Muyang took out another cigarette from the pack and handed it to Wang Daxia, "You can smoke as much as you want here, don't worry, I've already arranged for cigarettes to be prepared for you. Even if you can't smoke openly, there will still be plenty of tobacco."

  "Really, officer, thank you so much. You have no idea how crazy we were to smoke, as long as there's tobacco it's fine, don't need cigarettes." Wang Daxia heard Mu Yang's words and immediately showed a delighted expression on his face.

  Wang Daquan lit a cigarette and continued to tell his story.

  Finally boarded the ship, it was that kind of lowest-level berth, a bottom hold crowded with over a thousand people, three people had to squeeze onto one bed to sleep, people were all stuck together like pancakes. Stopped in Hong Kong for 10 days, gathered into a fleet of more than a dozen ships, continued to set off, arrived in Singapore.

  "Our ship stopped at Singapore for three days, and the people loading coal onto the ship were all pitch-black, it was everyone's first time seeing them, later we found out they were black people, saying they were Africans. The ones transporting coal to the ship were all carrying baskets on their shoulders, it looked quite tiring, and also quite pitiful."

  Then began a month-long sea journey, during which some people got sick and no one treated them. When they died, they were carried out by others and disappeared forever, probably thrown directly into the ocean.

  These Chinese labourers disembarked at British ports, where they were informed by the British that they would be going to the battlefield to transport supplies and clear battlefields. Initially, some people spoke out in opposition, but they were quickly suppressed. In a foreign land thousands of miles away, these people did not even share a common language or writing system, and had no way of surviving on their own, so they could only follow the gang leaders.

  First he arrived in London, then took a boat to France, and after several transfers, more than three months later, he came to this battlefield where the sound of gunfire was still continuous and the war was raging, doing the most bitter, exhausting and dangerous work, and did it for two years.

  "You must obey military orders, wherever the front line goes, you will follow, to ensure the completion of tasks such as road repair, grain transportation, wood cutting, trench digging, engineering repairs, loading and unloading of weapons, ammunition transportation, battlefield cleanup... etc., otherwise, you will be dealt with according to military law."

  "You've come here, and even if you want to run away, you can't. There's only one way - work hard."

  That's what those British people said about them.

  Most of the Chinese workers were rural farmers who had just entered the military camp and did not understand anything, often receiving scolding and beatings from British officers, and some individuals were even imprisoned and physically punished.

  Many times, the German planes came in droves, dropping bombs and strafing, instantly turning the construction site into a sea of fire, the British troops retreated in disorder, but did not allow the Chinese workers to take cover, resulting in many Chinese workers being blown to pieces, or losing arms and legs, their cries and wails of pain sending shivers down one's spine.

  Wang Dabao's fellow villagers had been decimated over the past two years, and he was one of the lucky ones who managed to survive.

  Wang Daquan left Moye's office with a smile on his face, holding two boxes of cigarettes and one box of matches that Moye had given him.

  This might be what they call simple happiness, two packs of cigarettes made the person who survived on the battlefield feel extremely delighted.

  In fact, in the real history, many Chinese laborers were even more miserable than what Wang Daquan described. Among 140,000 or even more Chinese laborers, less than 110,000 people survived and returned home. The rest of them, except for a few thousand who chose to stay in France, all lie underground forever.

  Later statistics showed that fewer than 2,000 dead laborers were able to leave their names behind, while the tens of thousands of other laborers did not even have a tombstone.

  They were not only facing the artillery fire and bullets of the German army on the European battlefield, but also suffered from the abuse of British, French and American soldiers. They did the most arduous and dangerous work, but ate moldy bread, had no one to treat their wounds, could only wail by themselves, slept huddled in a corner, with no bed at all, and many people died of hunger, exhaustion and illness in foreign lands.

  It's like this, those Frenchmen, still deducted the wages of Chinese workers based on the original labor contract, and even used despicable financial means to deduct the wages of Chinese workers by taking advantage of exchange rate differences.

  Muyang thought for a long time and felt that he must do something for his compatriots, those Chinese laborers struggling on the line between hunger and death.

  Muyang took out a letter paper from the drawer and started writing.

  "Dear General Ferdinand Foch, I am Lieutenant Colonel Joseph Williams, Commanding Officer of the 1st Battalion, West Yorkshire Regiment, 21st Division, Third Army. I salute you first. What I want to talk about is some matters concerning Chinese laborers."

  In the letter, Mao Yang recounted the experiences of the Chinese workers and hoped that General Ferdinand Foch would give them normal treatment. Since they had been given rifles, they should be treated like soldiers, even if they were only transport workers, and should have enough food and a place to sleep, rather than being treated like beasts of burden.

  Even at times, they are not as good as those livestock, at least those livestock have breeders to take care of them, and hay and bean cakes will not be lacking. However, many Chinese laborers work hard with empty stomachs.

  After finishing writing this letter, Muyang thought for a moment and then wrote again on the letter paper.

  He also wrote a letter to the current British Commander-in-Chief, General Douglas Haig, with roughly the same content, hoping that his opinions would be taken seriously.

  Mu Yang put the two letters into envelopes and wrote the names of the two commanders on the covers. Then he called his own communications officer, Forte, "Take them to the regimental headquarters and have them help me forward them."

  Ford saw the name on the envelope and was shocked, but he didn't dare ask out loud, took the letter and ran to the team department in one breath.

  "Are you sure these two letters are addressed to the two commanders, sir?" The soldier from the battalion communication department who received the letter asked Fort with some disbelief.

  Ford said with a grin, "Of course, you know that Long is a noble and knows many upper-class people. What's strange about writing letters to the two commanders?"

  "Alright, I'll pass it on to the headquarters." The soldier who received the letter replied.

  In the late afternoon, Clay returned, bringing with him a letter from Etta.

  "Colonel, Aitai Shangxiao was very enthusiastic towards me and said that he regretted you didn't go personally. This is the letter from Aitai Shangxiao. Moreover, Aitai Shangxiao treated me to a big feast and some extremely delicious wine, which is said to be stored by the French, the taste is really good."

  When Claire spoke, there was still a faint smell of alcohol in her mouth, apparently this guy had drunk quite a bit.

  "Alright Claire, you've worked hard, go take a rest."

  Claire bowed and bid farewell, her smile still on her face as she walked away.

  Mu Yang pulled out a letter and read it. After finishing reading, Mu Yang's mouth curled up into a smile. Major Yu Jin, wait for me tomorrow.