The victory of the infantry against the infantry suddenly made the situation of the battle, which had been unpredictable, suddenly clear. The remaining Soviet soldiers retreated in panic around their tanks, trying to rely on the last two T-34s and one BT tank to block the onslaught of the German infantry, but this is exactly what the Germans wanted! Under the cover of their companions, the German soldiers armed with the "Iron Fist" and the "Tank Killer" quickly took position, these two weapons can effectively attack the Soviet tanks from the side and rear, but the fatal flaw is that the firing range is too short: the improved model of the former is only 100 meters, and the upgraded model of the latter is only 200 meters, all of which are within the effective range of the machine gun, and the author is very vulnerable to the killing and wounding of the enemy's accompanying infantry, so it is usually used in positional defense and field ambush warfare, and the most favorable attack situation is for the infantry to suppress the opposing combatants.

Standing next to a crippled truck, Lynn witnessed the entire process of firing the improved "Tank Killer", the RP54 88mm anti-tank bazooka. Unlike watching a movie or reading a text, this kind of personal experience is quite exciting - the difference may be like watching someone else ride a roller coaster compared to yourself, there is a qualitative difference in senses!

After the rockets were fired, the large German anti-tank infantrymen immediately retreated behind the truck with their bazookas with shields, and a loud bang erupted in front of them, and the strong impact set off countless large and small fragments, and the smoke and dust that were raised spread like fog. Another member of the anti-tank team, who was carrying the ammunition box, immediately took out the rocket, and the two of them cooperated tacitly to quickly complete the reloading, and at this time, another explosion of comparable strength occurred in front of them, followed by another slightly slight one.

The member of the anti-tank team in charge of loading his head poked his head forward and looked ahead, and then made a four-finger gesture to his companion, Lynn didn't know what it meant, only to see the fat soldier in charge of the "tank killer" dodge out with extreme agility, kneeling on one knee, the anti-tank rocket launcher was carried horizontally on his shoulder, he took three or four seconds to aim and adjust, and then fired the rocket again.

Rumble!

A powerful explosion shook the ground, and after that, Lynn suddenly heard someone shouting excitedly, the Soviet tanks had all been wiped out?

At this time, the gunfire around had not stopped, and Lynn did not dare to take the liberty of looking around, but tried to search for the figure of the "butcher", but there was smoke and dust everywhere, not to mention the face, even the figure was a little blurry. Lynn bowed slightly, leaned his rifle at an angle, and took a few nervous steps to the side, very slowly—and that's when the difference between a veteran and a rookie became apparent. At a very close distance, the bullet that had just left the chamber of the gun swished through the air, and Lynn suddenly felt that his left arm was hit by a "person", but there was no figure in the corner of his eye, and the position where he was "hit" immediately hurt hotly, and he couldn't help but be shocked: he hung the lottery!

The worst feared thing finally happened, and Lynn couldn't help but think of Huang Mao and his other comrades who had been wounded in the battle. Some of them died in this way, some of them were not too bad, and they stopped the bleeding and bandaged their wounds on their own or with the help of their companions, and if they were lucky, they were able to receive timely treatment from the medics, but many more did not see the medics until after the battle, when they may have bled too much and their injuries worsened.

Frightened and flustered, Lynn finally made the right response: he quickly crouched down and looked around, and soon saw that the shooter was crawling under a truck in front of him, and before the other party could manually reload the second rifle round, he aimed the gun as fast as he could - pulling the trigger!

Syllable!

With the butt of the gun slumped back on his shoulder, Lynn instinctively unloaded the gun and pulled the bolt, in fact, if the first bullet was missed and there was no companion to save him in time, or if the enemy had a submachine gun in his hand instead of a rifle, he would have died at this time. Fortunately, this did not happen, and less than 15 meters away, Lynn shot his head, and the Soviet soldier was lying face down, red blood seeping down the steel helmet onto the muddy ground.

Since ancient times, killing people pays for their lives, but Lynn killed an opponent on the battlefield this time, which is reasonable and innocent.

The left arm is still spicy and painful, but the feeling is gradually becoming clearer. Lynn knew that this shot should not have hit the bone, he mustered up the courage to look over, and there was a hole in the outside of the military uniform on his left arm, and the blood had not yet penetrated the clothing and flowed outside, so it didn't look too bad.

"Kill the pig! Kill the pigs! (German: Sergeant)

Lynn, who had retreated to the truck, finally began to call him "Butcher," as the soldiers called him—Lynn guessed that it was not his first or last name, but his rank or commander.

The gunfire from the front of the convoy was tight for a while, and then gradually thinned out, and just as Lynn was about to take care of the wound himself, the "butcher" appeared, still holding his sleeves high, carrying a submachine gun in one hand, and his body was full of murderous energy, presumably many Soviet soldiers became the ghosts of his guns. Seeing Lynn's appearance, he put away the fierce look on his face, strode over, bent down and tore the sleeve of Lynn's wound, glared at Lynn in a little surprise, took out a flat metal pot from the big pocket of his jacket, unscrewed it and poured it down according to Lynn's wound, a sudden stinging pain came from the wound on his arm, Lynn endured it and did not scream, but the expression of the bared teeth was once again despised by the "butcher", he said two words "Moul", and Lynn did not dare to have any response.

After simply cleaning the wound and not even bandaging it, the "butcher" got up and left, and looking at his posture with a submachine gun, Lynn felt more and more that the defeat of the war was to blame the strategic choices of the upper echelons rather than the army itself.

The sparse gunfire died down in a few moments, and the battle was over! Lynn cautiously walked out of the truck, only to see that the seven Soviet tanks in front of him had all turned into scrap metal piles, one of the three armored vehicles had overturned on the side of the road, two had been directly exploded by artillery shells or anti-tank rockets, and the trucks behind had been hit by bullets and shrapnel without exception. The corpses of Soviet soldiers were all over the place, and the postures of the dead were also strange. About thirty or forty people had no choice but to surrender with their hands raised, and the German soldiers were driving them to pick up pieces of weapons and guns scattered around.

At the sight of him, Lynn stood a little bewildered—with no experience or knowledge to tell him what he should do at this point. Of course, there were also the remains of their comrades around, but there was a rare relief on the faces of the victorious German soldiers, and in general, it was a beautiful and successful ambush, but the victors did not have time to celebrate. In addition to treating their own wounded, what they did was to select what they could use from the weapons and equipment left by the Soviet soldiers, and look for dry food and canned food from them, the few Soviet-made guns towed by the truck could not be taken away, and there were some ammunition boxes in the truck's compartment, which the German soldiers carried down and piled around the cannon to prepare for explosion.

"Hey, Lynn!"

A thin, tall big ear took a handful of ** sand in his hand along the steel helmet, and also carried a handful on his back, he took a few steps to Lynn's side, and threw the ** sand in his hand vertically. Lynn was injured in his left hand, and he was still holding a Mauser rifle in his right hand, but with the technical reaction of an amateur goalkeeper, he quickly squatted down and just picked up ** sand in his arms - it was the hard pain of the butt of the gun in his left abdomen.

Lynn couldn't name the man, only that he was a "butcher's" subordinate like himself, and he didn't know what his friendship was. So after getting the gun, he just smiled at the other party. The man grinned, and threw over the drum bag and a large piece of bread that the Soviet soldier had used to spare the drums. The former can certainly solve Lynn's worries about ammunition, but the latter is clearly what he needs most now. Holding the hard bread, he wanted to fill the empty stomach immediately, but seeing that everyone was still busy, he just tore a small piece and stuffed it into his mouth, put the rest in his pocket, and then chewed while carrying the Mauser rifle on his back - it is said that the sand was one of the sharpest individual weapons in World War II, and it was much more powerful than a manual rifle at medium and close range, but Lynn had been used to the Mauser rifle for the past two days, and still felt that it was more convenient in comparison.

In any case, a burst of weapons can always be useful at a critical moment, Lynn fiddled with this simple but not simple submachine gun, suddenly heard some noise ahead, and looked up, some German soldiers were driving the Soviet prisoners of war to one place, while other German soldiers were far away, forming an irregular arc. By the time all the POWs had been gathered next to a truck, individual POWs seemed to understand something and roared angrily, while other POWs quickly joined in. Lynn didn't know Russian, but he clearly heard the phrase "fascist", and the scene from the movie came to mind - the sound of German soldiers pulling the bolts immediately confirmed his bad guess, and before he could say or do something, the sound of gunfire rang out in a coherent and crisp manner, like the sound of heavy raindrops on tiles in a rainstorm. It lasted only four or five seconds, and by the time the gunfire had stopped, the truck was covered in blood.

Lynn was stunned, the bread that had not yet been swallowed was like a stinging throat, and dozens of fresh lives disappeared in such an instant, if it was a frontal battle, it would be just a battle, but such a simple and complete killing caused an unprecedented shock to the vision and soul, the German soldiers who were shooting or watching just now had the SS and the Wehrmacht, and they all looked indifferent at this time, which made Lynn fall into deep confusion and reflection: Could it be that the meaning of war is the merciless slaughter of people and people?