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For soldiers, nothing is more tragic than defeat, except victory follows closely behind as a disaster.
If anyone doubts this saying, just take them to see the wounded soldiers' camp.
In order not to affect the morale of the troops with the sight of the wounded, the Paratu army's medical tent is set up in the most secluded corner of the main camp.
Late at night, inside the half-open military tent.
Several surgeons, like butchers, rolled up their sleeves and bustled about the operating table.
Rather than sharp scalpels and delicate forceps, they used saws and cautery irons even more.
The wails of the injured never ceased, chilling to the listeners' bone.
Amputated arms and legs piled carelessly outside the tent, some still with remnants of military uniforms attached.
The night was dark, and some people accidentally stepped on them, mistaking them for discarded wooden debris.