Chapter 19

Durani took out the sharp military knife from his side. This was the one he had seized from a Soviet tank driver last time. When he drew it out, it still gleamed with a cold light, as if it had seen human blood before.

With a "puff" sound, Durani used the military knife to cut a slit in the can, then, with a flick of his wrist, he opened the lid of the can.

The smell was very fragrant. Durani brought the can to his nose, and under the starlight, he used the military knife to pick out a piece of meat and tasted it.

However, as soon as he saw it, his hand trembled, almost dropping the entire can to the ground.

Is this a can? How is it like that legendary Pandora's box? Durani looked at the large fish head, with all its sharp teeth inside the mouth. Can this thing be eaten?

Looking again, others' cans contained fish bodies, which were very tasty when chewed, but some, like his, contained a fish head.

"Eat it, don't mind the Soviet devils. However, the Soviet can is still pretty good." At this moment, a voice came from behind.

Durani didn't need to look up to know it was Muhammad. Although he was very hungry, the fish head, especially the teeth, still made him a bit wary. If he really bit into it, would the fish head suddenly bite him back?

Seeing Durani's hesitation, Muhammad handed his can to him, which contained two large pieces of fish. He took Durani's can, used the military knife to pick out some fish, and put it in his mouth.

A smell that was both gamey and sweet entered his mouth. In the future, although he also ate military cans, they were not as flavorful as these.

Muhammad chewed hard. Most of the bones in the fish head could be chewed, and eating the bones was better than eating the meat, as it provided more calcium.

When the Soviets made cans, they used their wild and bold method. They chopped up huge herring, added a bunch of ingredients, cooked them, and stuffed them into cans. Although the method was simple, the soldiers still enjoyed eating them.

Seeing Muhammad eat with relish, Durani, who was starving, used his bayonet to pick out the fish and started eating.

Muhammad put down the can, and at this moment, even the juice inside had been drunk dry. Then he heard a sound of footsteps coming from a distance.

Muhammad's eyes looked toward the path leading to the village. At this moment, two people were walking from there.

Although Muhammad knew they should be friends, he still put his hand on the AKM on his back, ready to draw it and shoot at any time.

"Where is the instructor? Where is the instructor?" a voice from the opposite side asked.

Hearing this, Muhammad put his hand down. This voice belonged to Aga, who had been sent out.

"I'm here." Muhammad said as he walked over.

At this moment, Khwaja also walked over.

"Instructor, this is the elder of our Khost village, Masud. Elder, this is the instructor of our guerrilla group, who comes from a friendly neighboring country," Aga said.

"Elder Masud, it's a pleasure to meet you," Muhammad said.

Not every elder is old with white hair. This Masud looked to be in his forties, with a thick, black beard and a good spirit. He wore a common headscarf and a long robe.

"Respected friend, welcome to Khost. Those who come to Afghanistan at this time are our most sincere friends. I represent Khost village and thank our Afghan friends for extending their great hands at this time," Masud said, placing his hand on his chest and bowing deeply, a very high form of respect.

Muhammad was taken aback. It was just a regular meeting, did it need to be so grand?

"Elder Masud, we share the same faith and will never stand idly by while our brothers are brutally invaded. Not only our Pakistan, but the whole world stands with our Afghan brothers. I, Muhammad, promise that I will never leave Afghanistan until the Soviet devils are driven out," Muhammad said solemnly.

Masud looked up at Muhammad. This man's eyes were so deep, and his words were so sincere. At this moment, Masud really felt an impulse to pick up a gun and follow this Pakistani brother to fight the Soviet devils!

"Thank you, Brother Muhammad. I believe we will drive out the Soviet devils," Masud said. "Today, it is an honor for our Khost village to help our guerrillas transport ammunition. I have already sent people to inform every household, and soon, people will come to help our guerrillas transport the ammunition. I have also informed the nearby villages, and they will arrive within an hour. Tonight, we will help the guerrillas move the ammunition to the mountains."

Before coming, Masud had already learned through Aga and Hadim that the guerrillas had driven the truck to the outskirts of the village, and it couldn't go inside. They needed help to transport the things in the truck to the base in the mountains. So, Masud sent people to inform the villagers and came to check.

Masud was an elder, but not just of Khost village. An elder is a respected person in a tribe, elected by the people.

The nearby villages, including Khost, belonged to the same tribe.

To transport everything in the truck, the people of one village were not enough. After all, the ammunition boxes were heavy, and it would be tiring to carry one box for several miles.

So, Masud had gathered more people.

"Thank you, Elder Masud," Muhammad said. With so many people, the original cargo of the truck, plus the loot from the outpost, could be easily moved.

Masud smiled. The young man in front of him was very much to his liking.

As they were talking, a noisy sound came from behind. A large group of young men, led by Hadim, had already arrived outside the village.

"Hadim, you guys are amazing! You even managed to get a Soviet truck!" a young man of about Hadim's age said.

This young man was Hadim's childhood friend. When he heard about the task, he immediately came along. Now, seeing the truck that Hadim's guerrillas had brought, he was very envious. He had only ridden in a donkey cart all his life and had never ridden in such a powerful truck.

"This truck is nothing. A few days ago, we even destroyed a Soviet tank! Unfortunately, the tank was broken, or I would have let you drive it," Hadim boasted to his friend.

"Captain Khwaja, organize these villagers to unload the truck," Muhammad said.

"Okay," Muhammad agreed without hesitation and then asked, "What about you?"

"Once the things on the truck are unloaded, I need to drive it to a secret place and hide it," Muhammad said.

If the truck was left outside the village, the Soviets would soon find it, and the whole village would suffer. Muhammad would not do anything to endanger civilians and had to think carefully.

Moreover, it seemed that only he knew how to drive the truck. Although Muhammad wanted to return to the base to rest after the battle—no, after three consecutive battles—Muhammad was still very energetic but knew he needed to rest. However, he still had to drive the truck to a place far from the village and hide it.

Actually, when Khwaja asked Muhammad, he had the same intention. Hearing Muhammad's words, he felt relieved: "Okay, then please be careful, Instructor. Take two members with you."

With Khwaja organizing the unloading, Muhammad could relax.

Elder Masud watched the villagers start unloading the truck, and a smile appeared on his face. However, after a moment, his expression stiffened.

"Where is Saha? Why didn't he come?" Masud asked.

Masud knew every person in the village. Helping the guerrillas transport weapons was something the villagers should do. Saha was usually very active, so why wasn't he here now?

"Elder, Saha is sick," a villager said.

Sick? No wonder. Masud felt relieved and said, "Saha is usually as strong as a bull. I didn't expect him to get sick. I saw him yesterday, and I'll go see him tomorrow."

Masud was talking to himself, but when Muhammad heard it, his heart sank.

This villager named Saha did not come to help them transport the weapons, which Muhammad did not mind. However, this villager was so strong and now was sick, and Masud said that Saha was fine yesterday but now was sick.

This illness seemed suspicious. No, he had to go and see! At this moment, Muhammad was relying entirely on his intuition.

"Elder Masud, it will take another half an hour to finish unloading the weapons. While we have the time, I'll accompany you to the village to see Brother Saha," Muhammad said.

Hearing Muhammad's words, Masud was a bit surprised: "It's so dark now. If Saha is sick, he should be resting. Brother Muhammad, it might not be convenient."

"Elder Masud, when I was in Pakistan, I learned some medical skills. You know, some illnesses cannot be delayed. I'll go and see. If Brother Saha has an acute illness, we need to send him out for treatment immediately," Muhammad said. "Let's go, saving lives is important."

With Khwaja organizing the unloading, Muhammad could relax.