With a bite of his teeth and a cross of his heart, barely taking aim, Big Max slammed his shot, his eardrums ringing slightly.

A few hundred meters away, in a field, a soldier wearing a German-style steel helmet and a yellow-green camouflage combat uniform fell on his head. Judging by the attire, it was either an Englishman, or an Irishman, or a Welshman.

It was indeed a civil war for the Britons!

Three rounds were fired in quick succession, and Big Max retreated into the trench again, gasping for air. The strange smell of gunsmoke and earthy smell weighs on the nasal cavity and lungs far more than an overcrowded smoking room. Big Max deliberately slowed down the reloading and deliberately turned a deaf ear to the increasingly clear shouts of kill, but the officers' slogans became more and more urgent, the sound of gunfire and explosions came after another, and grenades seemed to come in handy, and nine times out of ten, a brutal white-knuckle battle would break out on the defensive line. None of this is something Big Max can grasp at all.

After loading the bullets, he took a deep breath and was about to get up, when the soldier next to him suddenly sat down. Big Max wanted to give him a sympathetic wry smile, but when he saw the soldier's bloody face, the whole person suddenly froze.

Before he came to this muddy field that had been devastated by countless artillery fire, he had never felt that life and death were so close.

Out of fear of death, Big Max wanted to play dead directly, but the intimidating power of the Japanese overseer was better than the enemy after all, and several soldiers next to him honestly returned to their respective combat positions, and he had to follow back to the combat positions.

The sound of the rifle was scattered against the short fire of the machine gun, and in such an environment, no one knew whether their bullets killed the enemy, perhaps they were missing, or perhaps they added an inconsequential shot to the dying body. Even so, the soldiers, wearing threaded, cloth, or leather gloves, pulled the bolts, aimed, and fired, repeating these movements mechanically until they had exhausted all the bullets in the magazine, and then were able to crouch down and reload without being reprimanded.

As if the coalition forces were about to wipe the position off the face of the earth, countless shells and bullets rained in on the ground, sand and severed limbs flew in the air, and the air waves mixed with mud and debris showed their violent nature. The powerful chariots rushed to the first trench like ghosts, and the minefields cleared by artillery fire had been left behind them!

The Scottish Army claims to be armed with a thousand vehicles, but since the battle began, Big Max has not seen a single vehicle with the St. Andrew's Cross emblem.

Not a single one!

How can Scotland's weak industry and uncompetitive business create and sustain a large modern armoured force? Not to mention the performance of the chariots left behind by the British army, after more than ten years, it is still a big question whether they can find matching parts, after all, the industrial facilities of the British Empire were either reduced to ruins in the war or taken away by the victorious powers, leaving nothing for the divided British countries at all.

Seeing the fierce Japanese Warlord approaching again, Big Max reflexively got up, holding his gun and preparing to fire, he immediately witnessed a brave defender soldier fire at the side of the enemy tank with a rocket launcher at close range, the rocket exploded the tank, but the soldier was immediately hit by the machine gun of another enemy tank, the machine gun bullet mercilessly pierced the brave man's chest at close range, and the blood splattered from the back was so shocking!

The brutal battle continued, grenades raining down on the enemy, and light and heavy firearms were firing desperately, but the rest of the weapons seemed to have no effect on the big guys with camouflage paint except for bazookas.

In front of the chariot, an ordinary rifle was tantamount to a burning stick, and Big Max was at a loss for what to pestle in a combat position, not flinching, but also not continuing to shoot.

Pound ......

Explosions at close range sound very different from those at a distance away. The heat wave is fast approaching, and the tiny debris makes the exposed skin feel stinging. In the blink of an eye, about forty or fifty meters in front of Big Max's right, a "Teutonic Knight" burned into a ball of fire.

The enemy in front of him was killed, and before Big Max could ignite a little joy in his heart, he saw another "Teutonic Knight" rushing up under the pull of the rapidly rotating tracks. The majestic momentum terrified the people standing on the opposite side of the battlefield, and when the muzzle of the machine gun on the front of the car burst out with orange tongues of fire, Big Max, who did not want to die, shrank his head and hid back at the bottom of the trench.

The next scene made him dumbfounded. I saw the Japanese war overseer with his head bowed and his waist bowed, carrying a submachine gun in his left hand and a bottle of soju with fire in his right hand. When another enemy vehicle ran over the trench, he suddenly slowed down and straightened up, a momentary pause that seemed to weigh the best moment. Suddenly, he struggled to throw the bottle out of the back of the enemy tank. After completing this action, the body bowed slightly, and his eyes were fixed on the chariot.

Two or three seconds later, a ball of fire rose from the back of the enemy tank, which was about to leave sight.

After attacking a "Teutonic Knight", the bloodthirsty Eastern warrior did not intend to stop. He quickly ran north along the trench, picked up a bag from a corpse in a steel helmet with one hand, and turned to crouch over the edge of the trench and look out. A moment later, like a black cat with a mouse in sight, he crawled out with great speed and dexterity.

The sound of gunfire and explosions outside the trenches was still intense, and the flickering of fire was not known to have come from grenades, shells, or incendiary bombs. After a full two minutes, there was a sudden loud bang in front of the trench, which shook Big Max's eardrum in an instant. Suddenly, someone rolled into the trench with hands and feet, and Big Max saw who else could there be but the Japanese who was born for war!

Looking at the Japanese lying on the ground panting, Big Max could imagine the heroic deeds of this guy just now, and in addition to admiration and gratitude, he was also curious about what this guy had in his head: treating his subordinates roughly, brutally killing his opponents. Is this a realistic portrayal of the fighting spirit?

Just when Big Max was full of doubts, the Japanese warlord got up with a quick movement, patted the dirt, turned around, and then viciously glanced at the soldiers who were crouching or sitting at the bottom of the trenches, waved his right hand angrily, and roared: "What are you stunned about? Waiting for the enemy to come in and kill you? Shoot! Get me up and shoot! ”

Hearing the call to fight, Big Max reflexively grabbed the gun and got up, and without thinking much about it, he directly stood on the steps with the gun. As far as twenty or thirty enemy tanks forced their way through the first trench, but the massacre of infantry by the tanks did not stop there. Fire-carrying ****** flew out of the trenches and other corners one after another, and several chariots were already on fire, scurrying like mad bulls with their tails on fire; Some of the fire was not yet large, the machine guns on the chariots were clattering and roaring, while the soldiers in round-brimmed steel helmets were desperately trying to climb from behind the flanks.

The enemy infantry attacking with the chariot had also rushed to the first trench, seeing that the enemy soldiers wearing gray German-style steel helmets were still pouring in, Big Max seemed to have suddenly fallen into a demon, completely undisturbed by the bullets and shrapnel flying around, and his shoulders were like a rock against the butt of the gun, quickly pulling the bolt, shooting, pulling the bolt, shooting, and the figures dozens of meters away suddenly fell backwards. When the five rounds ran out, he crouched down slightly and quickly reloaded, and so on, firing five rounds, followed by five more......

After an unknown amount of time, Big Max woke up as if from his sleep, and he was surprised to find that he had all the bullets he could find, but he couldn't remember how many enemies he had hit. Look ahead. The vast majority of enemy combat vehicles that rushed into the position had been turned into scrap metal, and some of them were obviously deformed in appearance, and it seemed that they had been directly exploded by anti-tank guns or anti-tank rocket launchers; Some hatches were wide open, and several corpses were scattered around the body and around the body in various strange postures; Others turned into roaring bonfires......

Looking ahead, Big Max was even more surprised by the sight: the first trench was covered with corpses, and there were only large and small craters and mud before the enemy tanks rushed into the position!

With heavy casualties already paid on both sides, the enemy offensive continued. On the hillside in front of the first trench, twenty or thirty enemy chariots were still rumbling. They were large, stiff, and equipped with a large brake at the front of the long barrel, and the shells and bullets were not enough to stop them in the front, and every firing of the cannon made a deafening roar.

Two hundred meters or three hundred meters, Big Max could not tell, and the scale of the rifle remained at the 500-meter scale. He pulled out the bullet clip from the bullet belt, filled the magazine, pulled the trigger, pulled the bolt, reset, pulled the trigger, and kept repeating, pinning all the fear, fear, and confusion in his heart on this bullet after bullet, and shot forward......

After an unknown time, the gunfire gradually subsided, and Big Max lay on the edge of the trench in despair, staring vacantly ahead. A line of defense without tank support, no fighter cover and even lack of heavy artillery support actually withstood a wave of fierce attacks of the enemy, in sight, there were forty or fifty destroyed and damaged and abandoned tanks, is it really as those Japanese said, the enemy is not as strong as imagined, their soldiers are afraid of war, afraid of death, as long as the Scottish army shows a fearless fighting spirit, the enemy's offensive will be like a wave meeting a seawall, even if the waves are monstrous, in the end they must obediently retreat.

"See? Well! See? "Your enemies are nothing but a bunch of reckless and stupid fellows, with no tactical skills to speak of!" If the Japanese army were stationed here, just a counterattack would have allowed them to withdraw to the border, but unfortunately you are also cowardly, lack courage, have no confidence, and some people have just hid under the dirt from beginning to end and shivered, shameful, shameful! ”

The soldiers looked at each other, but Big Max reacted, their company commander disappeared in the battle just now, and now he appeared with a face full of mud, it seems that he is the one who is ridiculed and scolded by the Japanese!

(End of chapter)