The idea had just been proposed, and we didn't hesitate, immediately going to survey the terrain right at the foot of the mountain surrounding the camp. Bang beo had been in the village longer than I and had more experience digging storage cellars, so finding a suitable place wasn't too difficult. In the end, we chose a mountain hollow behind the cookhouse.
Very quickly, we gathered a few soldiers and started the work. Digging a cellar, aside from technique, was all about brute strength, and it just so happened I had surplus energy with nowhere to channel it.
After the sun climbed high, the temperature began to rise again. The long-sleeved shirt I was wearing was soaked with sweat. The other men had long since gone shirtless, swinging their shovels as they worked.
Bang beo looked at me, waved his hand, and said: "That's it, that's it, I can't. I'm about to collapse from exhaustion."
