Working as a police officer in Mexico

"Help me! Help me! I don't want to die, I can't die here, medic!"

A captain with both legs broken lay on the ground, covered in blood, shouting in a shrill voice. The intense pain was making him lose control of his mind.

But he wasn't alone.

All around were injured and mutilated soldiers.

Veterans looked around cautiously, while rookies were at a loss, and officers were giving orders over the radio.

However...

"Brigadier Orellio? Who's seen the brigadier?"

The deputy brigadier's guard, face covered in blood, crouched and ran over with a carbine, eyes filled with terror.

No way... no way...

Not going to die here, right?

It's possible though; bullets don't recognize people.

It's not like how in India, Third Sister-in-law could smell her husband's scent from ten kilometers away, even lying on the ground.

"Here!"

Under a big tree, Colonel Orellio Henderson weakly raised a hand and called out, several guards hurried over, finding his thigh blown apart, with a medic nearby administering morphine and initial blood-stopping measures.

"The artery is hit."

The medic shook his head, biting his molars. His words below were unnecessary; this was certain death, especially on the battlefield where paratroopers didn't have the luxury of being transported to the rear.

Colonel Orellio Henderson grabbed the guard captain's hand, exerting some strength as if having a final resurgence, widened his eyes and said, "Blow up the Warrior Bridge and stop the Mexican Army's reinforcement."

"Brigadier!"

"It's fine, it's fine, I'll be okay after a short rest."

Colonel Orellio Henderson muttered to himself, lips turning pale, eyes beginning to glaze over, "I think I see Steve coming to fetch me."

The guard captain, who had been with him for four or five years, almost burst into tears.

Steve was Orellio's son who died of cancer.

Gradually...

The other side fell silent, the guard captain bowed his head, shoulders trembling, but quickly wiped his eyes, "Hide the brigadier's body well, wait for our victory!"

Though Orellio Henderson, who led the team, had perished!

The command passed down the hierarchy.

The battalion commander of the 407th Brigade's support battalion was thoroughly mangled, his body ripped into pieces by "such thick" bullets, while the luck of the Major Commander of the 1st Squadron of the 73rd Cavalry Corps was better, as he landed on the ground.

He called out over the radio, "Quickly rally to me!"

According to the coordinates and positioning he provided, everyone scattered around ran towards him.

Half an hour later…

In the woods four kilometers west of the Warrior Bridge, Major Commander Jeff looked at the terrified soldiers before him, half opened his mouth...

"Are these all the people left?"

The soldiers looked at each other, knowing well many familiar faces from the two units' usual interactions were now gone.

Morale: -1-1-1!

At a glance, about 700 people were present!

A 2100-strong unit had lost over 1300 in mid-air…

Such losses were the equivalent of directly losing a regiment, as in modern warfare, heavy firepower greatly increased soldier casualties.

Generally, when a military unit's casualty rate reaches 20%, its combat effectiveness might be significantly affected; at 30%, the unit would likely lose its combat capability.

A 30% casualty rate is considered a critical threshold, beyond which, the army's fighting ability would noticeably decline, or even collapse!!

Of course, elite forces can reach about 70-80%, but that's rare worldwide.

"I want... I want to go home..." said a bespectacled soldier, like a college graduate, in a low voice, audible to those around him, who all looked over in unison.

"Shut up, do you want to be a deserter?" scolded a lieutenant from the left front.

"But with so few of us, can we hold off the Mexican Army after blowing up the bridge? I... I... I don't want to die pointlessly." The other retorted, vividly recalling the terror of bullets grazing past in mid-air, and comrades being blown apart, causing his pupils to dilate.

Just as he was about to speak...

Major Commander Jeff stood up and fired a shot, the bullet shot through the other's head with a bang, and the body fell heavily to the ground. The surrounding people exclaimed in shock, dodging aside and staring in disbelief at the former.

"Disturbing the army's morale before battle, dealt with according to military law! I'm the supreme commander here, follow my orders!"

"Everyone advance towards the Warrior Bridge, make sure to blow it up."

Major Commander Jeff looked at them, his tone relaxing, "Do you think surrendering will end well? Victor is notorious as a leader with a deep hatred for evil, and I know many here have used drugs; if discovered, what do you think... he would do?"

"Mexico has no shortage of deserts and graves."

"In the desert, drug traffickers and addicts become fertilizer for cacti..."

The remaining soldiers shuddered at the thought and dared not mention surrender again.

Victor's reputation was simply too well known.

If he were in WWII, both the Allies and Axis powers would be pummeled by him.

The German Army of WWII is often mythicized, many war history records mention German soldiers being "loyal and brave," able to fight heroically on the battlefield for days without rest, embodying the Aryan superman image. But that's complete fabrication, as these records never mention the German Army was drug-fueled, using a substance called "Pervitin," composed mainly of "methamphetamine," also known as "meth."

It's also known by another name, anyone can guess?

The entire German Army was addicted to drugs, and during that era, the British Army wasn't to be outdone.

Post-1941, the British Army began distributing a drug called "No-Sleep Pills" internally, claimed to keep soldiers' fighting spirit high and eliminate fatigue, but in reality, it was the same as Pervitin, a drug product.

See, the British Army's traditional performance magic, sustaining morale entirely by doping.

In the 1942 Battle of El Alamein, Montgomery ordered the issuance of 100,000 pills to soldiers to help them persevere in high-intensity combat.

Throughout the war, the British Army consumed a full 75 million different methamphetamine drugs, turning the British Army into an addict force!

The 82nd Airborne Division had long relied on drug use to maintain combat strength and morale.

After all…

Paratroopers are destined to be encircled, destined to be sacrifices!

Who's not afraid?

Major Commander Jeff led his men towards the bridge four kilometers away, meanwhile, the commander of the Mexican reserve anti-air battalion had long noted something amiss.

Why had paratroopers suddenly dropped?

These guys were clearly here for sabotage, definitely to blow up the bridge.

So he left a company back to pack up weapons, and the rest hurried lightly to the Warrior Bridge.

One party rushed from the west, the other from the east.

Hey!

Both sides almost simultaneously arrived at the bridge.

Seeing the people on the opposite side, both parties were momentarily stunned.

Then simultaneously shouted:

"Open fire!"

"Kill them!!!"

Wild birds in the forest flapped their wings and flew far away.

At the bridge…

Gunfire roared like thunder across the open plains, with echoes lingering!

...