Durani took out the sharp saber from his side, which he had seized from the Soviet tank driver last time. After pulling it out, it shone with a cold light, as if it had seen human blood.
"Puff!" With the sound, Durani cut a slit in the can with his saber, and then he flicked his wrist and opened the lid of the can.
The smell was very delicious. Durani brought the can close to his eyes and, using the starlight, reached into the can with his saber. He first picked out a piece of meat and tasted it.
Unexpectedly, as soon as he saw it, his hands started shaking and he almost dropped the entire can of food on the ground.
Is this a can? Why does it look like the legendary Pandora's box? Durani looked at the big fish head and the sharp teeth in the fish mouth. Is this thing edible?
Looking again, he saw that some of the cans of other people's food contained fish bodies, which tasted delicious when chewed, while some, like him, contained fish heads.
"Eat it. Even though the Soviet devils are hateful, their canned food is still good." At this moment, a voice came to my ears.
Durani knew it was Muhammad without looking up. Although he was very hungry, the fish head, especially the teeth, still made him a little afraid. If he really tried to bite it, would the fish head suddenly bite him?
Looking at Durrani's appearance, Muhammad handed him his can of food, which contained two pieces of fat fish. He took Durrani's can, picked it up with his saber, and put it in his mouth.
A smell with a pungent yet sweet taste entered my mouth. In later generations, although we also ate military canned food, it was not as flavorful as the one we eat now.
Muhammad chewed it hard. Most of the bones in the fish head were chewable. Eating these bones was better than eating meat as it could supplement more calcium.
When the Soviets made canned food, they also used their own wild method. They chopped up the huge herrings, added a bunch of ingredients, cooked them, and stuffed them into cans. Although the method was simple, the soldiers still liked to eat them.
Seeing Muhammad eating with relish, Durrani, with an empty stomach, picked up the fish with his bayonet and started eating.
Muhammad put down the can. At this time, even the juice inside had been drunk up by him. At this moment, he heard footsteps coming from a distance.
Muhammad's eyes were looking towards the road leading to the mountain village. At this moment, two people were walking towards him.
Although Muhammad knew that the person coming was probably a friend, he still put his hand on the AKM slung on his back so that he could pull it out and shoot at any time.
"Instructor, where is the instructor?" a voice asked from the other side.
After hearing this, Muhammad put down his hand. The voice came from the Aga who was sent out.
"I'm here," Muhammad said as he strode over.
At this time, Hewaja on the other side also walked up.
"Instructor, this is the elder of our Gost village, Masood. Elder, this is the instructor of our guerrilla team. He comes from a friendly neighboring country." Aga said.
"Elder Masood, it's nice to see you," said Muhammad.
Not every elder is very old, with gray beards. Masood looks to be in his forties, with a thick black beard, and is in good spirits. He has a towel wrapped around his head, which is common among locals, and wears a long robe.
"Dear friend, welcome to Gost. At this time, those who come to Afghanistan are our most sincere friends. On behalf of the Gost village, I would like to thank our Afghan friends for extending their great hands at this time." Masood said, putting his hands on his chest and bowing deeply. This etiquette is already quite high.
Suddenly, Muhammad was stunned. It was just an ordinary meeting, was there any need to make it so grand?
"Elder Masood, we all have the same faith. We will never watch our brothers being rudely and brutally invaded. Not only in Pakistan, but now the whole world stands on the side of our Afghan brothers. I, Muhammad, promise here that until the Soviet devils are driven away, I, Muhammad, will never leave Afghanistan and my brothers." Muhammad said solemnly.
Masood raised his head and looked at Muhammad. This man's eyes were so deep and his words just now were so sincere. At this moment, Masood really had an impulse to pick up the gun and follow this Pakistani brother in front of him to fight the Soviet devils!
"Thank you, brother Muhammad. I believe we will definitely drive away the Soviet devils." Masood said, "Today, it is an honor for our Gust Village to be able to carry ammunition for our guerrillas. I have sent people to convey the message door to door. Soon, someone will come to help our guerrillas carry ammunition. In addition, I have also notified several neighboring villages. They will arrive within an hour. Tonight, we will help the guerrillas move all the ammunition to the mountains."
Before coming, Masood had already learned from Aga and Khadim that this time the guerrillas had driven the truck outside the village and could not get in. He had to help the guerrillas transport the contents of the truck to the base in the mountains. So, while Masood sent people to notify them, he came out to take a look.
Masood is an elder, but he is not just the elder of Gost Village. An elder is a highly respected person in a tribe, and is elected by everyone.
Several nearby villages and Gust Village all belong to the same tribe.
However, if they wanted to move all the things in the truck, there were not enough people in their village. After all, the ammunition boxes were very heavy, and it was very tiring for one person to carry a box while walking dozens of miles along the mountain road.
So, Masood was found.
"Thank you, Elder Masood." Muhammad said. Now that so many people have come, the original cargo on the truck plus the cargo stolen from the outpost can be easily moved back.
Masood smiled. The young man in front of him had a temperament that suited him very well.
As they were talking, there was a noisy sound coming from behind. A large group of strong men, led by Hadim, had arrived outside the village.
"Khadim, you guys are amazing! You can even get Soviet trucks!" said a young man of the same age as Khadim.
This young man and Khadim were childhood playmates, and when he heard that they were moving things, he immediately followed. Now, seeing that Khadim's guerrillas had obtained this truck, he was extremely envious, because he had only ridden in donkey carts since he was a child, and had never ridden in such a powerful truck.
"What's so special about this truck? A few days ago, we destroyed a Soviet tank! It's a pity that the tank is broken, otherwise, I would drive it for you to see." Khadim showed off in front of his playmates.
"Captain Hewaja, please organize these villagers to move the things on the truck," said Muhammad.
"Okay." Muhammad agreed without hesitation, and then asked, "What about you?"
"After I move all the things in the car, I need to drive it to a secret place and hide it first," said Muhammad.
If the truck was left outside the village, the Soviets would find it soon, and then the whole village would be implicated. Muhammad would not do such a thing that would implicate civilians, so he had to think carefully.
Among these people, he seemed to be the only one who could drive a truck, so although Muhammad wanted to go back to the base to rest after fighting a battle, no, it should be three consecutive battles. Although Muhammad was still very energetic and knew that he needed to rest, he still had to drive the truck away from the village and hide it.
In fact, Hewaja had the same intention when he asked Muhammad. He felt relieved when he heard Muhammad say that: "Okay, then please be careful, instructor, and leave two team members to follow you."
With Khawaja directing the transportation, Muhammad had some free time.
Elder Masood looked at the villagers busy unloading things from the truck and a smile appeared on his face. However, after turning around, his expression froze.
"Where is Saha? Why didn't he come?" Masood asked.
Masood knew everyone in the village. Helping the guerrillas carry weapons was what the villagers should do. Saha was usually very active, why didn't he come now?
"Elder, Saha is sick." said a villager.
Sick? No wonder. Masood was relieved and said, "Saha is usually as strong as a bull. I didn't expect him to be sick. I saw him yesterday. I have to go see him tomorrow."
Masood was originally talking to himself, but when Muhammad heard it, his heart sank suddenly.
Muhammad didn't care that the villager named Saha didn't come to help them carry weapons and equipment. However, this strong villager was actually sick now. Moreover, Masoud said that Saha was fine yesterday, but now he was sick.
This disease is a bit strange, no, I have to go and see it! At this time, Muhammad relied entirely on his intuition.
"Elder Masood, it will take another half an hour to move the weapons. During this time, I will accompany you to the village to see brother Saha." Muhammad said.
Hearing Muhammad say this, Masood was a little surprised: "It's so dark now. If Saha is sick, he should rest. Brother Muhammad, I'm afraid it's a little inconvenient."
"Elder Masood, I learned some medical skills when I was in Pakistan. You know, some illnesses cannot be delayed. I'll go and see. If this brother Saha has an acute illness, we have to send him outside for treatment." Muhammad said, "Let's go. Saving lives is the most important thing."