"Regiment Commander, have something to eat!"
Next to the armored vehicle, an hour had already passed, and the Regiment Commander was still sitting by the vehicle.
At the heavy machine gun position from earlier, a platoon leader who had been killed by a grenade came over with a water flask and some dry rations, speaking softly.
"You eat it yourself!"
The Regiment Commander didn't get angry, but he only glanced up at him, and with a weary tone, he uttered these words.
The platoon leader didn't dare to say more.
With a conflicted expression, he was certain that if he dared to speak again, the Regiment Commander would curse him outright.
So he gently placed the water flask and dry rations next to the Regiment Commander and then turned to leave.
"Platoon leader, the Regiment Commander isn't eating?" Back in their own platoon area, a soldier asked.
