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Squeak......

With the screech of brakes, the truck came to a screeching halt. Driven by his habitual surname, Lynn didn't have time to reach out for support, and slammed his upper body to the left on the hard carriage board, resulting in the pain in his injured left foot, and his left elbow and left shoulder were numb again, but at this time he was more worried about the fate of this commando team than himself. The position of the truck at this time is very close to the Soviet tank assembly area, although parking can allow more of its own soldiers to evacuate, but it has also become a live target for enemy guns, any Soviet tank can kill this car of people with one shot, and a string of machine gun bullets can also shoot through the tarpaulin and baffle like a sickle to collect life. Such an extremely risky move really shouldn't be done by a battlefield commander's surname!

After the car stopped, several more soldiers climbed into the carriage in just a few seconds, and they were all walking into the carriage, but Lynn moved backwards against the edge of the carriage, he picked up the submachine gun again, and glanced out with a cold gaze, ready to shoot as soon as he saw the Soviet soldiers approaching, but what he saw was a scene that he will never forget: two "Night Warriors" who did not carry a square box spontaneously blocked the rear of the hall with several "miscellaneous soldiers", one of the "Night Warriors" shot in the middle of the game, he roared and told his companions to evacuate first, He stubbornly tilted his head and neck, holding the assault rifle in an almost full posture and firing repeatedly, and the two miscellaneous soldiers dragged him forward one left and one right, but when a shuttle of bullets came, they fell instantly, and only the "Night Soldier" was still stubbornly shooting......

Before they had time to take everyone with them, the two trucks re-accelerated and eventually rushed out of the village, speeding along the road, leaving the village behind it in flames and smoke, and the sparse sound of gunfire and sporadic explosions was still clearly heard. Sitting near the back of the car, Lynn's mind went blank, and he couldn't find a better word to describe the scene just now than to be heroic.

Turning his head to look back, there were still twelve or thirteen people in the compartment of the truck, and two of the four "Night Warriors" were carrying square boxes. If the other truck were in the same situation, and if you added the one sitting in the cab, the loss rate of the German side in this battle was only about 40 percent. In the current state of war, the fifty German infantry were actually far beyond their capabilities - except for the 15 "Night Warriors", the rest were ordinary soldiers with no special operations experience, and they were probably randomly selected by the officers in the trenches like Lynn. Just looking at the battle loss ratio, what else can people complain about?

After sitting dejected for a while, Lynn finally remembered the cigarette in his pocket, took it out and took one in his mouth, although the soldiers next to him did not cast a look at him, but Lynn still consciously shared the only half of the pack of cigarettes with his companions who were born and died together.

The cigarette pack was not returned to Lynn's hand in the end, which made him feel better in his heart, and silently closed his eyes, if the battle was like in the movie, he would rather open his eyes again when he was back in the cold and muddy trenches, but reality is reality after all, a cigarette has not been half smoked, and the flares that bloom in the air and the vision that is lit up in an instant are reminding these German soldiers that they are far from escaping!

The shells from the direction of the village then whistled down, and although the first few rounds were not threatening, it at least indicated that the Soviet unit had begun to fight back strongly. After the battle in the village, Lynn was still unsure of how many Soviet tanks and self-propelled guns had been parked there, and only knew that he had destroyed one, and based on the similar explosions before and after, the German assault force may have destroyed more than two dozen tanks and a small number of self-propelled guns - even if all of them were badly damaged or directly damaged, the Soviets still had a lot of armored fighting vehicles at their disposal.

The flares provided guidance for Soviet artillery fire, but they also illuminated the otherwise dark road, allowing the two trucks to speed up with their lights off. The oncoming air violently shook the tarpaulin, and the dark road retreated rapidly under the wheels, and with his own lack of experience, Lynn estimated that the speed of the truck had reached seventy yards per hour, and perhaps even higher, which was contrary to the impression of military transport vehicles that always moved at a flat or even slow speed during World War II, but considering that the car was not carrying heavy loads at this time, and the Dodge and GM trucks were both civilian vehicles before the war, it was not surprising that the speed of the car was not surprising.

The shells sometimes crossed the two trucks and landed on the side of the road in front, sometimes screaming and falling into the nearby fields, and occasionally one or two pieces of shrapnel hit the tarpaulin and made a "whoosh" sound, which immediately made the soldiers in the carriage panic, and the ensuing huge explosion shook people's eardrums. After a while, presumably a shell landed on the road ahead, the truck swerved sharply, and under the powerful habitual effect, the inclined body almost rolled over on its side, and the soldiers in the compartment almost rolled into a heap. After a while, the two trucks finally made a big turn—seeing the corner of the woods behind the trucks, and the burning village disappeared from sight, and Lynn knew that the truck had crossed the pine forest and entered the wilderness, which had taken nearly an hour to walk.

Once they had bypassed the woods, it was easy for the Soviets to use their direct-fire artillery around the village, but how could the Soviets, who were attacked by dozens of German soldiers before they went to sleep, have an unprecedented self-confidence to give up? The vengeful artillery fire stopped rear-ending, and high-curved flying shells began to fall over the trees. It's just that there is no real-time correction of the calibration, and there is no battlefield data link transmission that does not belong to this era, such shooting is like a random stick hitting a fly from the beginning, but the flares can always accurately find the position, and always circle the two trucks speeding on the highway within the bright area.

Sitting in the back of the truck, Lynn was able to witness the spectacle of shells falling into the field one after another. The bright yellow flames peeked out of the gaps in the black smoke and mud, and the muddy and muddy sand that splashed and scattered reminded him of his childhood prank of hitting rice paddies with stones, which seemed ferocious, and as long as the shells did not fall within ten meters, they would not pose a mortal threat to trucks - but the battlefield could never be measured by "should" and "shouldn't". Lynn was looking out of the car, there was a sudden chaotic movement in the carriage, he quickly turned his head, only to see two "Night Soldiers" wearing brown-gray M42 and dark pea camouflage combat uniforms had flattened a convulsive "miscellaneous soldier" face down, this guy was injured in the back, judging from the position he was sitting just now, it was likely to be caused by shrapnel that penetrated the carriage board, once this low-probability event happened, the person who was shot could only consider himself unlucky.

Despite not knowing each other and communicating with each other little along the way, the two "Night Soldiers" were still very serious about treating the ordinary SS soldier. The one on the left shouted and waved for the person sitting at the back of the car to pull the tarpaulin tightly, and the one on the right took a flashlight from his pocket. The moment the flashlight lit up, Lynn saw that the SS soldier's lower back was already blurred, and the torn wound was in the spine, which meant that even if he could save a life, he would probably have to spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair.

The "Night Warrior" on the left quickly took out a leather pouch from his body, and after unzipping it, Lynn vaguely saw a pocket syringe and some small metal devices, knowing that he only had a pack of hemostatic cotton, a roll of bandages and a few pills of unknown purpose on his body when he "appeared", which was a simple mess in comparison, and after using the hemostatic cotton to treat "Huang Mao", the remaining bandage pills on his body were not enough to deal with such a trauma. But was walking with the Night Warriors a lucky fortune in the SS soldier's misfortune?