Working as a police officer in Mexico

Emilio Mora drew hard on his cigarette, hunkered down in the most cramped corner of the cave, curled up like a lobster.

Listening to the bombing outside.

His gaze was as still as an ancient well...

Or rather, he had anticipated this.

As one of the first "natives" to come to Socorro Island, he had extensive experience with bombings.

It would be strange if the Mexicans didn't react to such brazenness.

"The Mexicans are gone! The Mexicans are gone!" shouted a soldier from the Foreign Legion outside the cave.

Those hiding inside slowly peeked out, but Emilio Mora remained curled up, drawing from his experience.

There was no way the Mexicans would only strike once—they had to come back!

Sure enough, before long, the officers who had run out came rushing back in, their faces etched with panic.

The sound of bombing erupted outside again.

This cave was well hidden, nestled on the backside of the slope, impossible to pinpoint without a careful look; still, the repercussions of the heavy ordnance were shaking down ashes incessantly.

Emilio Mora became even more curled up!

Perhaps he would die here today!

The bombing lasted for over two hours, only stopping as evening approached.

It was then that the soldiers of the Foreign Legion emerged from the cave...

The area was a mess, huge craters everywhere, limbs and chunks of flesh strewn about.

You could even see nearby... a buttocks!

The lower half had been blown off.

"‌Ugh!!"

Some couldn't withstand the smell of blood in the air and the visual shock, and they began to vomit profusely.

Lieutenant Colonel Emilio Mora, his hands shaking and his face pale, looked seriously unwell, and then suddenly a hand landed on his shoulder. He shuddered and couldn't help himself; he crouched down and dry-heaved.

It was too horrific!

NMD, the Mexicans must have dropped at least 60 MK8 aerial bombs here, nearly five tons!

Many corpses were stuck to the ground; to remove them, you'd have to shovel them out with the earth.

Modern warfare is so cruel; you're gone without even seeing your enemy.

The psychological pressure was evident.

"Boom!!"

Suddenly, there was gunfire from the sea, and a shell flew towards the island, exploding on the beach, prompting a panic—a worry that bombing had started again.

"Everyone to battle stations! The Mexicans are coming!"

The soldiers quickly took up arms and went to fight.

Then they saw four or five vessels speeding towards the island from the distant sea horizon.

Emilio Mora lifted his head, the corners of his mouth still a bit filthy. He furrowed his brow, feeling something wasn't right. The Mexicans were firing shells from so far away, weren't they just giving the Spaniards time to get to their battle stations?

Were the Mexicans that stupid?

Engaging in a beach landing?

How many bodies would have to be sacrificed?

Only those who had faced the Mexicans knew; they were cunning, from tactics to strategy they were absolutely crushing. There had to be a trick.

"No, it's not right! Don't go to battle stations! Don't!" Emilio Mora thought of something and frantically stood up waving his hands; he even tried to jump onto a rock in front of him, but his foot slipped, and he tumbled down, even knocking his chin against a rock, his mouth full of blood.

His teeth were broken.

The officers next to him quickly helped him up.

"Print... hair..." he mumbled, blood filling his mouth as he spoke, tightly grabbing the other saying, but the officer didn't understand and thought he was just nervous, patting his shoulder and saying, "It's okay, the Mexicans can't make it up here."

Emilio Mora was near tears, pointing to the sky.

The officer looked up, somewhat bewildered, "What you're saying..." suddenly his eyes flickered, "What's that!"

They saw two planes emerging from the clouds above the island, dropping bombs.

The Mexicans' intent was just that, to use a feigned sea attack to draw them out into battle stations, and then... humanitarian annihilation!

The two planes belonged to the Lower California Air Force Base, flying C—130 transport aircraft, mainly to drop the BLU-82!

Buzzing～～

A 6,800-kilogram bomb dropped from the sky, gaining speed, compressing the air around it until it hit the ground.

A massive mushroom cloud rose!

The sound could be clearly heard for tens of kilometers around.

The pilot flying the C—130 glanced down below and felt as though he could sense the scorching heat rising to the sky.

The bomb, stocky and barrel-shaped, ugly in appearance, but as the saying goes, "Ugly but formidable."

The BLU-82 was also known as the "king of conventional bombs"!

Sometimes called an aerosol bomb, blast wave bomb, choke bomb, or oxygen-sucking weapon.

When the BLU—82 explodes near the ground, it can turn a radius of more than 500 meters into charred ruins, instantly vaporizing people, and the force of the explosion can be felt kilometers away.

The United States even said, one BLU—82 bomb was better than 20 Scud missiles.
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It was said that during the Gulf War, the U.S. Military dropped one, and a member of the United Kingdom's Special Air Service who witnessed the explosion thought the United States had used nuclear weapons, radioing back to headquarters, "Sir, these guys just nuked Kuwait!"

Used since the Vietnam War till now, still not retired, it surely has its merits.

After the two bombs were dropped...

The smoke in the sky lingered for a long time, trenches and defensive positions destroyed.

In the previous bombings, these were observed clearly. All it took was to deceive people into coming out, pinpoint and clear them, then it was time to clock out.