a boundary between life and death. A speechless military doctor walked towards the final ferry. The medicine has been used up and the blood is not yet cold, but the muzzle of the gun on the other side is colder than the artillery fire behind him. When survival itself becomes a crime, who can judge the debacle?
Intention: The defeated soldiers in Zhongtiao Mountain walked out of their own bloody path