Although Trode was very confident, the hit rate was too low, and he fired 4 shots before and after, and none of them hit, but the effort really paid off, and the fifth shell finally hit the target. Of course, that's what Hans told him, that with Trode's own eyes he couldn't see anything in the dark night. Since Hans still had to command, Trode had to ask Vincent for the specifics.

"Killed a Matilda." Vincent said with the corners of his mouth raised.

"So powerful?" Trood also felt a little interesting, and said with a smile: "Give me the gun, and I'll see what the hell is going on." ”

Taking the gun from Vincent's hand, Trode aimed his right eye at the ZF42 scope. Compared to a professional telescope, the scope of view was quite narrow, and it took Trode a long time to find the target they had just destroyed - a Matilda 2 infantry tank emitting a little black smoke.

And the British soldiers around it were looking for targets in a panic, of course, they couldn't find them. Not to mention that Trode was about 1,200 meters away from them now, so it could be said that he could not see anything in the dark. Moreover, the only shell that could be exposed was also fired upwards by the 'Tiger' tank, and fell into the enemy's formation through a parabolic trajectory, and in this vast dark night, the difficulty of finding a high-speed flying shell was no different from looking for a needle in a haystack.

Although this was a tactic that Hans had in mind, after all, Hans had never operated the Tiger tank himself, so his grasp of its firing angle was naturally not very clear. But in terms of difficulty, Trood also admired the gunners in the Hild crew, although after aiming, he only needed to press the pedal, and the shells in the barrel would be fired by the clicker without much effort. But I want to do what Hans asks. Facing a bright starry sky, firing an accurate cannonball requires her to have quite accurate control over the operation of the main cannon.

Ever since Hans successfully commanded the Tiger to hit the enemy's first tank, he had mastered the art of more or less mastering the following attacks, and after that, three more tanks were destroyed. While Trode and Vincent, who were watching from the sidelines, they had to be impressed, and although Hans was a bit of a nerd who was obsessed with the knowledge of book ideas, he had to be said to be a genius. During his time in the Trode Squad, he has more than once maximized a certain attribute of some equipment. Although in terms of the overall type, it may be a waste of equipment or overuse, but in some occasions, it can play an amazing effect, and now this situation is naturally the case.

Not counting the tanks that the enemy was still hiding behind the position, there were 7 tanks in the front line and outposts, and 4 of them had already been destroyed by Hans, and Trood wanted Hans to call it a day. But seeing that he was enjoying himself, he was too embarrassed to disturb him, so he had to go back to the car first and make contact with the supporting troops in the rear. Let's decide on the next step.

"What the hell are you doing?"

As soon as he got into the car, Natel asked Trode, who had been squatting here for half a day. Due to the need to cover the 'Tiger' for long-range fire, Trode's squad was scattered. However, Vincent and Trode's team were lucky, they were not far from the 'Tiger', but they still didn't know what kind of medicine Trode was selling in their gourds right now.

"It's all a trick that Hans came up with. He used the Tiger as a self-propelled cannon. ”

Trode shook his head and said with a smile, really, this kind of thing, if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, even if he said it to him a hundred times, he probably wouldn't have been able to remember it, so he didn't expect Natl to understand it as soon as they came up.

"Even if the enemy is indeed dense, at such a distance, the damage that can be done by using the parabolic play method is too limited for a tank." Roy said with some disdain on the side.

"Hehe, of course it's not convincing to hear me say that." Troud couldn't help laughing and said, "You can run and take a look now, I'm going to communicate with the friendly forces about the rest now, just to give you a vacation." ”

"Then we might as well be respectful!" With that, Yorkson flipped out of the car and ran towards the top of the dirt slope, and the others were not far behind, catching up with the uphill del.

Although Trode did want to contact the troops in the rear, it was not a secret after all, and it would not be anything for Yorkson to hear it, and conversely, if they were allowed to hear it, it would save Trode the effort to explain later. So such a thing naturally could not be a reason to give them a holiday, but Yorkson and they didn't pay attention to this, and their strong curiosity made them respond to Trode's mind and create a solo space for him.

At this moment, Trode was the only one left in the car, which inevitably made him feel a little lonely. He glanced down at his left thigh, where there were still a few strips of cloth covering the wound, and in the middle of the strips of cloth, a little red still oozed out. After touching it lightly with his fingers, Trode, who was in pain, immediately reflexively retracted his hand. He looked at the wound with some fear, to be honest, if it was a little more off the mark just now, his leg would probably be useless.

"Is that guy telling the truth?" Trode said with some self-deprecation, touching the scar on his forehead as he spoke, since the beginning of that incident, he seemed to be doing what he said, the uncertain factor of luck was rapidly declining.

Although many times on the battlefield rely on strength to win, if it is a large-scale battle, whether or not you can save yourself depends largely on luck. Trode began to get scared, for the first time in his heart, and he couldn't imagine how long he would be able to stand here when luck really ran away from him.

Looking at his trembling hands, he scolded himself for being useless, and then held the microphone tightly, the radio channel had been tuned to the frequency he wanted by him long before Roy ran out, and there was no need for Trode to make any more effort on his own. In fact, looking at Trod's trembling hands now, it may be difficult to do this.

After using an unknown amount of force, he finally pressed the button for the call (to be continued. )