"A racer may not be able to drive a T-34, but a good T-34 driver can be a great racer!"

This is Lynn's joke in the early years when he was playing World of Tanks, he never expected that he would one day face such a fierce steel chariot on the real battlefield, and even worse, he had neither a "Tiger" nor a "Leopard" to control, and even the No. 4 tank had become a luxury. In this terrible battlefield, he was just an infantryman, armed with a Mauser rifle, carrying dozens of 7.92 mm caliber pointed bullets, and a bayonet in the scabbard attached to the belt, and nothing more.

The brutal battle continued, with grenades raining down on the T-34 and light and heavy firearms firing desperately, but with the exception of two "iron fists" and a few bundles of cluster grenades, the rest were like scratching the boots against Soviet tanks. The big guys with white paint mercilessly ran over the first trench of the German army, and the second trench, less than 30 meters apart, was where Lynn was!

In front of the tank, an ordinary rifle was tantamount to a burning stick, and Lynn was at a loss to pestle in a combat position, not flinching, but not continuing to shoot. At this moment, his mind went blank, in the game and in the novel, he imagined n ways to destroy the opponent's tank, but when he was in it one day, those ifs all turned into floating clouds!

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, a T-34, about 20 meters in front of Lynn's right, turned into a ball of fire, and the burning flames illuminated a large area, allowing him to clearly see the true details of a Soviet-made tank: the barrel proudly extended, the integrated turret, the wide and tall body, and the fenders, tracks, and steel wheels.

For a killing tool, it doesn't matter whether the craftsmanship is rough or not, the key is to be solid enough; It doesn't matter if you have a good or bad surname, as long as you run fast enough, turn fast enough, and go far enough, that'senough!

The enemy in front of him was killed, and before Lynn could burn a little joy in his heart, he saw another T-34 rushing up under the pull of the rapidly rotating tracks. The majestic momentum made the people standing on the opposite side of the battlefield fearful, and when the muzzle of the machine gun on the front of the car burst out with orange tongues of fire, the unlucky guy who didn't want to hang up like this finally bowed his head and shrank back into the trench at the first time, and he had already chosen to give up in his heart: if you are captured, you will be captured, the battlefield is really not something ordinary people can survive!

With a deafening roar, the first Soviet tank ran over the trench from a distance of less than 10 meters. Lynn sat weakly in the trench, looking sideways at the people who were also cowering at the bottom of the trench, and not far away there was a guy holding his head with both hands, looking even more cowardly than himself. There are also those who remain motionless, not knowing whether they have died in battle, or whether they have chosen to give up like themselves.

At that moment, someone scurried in front of Lynn, as fast as a gust of wind. Lynn looked at it, wasn't that a "butcher"?

The "butcher" had no time to reprimand his group of soft eggs, he bowed his head and waist, carrying a submachine gun in his left hand and a bottle of soju with fire in his right hand. When another Soviet tank ran over the trench, he suddenly slowed down and straightened up, a momentary pause that seemed to weigh the best moment. Suddenly, he threw the bottle at the back of the Soviet tank. After completing this action, he bowed slightly, staring at the tank with his eyes.

Lynn, who is less than 5 meters apart, is like sitting in a movie theater watching a 3D blockbuster during the whole process, which is clear and real. Two or three seconds later, a fireball rose from the back of the Soviet tank, which was about to leave the sight. Compared to the explosion that occurs after a shell hits, the fireball ignites with a much milder stance, and Lynn, who is keen on studying historical examples and likes to appreciate World War II blockbusters, knows that attacking the engine vent at the rear of the tank with Molotov cocktails is a more effective infantry anti-tank method, and if it goes well, it can cause the tank to stall. Just if you want to make a Soviet tank with a diesel engine explode, the chances are usually not too high.

Having attacked a T-34, the "butcher" did not intend to stop. He quickly ran north along the trench, picked up a bag from a corpse wearing a steel helmet with large ears in 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.

Lynn hurriedly turned her head sideways, but she couldn't see the figure of the "butcher" anymore. Although he was kicked by this guy five or six times before and after, he was a partner in a trench after all, and his lips were cold, and his heart was uneasy at this time.

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, a sudden loud bang came from the front of the trench, which shook Lynn's eardrums in an instant. Suddenly, someone rolled into the trench with hands and feet, and Lynn saw who else could there be but the "butcher"!

Looking at the "butcher" lying on the ground panting, Lynn could imagine the heroic deeds of this guy just now, in addition to admiration and gratitude, he was also curious about what this guy had in his head: treating his subordinates roughly, brutally killing opponents, and standing up at critical moments. Is this a realistic portrayal of the fighting spirit of the German army?

Just when Lynn's mind was full of doubts, the "butcher" got up with a sharp movement, patted the dirt, turned around, and then viciously glanced at his subordinates who were crouching or sitting at the bottom of the trench, waved his right hand angrily, and shouted in his mouth:

"Furseze Kovac!"

Hearing the call to fight, Lynn reflexively grabbed the gun and got up, and without thinking much about it, he stood directly on the stairs with the gun. In the line of sight, there were as many as twenty or thirty Soviet tanks that forced their way through the first trench, but the massacre of infantry by the tanks did not stop there. Molotov cocktails flew out of the trenches and other corners one after another, and several tanks 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 tanks were clattering and roaring, and the soldiers in steel helmets with big ears were desperately stealing from the flanks and backs.

The Soviet infantry that accompanied the tank attack had also rushed to the first trench, seeing that the soldiers wearing Soviet-made 1940 steel helmets were still pouring in, Lynn seemed to be suddenly enchanted, 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......

I don't know how long it took, but Lynn woke up from his sleep, and he was surprised to find that he had shot all the bullets he could find, but he couldn't remember how many enemies he had hit. Look ahead. The vast majority of Soviet tanks 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 blown up 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 blazing bonfires, illuminating the remnants of snow on the muddy ground.

Looking ahead, Lynn was even more surprised by the sight: the first trench was covered with corpses, and before the Soviet tanks stormed into the position, there were only large and small craters and mud! In the light of the fire, he could vaguely identify the corpses, most of whom were wearing Soviet steel helmets, earthy brown uniforms or white cloaks, and were probably killed by machine-gun fire. As for the brutal hand-to-hand combat, most of the warriors were in the first trench that had already fallen silent!

With heavy casualties already paid on both sides, the Soviet offensive continued. On the hillside in front of the first trench, twenty or thirty Soviet tanks were still rumbling. Their bodies exposed to flares were large and bulky, and the long barrels were equipped with huge brakes at the front, and the shells and bullets were not enough to stop them in the front, and every firing of the cannon made a deafening roar. Under the cover of these tanks, thousands of soldiers, wearing Type 1940 steel helmets with Soviet symbols, light-colored cloaks, rifles and **sand in their hands, rushed forward in Ula Ula.

This is called going forward and following forward, seeing death as home!

Two hundred meters or three hundred meters, Lynn could not tell the difference, and the rifle scale was still stuck at the 500-meter scale. He took out the bullets saved from several battles in his pocket, filled them into the magazine, pulled the trigger, pulled the bolt, reset, pulled the trigger, and kept repeating, pinning all the fears, fears, and confusions in his heart on these bullets, and shooting them forward......