Chapter 713: Significant effect, the egg that draws big cakes, title 3

"Fuck!"

"Have to think of a way!"

The chaplain held a cigarette in his hand, looking at the captain in front of him with a haggard look. "If you don't let everyone's emotions vent, the situation will definitely be worse!"

"Did you hear what that new lady said?"

"She said that everyone needs to do at least three psychological treatments. Can you believe it?"

"Three!"

"If you don't do something for them, they will all be withdrawn..."

"Did you fucking hear me?"

The chaplain took another puff of cigarette and threw the cigarette butt on the ground.

When it collided with the ground, the sparks splashed everywhere. The captain officer turned his head to look at him. "Does God know you are like this usually?"

The chaplain was stunned for a while before answering with a mix of anger and laughter, "I said I don't fucking want to come to the front line, you guys tied me to the car directly, do you think I want to be like this?"

He grabbed his hair somewhat manicly. "Don't say they are going crazy, I am going crazy too!"

The low and desperate emotions are contagious, and the bad war damage ratio makes every soldier in a state of strong uneasiness.

They don't know when they will be like their comrades, suddenly falling to the ground, without any warning, and without any psychological preparation, being shot down by a gun.

Died so suddenly, just like they came so suddenly, without any precautions.

The chaplain has been doing psychological counseling for the soldiers, but the effect is not very good. Every time a battle breaks out, many young people die.

They died simply, but left a lot of trouble for those who lived.

The chaplain felt that he was going crazy too. If he didn't think of any way, something would definitely happen!

In fact, the commander-in-chief of the front-line troops has been highly concerned about this matter. When he arrived at the defense section, the lieutenant colonel has been reminding everyone that if a soldier with suicidal tendencies is found, catch him and send him to the back.

Their nerves are also tense now. Psychological experts have made an assessment. Once someone stands up first and chooses to use suicide to escape fear.

Then soon more people will learn his method and end their uneasiness and fear through death!

This will be contagious!

At that time, apart from being sent to the military court, they have no other way to go!

But this kind of thing is just staring at it and it doesn't work at all. It is necessary to let those soldiers vent their emotions. What is missing now is this channel.

You tell them big truths, they all understand, but understanding doesn't mean they will do it themselves, and can let go.

The chaplain complained about how difficult his job is now, and the captain threw a small metal pot to him.

Holding it in his hand, this thing like a metal water bottle is cold and cool, and quite beautiful. "What is this?"

"Is it a water bottle?"

"Is such a small sip enough for anyone to drink?"

The captain had a smile on his face. "Why don't you unscrew it?"

The chaplain glanced at him, then unscrewed it twice, then a confused expression appeared on his face, and the unscrewing action slowed down, and finally started to speed up again.

The moment the lid was completely opened, he smelled a strong fragrance.

"Fuck!"

"Whiskey!"

"Fuck!"

He said two dirty words in a row, and with a smile on his face, he held the mouth of the water bottle and looked up. The wine flowed out and entered his mouth.

The wonderful experience brought by alcohol is like the gospel of God, and it relaxed his tense nerves in an instant.

He drank more than two ounces of wine in one breath, and then sat on the chair. "The taste is really good, it's just a bit less."

He looked at the small water bottle, his face slightly teasing. "You have great courage to bring the wine to the front line. If those old men know that you publicly violate the prohibition, you will be in trouble."

The chaplain didn't know more inside information. He still simply thought that the prohibition was really a decree issued for prohibition, and everyone was strictly observing it.

The captain lifted the cover of the box completely, and the neatly arranged water bottles were displayed

In short, his face was flushed red as he said, "Holy crab!"

"Where did so much alcohol come from?", he just wanted to grab another bottle when his arm was slapped away by the Captain.

"This is the latest military supply; didn't you say they need a medium to vent their emotions?"

"What do you think of a glass of wine?"

The priest took a deep breath, "It's fantastic; the person who came up with this idea is a genius!"

"But what about the prohibition?"

The Captain handed him a document, "It says above that we must respect the local laws of Slade, and there is no prohibition against drinking locally."

These explanations reminded the priest of the shamelessness of politicians; he whistled, "It's clear that the federal government really cares about this war."

He paused, "I'll help you move it out."

Soon, someone began to distribute the latest supplies.

The number of cigarettes was increased to one hundred, which is the amount for a week.

As for the alcohol, two portions were distributed directly, meaning two flasks per person. Bo'er looked at the alcohol in his hands with exhaustion; he unscrewed the cap with a numb expression, and then was attracted by the fragrance emanating from within. He hadn't really drunk much alcohol before, but inexplicably, his throat began to itch, he started swallowing saliva, and he desperately wanted to take a sip.

There were many soldiers who showed the same characteristics as him; some were drinking for the first time, and some were drinking for the who-knows-how-many-th time.

Rarely, at this very moment, the emotions of the soldiers in the trenches were relieved at a speed visible to the naked eye.

Alcohol was playing a wonderful role in their bodies, and the dead-silent trenches also began to undergo some wonderful chemical reactions because of the alcohol.

"You should light another cigarette!"

Someone told Bo'er that he should do so.

Bo'er lit a cigarette with skepticism; the other party performed the action of taking a big puff and then holding it in their chest.

He tried to do it once too, and then he felt a slight sense of dizziness; he hurriedly exhaled the smoke from his lungs.

Nicotine and alcohol began to "attack" the brain through the blood in a very short time, and his emotions began to fluctuate.

"Interesting, thanks for your suggestion!", he raised the small flask in his hand, "What is this thing called?"

!

Another person who was already tipsy suddenly chimed in, "Golden Lion, I know this brand; there is their wine in the bar, and the price is very expensive."

"Golden Lion Wine!"

Bo'er remembered the name, "It brought me some different experiences..."

People's emotions began to become vivid; these four ounces of alcohol were enough for some people who didn't drink much.

Some of them started chattering non-stop, some started crying bitterly, some curled up in corners as if they had become autistic, and some started arguing and fighting because they drank too much!

This scene, which clearly shouldn't have appeared in the trenches, not only appeared now, but the officers didn't stop it; instead, they breathed a sigh of relief.

The priest's face was slightly red, "One flask is too little, two flasks are too many; you should suggest that each flask can hold three ounces."

"I've noted it down.", the Captain said with a nod.

A relaxed expression also appeared on the priest's face, "Everything will get better!"

In fact, this was indeed the case.

Under the dual effect of alcohol and nicotine, people vented their emotions fiercely; those dark things were thrown out of their bodies like garbage, and everyone's psychological state was much better.

After Bo'er woke up, he felt much lighter, but soon he became nervous.

He vaguely remembered crying his eyes out, and then he had no memory; it seemed like he fell asleep?

Falling asleep after drinking too much during the day is absolutely a life-threatening thing!

His new partner saw him become so nervous and couldn't help but laugh and say, "The officer has already been here; he told us we can rest a little for these few days; the enemy won't rush up again so quickly."

Having repelled three waves of attacks, if the Dantela people still want to break through from the flank, they need to mobilize more troops.

After all, after they punched through the defense line, they saw that there were more federal troops behind the defense line!

They need to mobilize at least 50,000 or more troops to possibly punch through this defense line, and they have to do it as soon as possible.

Because new reinforcements are already on the way.

So in the short term, no new fighting will break out.

After Bo'er became partners with his new partner, they had hardly spoken, and this seemed to be their first normal exchange.

He said "Thank you" and then took out a cigarette.

On the battlefield, his nicotine addiction had become greater.

Actually, the officer told them not to smoke all the time because the enemy snipers could observe the smoke they exhaled, but there shouldn't be any problem now.

"That alcohol...", he didn't know if he had missed anything, so he asked.

His partner nodded, "Provided once every three days, but only one flask."

Although it was only one flask, it was better than nothing; for the first time, Bo'er felt that drinking was a very happy thing.

He was a bit embarrassed, sorry, and also a little guilty; he scratched his head and said, "Sorry, next time I won't get drunk again."

His partner bumped fists with him, "It's okay, I'll take care of you."

Soon, the report on the drinking effect of the company here was released hot off the press; the frontline command, the Department of Defense, the military, Congress, and the Presidential Palace all knew about this matter, as well as the subsequent positive effects produced.

Lanse immediately set off again for New Jincheng; this time he represented "Golden Lion Wine Industry" to participate in the Department of Defense's bidding.

Of course, before this, they had to meet first to discuss how to divide it specifically, and then how to bid.

Many people, especially those in the lower-middle class, always feel that they have no competitiveness in market behavior.

They guessed absolutely correctly; how could they have competitiveness?

The bidding here hasn't even started, but in fact, the result has already come out; what's missing now is just the allocation of specific market shares!

(End of chapter)