Nicholas has recently become accustomed to some of his partner's Indian habits.

He watched as the young Indian who had finished his evening communications knelt on the ground praying, and then dotted strange dirt on his forehead and hands.

"Do you always carry this dirt with you?" Nicholas couldn't help but ask, he had been caring about this question for a long time.

"No, we believe that the soil in every place is a host of power, so when we get to a new place, we take new soil and process it in our way."

"Processing?"

The other party nodded: "Yes, maybe it can't be called processing, because there is no chemical reaction or anything like that, just stirring with herbs and water and soil." ”

"That's called processing. So you're using the clay here to process it and use it for prayer? ”

"Yes."

Nicholas nodded, and didn't ask any more questions, and the conversation ended. At the end of the prayer, the partner stood up and pulled up the Indian cutlass that had been stuck in the soil during the ritual and put it into the scabbard pinned to his boot.

Nicholas had tried the knife out of curiosity, but had found nothing better than a dagger. In fact, Nicholas's most trusted weapon in hand-to-hand combat was always his pistol. This is actually a very typical American way of thinking, and in fact pistols are more effective, unless the person with the dagger is close enough to shoot before Nicholas finds out, Nicholas will not give him a chance to do so.

Of course, pistols have a limit on bullets, and if all guns run out of bullets, Nicholas' favorite weapon is the sapper shovel, which is of moderate length and weight to wield, and the edge of the shovel is as sharp as a knife, cutting the human body in any way. Even if the edges are blunt, they can be used as blunt instruments.

In Nicholas's view, the Indian cutlass only had the value of being an ornament and a talisman. The dagger can also be used to cut the throat during stealth operations, which the scimitar shape can't do.

Thinking of these inconsequential things, Nicholas yawned, twisted to his feet, and said to his partner, "I'm sleepy, let's go back to the tent." ”

"If you're sleepy, you can go back to sleep on your own, I'm ......"

"Don't talk nonsense, follow me." Nicholas beckoned impatiently.

The Indians had no choice but to turn around, pick up the military uniform that had been placed on the ground before the ceremony, and walk towards it. At this moment, the sound of the engine came from a distance.

Nicholas looked up and followed the prestige.

"It's still repairing the tank so late, and the mechanics are really hard." The Indians spoke with admiration.

But Nicholas's brow twisted into a twist.

"Our engines all burn gasoline, and it's not the sound that runs like this, it's a diesel engine, and that's how the German tanks are."

As soon as Nicholas grabbed the Indians' arm, he ran towards the defensive positions of the station, shouting as he ran: "The Germans are coming!" Damn, didn't you hear the engine! Germans are coming! ”

"Calm Captain," cried the Indians, "there are no Germans here!" There are only yellow-skinned Chinese here. ”

"It's all the same! They have a full set of German equipment, and their tactics are also the same as those of the Germans, I know too well, combat readiness! Although Nicholas shouted loudly, the American soldiers at this station still looked like they were out of condition, and everyone stared at Nicholas, completely at a loss.

Nicholas ran all the way into the trenches, and the Indians he was dragging with him.

At this moment, the sirens of the station sounded, and all the American soldiers who had just watched Nicholas inexplicably started running, but it was obviously too late at this time, and the light of fire appeared in the desert outside the trench, and the shells of the machine guns and the shells of the 75 guns of the wheeled combat vehicles rained down on the station.

"One single-barreled 40 Bofors, one four-barreled 23-mm gun, two 75, this is just a platoon." With that, Nicholas reached out of the trench and shouted at the American soldiers who were running around under enemy fire, "The enemy has only one platoon!" Steady! Get ready to fight back! The enemy has only one platoon! ”

His words didn't have much effect, and the American soldiers were still scattering and fleeing. Nicholas cursed, crawled out of the trench again, and reached out to grab a passing soldier: "Go find the commander here!" There are two companies here, how can they be beaten by one platoon! Go to your commander and tell him that there is only one platoon of the enemy and let him organize the defense! ”

Before he finished speaking, a shell fell beside Nicholas, and the shock wave of the 75-gun high-explosive shell lifted Nicholas up, and then smashed heavily into the trench.

Nicholas felt like his spine was going to break.

He struggled to his feet, and then saw the soldier he had just caught falling on the edge of the trench, his eyes wide and empty.

Nicholas looked down and examined his body, but found nothing to be shot.

"The god of luck is on your side."

The Indians looked envious, but Nicholas retorted: "Fart, it will take care of me, it will not let me be attacked, and there is still a group of recruits around, even the commander is a waste!" ”

After saying this, Nicholas climbed to the outer edge of the trench, looked in the direction of the desert, and could see that the enemy's chariot was parked in the distance and continued to fire, without the slightest intention of rushing in.

"Oh, damn it, I'm really afraid of something."

Nicholas's muttering puzzled the Indians.

"What are you talking about, what's broken?"

"The German reconnaissance and sabotage detachment had two ways of fighting, one was to rush in directly in a car and use the impact of the car to create chaos and further muddy the water, and the other was to stop the car at a distance and suppress it with fire, and the infantry had already got out of the car and touched it before the car opened fire."

"But we just heard the engine ......"

"They'll get out of the car and hike before we can hear the engine, you idiot! By the time we heard the engine, their infantry had already reached the outer edge of our line, and maybe several lookout posts had already been killed! Now the Chinese infantry has definitely entered the camp. ”

Nicholas took out his pistol and hurried to the trench without having time to pick up his weapon.

Nicholas clenched his pistol in both hands and looked nervously at the surrounding Yiqiē, looking for possible Chinese soldiers.

"They may have entered the station from the other side of the direction of the tank attack." After a few moments, Nicholas whispered, "The counterattack has not yet been organized, probably because the chain of command has been disrupted by the enemy who has touched in, and the young major may be dead." ”

"Is it so exaggerated?" The Indians were incredulous, and he also held a pistol, and his face looked excited about his first experience of the battlefield - it seemed that he was the type who would get an adrenaline rush from war.

Nicholas glanced at the Indians and replied softly: "Yes, that's how the Germans killed the first platoon I commanded, also in the desert, and this kind of wheeled armored vehicle." ”

At this time, Nicholas finally heard the gasoline engine of the American combat vehicle, and it seemed that the mechanics had started the almost repaired Patton.

The next moment Nicholas saw the figure of Patton's chariot, which drove directly to the trench and opened fire into the desert.

Nicholas probed again, only to find that not a single of the enemy's armored vehicles was scrapped.

Just then Patton fired another shot, and this time Nicholas saw it clearly, and the shell landed in front of the enemy's armored vehicle, jumped on the ground as if it were drifting, and flew into the night sky without a trace.

If you think about it, the driver of the chariot is at most a mechanic with some driving training, and it is strange that he can be accurate at once.

Just as he was thinking that the enemy's counterattack hit Patton's frontal armor one after another, the outer surface of the armor that had been crumbled by the shells grazed Nicholas's cheek, leaving a long scar on his face, and traces of blood spilled from the wound.

Nicholas pulled the Indians up and ran along the trench in the direction away from the chariot: "If you stay nearby, you will be injured by something that flies, remember later, if the enemy's chariot is fighting with our chariot, don't run in front of the chariot, sometimes you lose your life for some reason." When I was in North Africa, my deputy platoon commander was blinded by a piece of falling armor. ”

As soon as he finished speaking, Nicholas heard the sound of rocket jets, which he was all too familiar with, and in the North African theater the Germans used weapons that could make such a sound to hit an unknown number of American tanks.

Nicholas probe, decisively, in the light of the fire, saw the strips of smoke left behind by rocket-propelled grenades (RPGs), which emerged from the darkness not far away, and finally reached the Patton.

Patton had a hole in his side armor, and in the roof above the hull, tongues of fire several meters high were spewing into the sky.

"Sure enough, the infantry has come in." Nicholas pushed the Indians against the side wall of the trench, gripped the pistol with the other finger, and stared nervously in the direction in which the rocket had just been fired.

Soon, Nicholas saw several figures rushing out of the shadows.

By the light of the fire, Nicholas could tell at a glance that the men were carrying German-made assault rifles.

In such a dark night, it is very difficult to identify friend and foe, and the elements that can be used to identify at ordinary times, such as the color of military uniforms, are not easy to use in this dark night, so identifying weapons has become the most important means of identification.

Of course, it was normal to pick up the opponent's weapons to use during the war years, but to do so without exception would have to bear the risk of being accidentally injured by friendly forces, so Nicholas knew that there were very few American troops who would pick up the Republican Guard's German-made assault rifles to use.

Nicholas raised his pistol, trying to knock down the one at the front of the group, but next to him remembered an angry shout: "Hands up, shoot or kill." ”R1148