"Quick, quick... set fire, look for anything that can ignite the fire... burn all the food, not a grain of wheat here can be left for the British..."
Pierre stood on the wooden boxes piled high and commanded his mercenaries to start burning the food in the entire warehouse area. Barrels after barrels of kerosene were poured on the mountains of wheat, barley and oats, and sacks. The stacked grain stacks caught fire, and thick smoke billowed out from the doors, windows and gaps in the warehouse.
The cattle pens and sheepfolds where live cattle and sheep were kept were also smashed open. The barbaric mercenary bayonets stabbed the cattle's butts hard. The pained cattle and sheep screamed and ran wildly, while the mercenary's torches had Forcing the big animals to run towards the sea.
This is called the herd effect. The cows and sheep, frightened by bayonets and torches, couldn't tell the direction and the road at all in the dark night. The leading sheep and the leading cow jumped into the sea, and the sea surface crackled like dumplings. All animals.
Large animals such as cattle and sheep are not good at water. They may be able to flop around in shallow rivers for a while, but in the boundless sea, the only fate waiting for them is death.
Killing and setting fires are commonplace tasks for mercenaries, let alone slaughtering large animals. Directly bombing them into the sea and drowning saves energy and ammunition. In a short time, the sea is covered with a layer of cattle and sheep. corpse.
Seeing his mercenaries destroying things so efficiently, Pierre couldn't laugh at all. He was willing to be very simple because the warehouse was too big and he had too few usable soldiers.
Dublin is the center of British rule in Ireland. It is the largest cargo export port on the island of Ireland. Half of the materials exploited by the British are transferred from here to London and other areas.
120 tons of wheat, 100 tons of barley, more than 200 tons of oats, 200 tons of potatoes, more than 30 tons of bacon, barbecue, sausages, cured meat and other meat products, as well as thousands of cattle, sheep, pigs and other live livestock... these are just Dublin's export volume in half a month, Pierre came late. If the sneak attack had started last week, the amount of these supplies would have been doubled.
The warehouse area where grain is stored is endless, and they only have one hour in the plan. If it takes more than an hour, the British army and navy will all block it.
Fortunately for the Army, once an uprising breaks out across the Irish community, they are destined to fall into chaos. It will be easy for the mercenaries to escape. They are afraid that the Navy will intervene. Once the Navy blocks the sea, it will really be a trap. .
"Damn it, here are some more people. Are these Irish people crazy? Why are they all rushing towards the place where the gunshots are most dense?"
It's no wonder that Pierre was anxious. At this moment, this gold medal intelligence expert had just discovered that he had made a serious miscalculation. He had just patted his chest and promised that many Irish people would come to help set the fire after taking action. However, after he actually took action, Found out that's not the case at all.
I really underestimated the flames of hatred in the hearts of these Irish people. When the roar of the uprising shook the entire port area, the crazy Irish people actually rushed towards the most dangerous place.
The place with the densest gunfire is the most dangerous place. Their simple hearts just want to fight and kill more British people. As for Pierre's arson work, in their eyes, it ranks second. bit.
Choose the most dangerous battle, that's what a pure man is!
The operation had already started for a quarter of an hour, and there were only more than fifty Irish people gathered on Pierre's side, which made him feel extremely ashamed.
"If it doesn't work, we can only use limited troops... But what about the battle later? Without enough military support firepower, how can we stop thousands of British soldiers?"
"I can't take care of it anymore... Prepare* to expand the fire area and burn all the food to the maximum extent..."
"Fellow Irish! Have you forgotten that war? Have you forgotten the battle cry of the Young Ireland Party?"
"Irish food must stay in Ireland even if it is burned... We cannot let our descendants starve to death!"
"This is the main battlefield. Burn this food to declare to the whole world that the Irish will no longer accept slavery and we want the right to survive..."
The hoarse roar shook the old and weak people present. The Irish people who could not run and could not support the main battlefield suddenly recalled the miserable experience of that year. They stopped and looked at Pierre on the cargo box, his eyes filled with tears. .
Yes, that's it. When the Irish people were about to starve to death, a group of young people shouted such slogans, and they led us into the granary like today, burning every piece of food exploited by the British. A grain of grain.
Why can’t we eat the wheat produced by our Irish soil? Why should our most delicious beef be supplied to those murderers in London?
"Dear sir... just wait! We will let you see a miracle. Not a single grain of food here will be left to the British!"
The old men in ragged clothes and white hair turned around and ran away. At that moment they were as vigorous as when they were young.
Time passed by, and Pierre wanted to order the use of the last batch of weapons several times, but thinking about the battle that was about to break out, he held back.
Looking at the direction in which the old men disappeared in the darkness, Pierre didn't know if a miracle would happen, but now he could only rely on miracles to complete this arduous task.
"Sir...look...look over there!" The mercenary holding a torch suddenly pointed in the direction of the slums. Pierre took a closer look and saw that there were countless black shadows beating in the darkness.
"Did we really find reinforcements? That's great..." But when those figures appeared in front of him, Pierre's eyes suddenly became moist.
Unexpectedly, all the people who came were women and children, and at the end of the line there was even an old man who had difficulty walking.
The old man who was the first to report the news was out of breath from exhaustion. He pointed at the burning warehouse area, "That... that's our... our food... we can't give it to the British even if it's burned..."
"Burn him!" Young people with changing voices and even children with milky voices were the most enthusiastic. They rushed over in a black crowd, snatched away barrels of kerosene, and lit torches one after another.
Women have also joined in, including bucket-waisted aunts, young and beautiful girls, and even old prostitutes with heavy makeup. At this moment, they have long forgotten their identity and occupation. At this moment, they only know that they are Irish and enslaved. Irish for over seven hundred years.
"Burn it, burn it! The flames will burn it all, even if these are dinners we can't even enjoy on Christmas..."
"Burn it, burn it! Even if we can only eat dirty black potatoes in this life, we will not give a grain of food to the British..."
More than two thousand women and children rushed into the warehouse area. The torches formed long dragons in the dark night, and then each long dragon spread quickly, and the fire had already become a powerful force.
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