The train clanged south on its way. The Rangers revere the strong, and Simon earned respect early on, nothing more than adding an extra title of Königsberg Grim Reaper, sharing cans, cigarette butts, and playing cards with each other to dilute the homesickness.

Simon got off in Philadelphia, not that he was from Philadelphia, but Simon hurriedly sold the gold-plated Tokarev, and finally went home, the victory of the war may be soon or maybe another ten years, no one can play a package ticket that will definitely come back safely, the world has no signs of improvement for the time being, and leaving more money for his family to defend himself is a little bit to make up for the regrets of being overseas these years.

But there were many battles, and the loot from the empire naturally dropped in price, and the antique shopkeeper was quite puzzled when he heard Simon indicate that he wanted to convert the money into gold. The Allies had advanced the front to the Oder, the Vanguard mechs were advancing at a speed of fifty kilometers a day, the Imperial army was crushed, and victory was no longer a luxury, but a real sign.

Since Simon was willing to pay the difference, the shopkeeper was happy to spend less and paid Simon two gold bars. Simon carefully hid it, bought a second-hand car with loose money, stepped on the accelerator, and sped home.

In the middle of the moon, the tranquility of Lone Pine Town was broken by the roar of cars, and a few dogs barked here and there, Simon endured the sourness that came up in his throat, walked to the small building, and rang the doorbell.

The small building was dimly lit, the door was cracked, and the old man cautiously looked at the young man whose face was shrouded in shadows, and said, "Who are you looking for?" ”

"It's me, Simon." Simon took off his military hat, rubbed his eyes, straightened his waist, and whispered.

The flames of war have reduced people to the sand and gravel of the shore, much the same. The old man shivered and took out his reading glasses from his pajama pocket and put them on, repeatedly confirming that this was not a dream, Simon bowed down, his head resting on his father's shoulder, and in the living room, his mother covered her mouth in disbelief.

Despite Simon's repeated insistence that he was full, his mother unquestionably demanded that he eat the freshly baked apple pie and lie back in bed where he had slept for eighteen years.

The town was small, and when they heard that the young man from the Hayes family had returned, the neighbors came to Simon and asked Simon how a cold death notice could soothe the pain and come with pure unrealistic hopes.

Simon picked a sunny afternoon and walked to the end of the town, where the town cemetery has suddenly become more and more headstones in recent years. Engraved with too many names that Simon had known well, Simon took off his necklace and gently placed it on a white tombstone, which was also the tombstone of his fiancée.

"Juliana Klein, born in 2032, died in 2052."

Modern warfare is moving towards intelligent technology, but bullets are still forged with gunpowder in brass shells, and helmets brushed with lightning or red crosses will not make them turn. Simon's forehead rests against the picture on the tombstone that is exactly the same as the one in the necklace, the difference is that one is gray and the other is vivid.

"I promised I would come back."

"Then why did you lie to me again?"

He wept bitterly.

Back before enlistment, I helped my aging father look after the shop, hunted a few birds at dusk, and climbed up to the roof to blow the cold wind. Fast forward to January 2056, when the Allied victory message snowflakes back home, and the Imperial flag fell from Königsberg, signaling that winning the war was really just a matter of time. Similarly, at the end of the holiday, Simon left behind the gold bars and ration cards, walked to the nearest transportation station, and took the train north, the war was still over, and he was still a soldier.

Back at the Boston headquarters, Major Lippmann counted the numbers and immediately led the Rangers aboard a scumbag C-141 transport plane, and it was not until he got on the plane that the major announced the end of the trip, Fort Kent, a military base in the Appalachian Mountains. Rangers with extensive combat experience will be assigned to the Reinforcement as non-commissioned officers, and no one will be allowed to leave the base until they have completed their training run-in.

Simon shrugged, this errand was unexpectedly easy, there was little training for recruits, and there were plenty of military supplies, compared to the days when his head was tied to his trouser belt, it was not too happy, and as for the remote part of the camp, what was it?

When the plane landed, Simon looked around Fort Kent, subconsciously looking for the best defensive position, and the rolling hills surrounded the base, hiding the main part well behind the mountain, which means that the enemy's every move, whether it is a surprise attack or a strong attack, will be exposed to the base detection. The mountain roads are winding, and it is impossible for heavy tanks to climb in, and the most convenient way to communicate with the outside world is by air vehicles.

Fort Kent was not small, as evidenced by its ability to take off and land medium transport aircraft, and the camp stretched to the back of the hills, Simon was a few steps away from the group, wanting to take a look, and before the base guards could find out, the major sternly stopped his curiosity.

"I must stress that the airport cordon must not be crossed in the area of daily activities, and many places in the camp have high secret clearances, which means that the guards have the right to shoot anyone who is considered suspicious, and I do not want to write a death notice within six months!" The major stared at Simon as if he was going to eat him raw, word by word.

"Curiosity, kill the cat!"

The atmosphere became a little heavier, but it came alive with the arrival of the next shipment, which was the new equipment delivered to the Rangers, the T-55L "Lancer" airborne mech.

In Emar Fortress, Simon piloted an unarmed T-51 "Blue Devil" mech, towing an XM204 ultralight artillery to bombard the ship's gun fortress and board the mech's fighting compartment. The mecha system intelligently fits the driver's nerve, and then cooperates with the inertial skeletal mechanism to achieve human-machine integration. Simon had worn a mecha a few times before, but he was not a skilled pilot with years of mecha training, so he was at a loss for the urgency carved into his bones, and the integrated operating system of the mecha was not something that could be done by just one person.

The first impression of the T-55 airborne mecha is that it is concise and clear, the armor is covered with broken camouflage, and the mecha designed completely according to the human skeleton can be able to unfold the driver's seat backwards, as if opening a cross-section, and it is enough for people to walk in. The traditional T-51, on the other hand, opens the upper body, and the driver has to find a stepping stone to climb into. The length of reaction time is clear at a glance.

Since the "Lancer" type airborne mecha has been "airborne", it means that the armor is not strong, in the demonstration, the T-55 is first defeated by the mecha external weapon, and the standard manganese steel halberd cuts through the cuirass in three or two clicks, as for the thermal/weapon defense. SIMON SAID THAT IT WOULD BE ENOUGH TO BE ABLE TO DEFEND AGAINST A 20MM RAPID-FIRE CANNON.

However, in real melee combat exercises, the T-55's performance can be called against the sky, and the weak armor has become an advantage before the super reaction speed, and the sensitive attack makes the traditional T-51 unable to defend itself, hitting the vital point in three or two moves. If it is said to be heads-up, the T-51 can still rely on the armor to resist solidly. But who will be mentally retarded on the battlefield to go heads-up, once the T-55 forms a scale, a more advanced computing module ensures the preemption of the combat logic, and in the squad battle, the T-55 has achieved a complete victory.

In other areas such as weaponry and mechanical reliability, the T-55 still prevails. As the heart of the mecha, the nuclear fusion core, the power source, is very simple, only the size of a fist. Compared to the Blizzard mecha of the Imperial Army, it is simply ultra-cutting-edge technology. The surging and safe power is enough for the T-55 to carry out the mission continuously for half a year.

The only thing that is not so good about the T-55 is probably that the combat logic system consumes the driver too much, just experiencing a full-load combat state for a few minutes, it is comparable to seven times in one night, Simon was out of the cabin at all, sweating profusely, his face was pale, and his mind seemed to be slammed with a hammer. The technical officer reluctantly notes that the mech still needs to optimize the combat calculation system.

Not only mechs, but also the newly developed weapons were not handed over to the front-line troops, but were made the first users by the rangers at Fort Kent. For example, laser rifles, pulse grenades, laser generators. Simon has little interest in these showmanship, who have not yet been brutally tested on the Eastern Front.

The next day, the recruits from Fort Benning's headquarters were lined up for training, and the old rangers were all specially promoted to their original ranks, which was a kind of comfort. Simon carried an extra olive leaf on his military uniform, and was promoted from private to sergeant in five years, which was rapid in peacetime and ordinary in wartime.

Despite the presence of about two battalions, Fort Kent still seemed empty, and after curfew, the GIs who had nowhere to vent their energy could not find the slightest pleasure, and naturally, there was a lot of rumours about the second half of the base, which was always closed.

The armory is the lowest level of speculation, and given the steady stream of new weapons being brought in for testing, the weapons development center is more convincing. The imagination of the GIs is extremely rich, what a general's private peach-colored entertainment center, the president's private bath, and some people swear to see the alien aircraft land in the middle of the night, and by the way, there is an alien invasion base. But regardless of the rhetoric, the unmanned turret next to the cordon is neatly organized, and you can try it.

In the past, Simon was in charge of a team of nine, but now he has more than 20 people under him, and Simon doesn't want to be too familiar with the soldiers, so as not to go out of the battlefield one day and lose a few voices and smiles. Over time, the new Rangers envied the D Platoon, because the D Row showed more mercy to Simon Hayes when he practiced.

Every week or two, a batch of new weapons will be shipped to test, and there is a gadget that Simon is very interested in, AATS chips, advanced auxiliary combat systems, after plugging into a microcomputer disguised as a watch, the system will carry out personality upgrades according to the user's skills in all aspects, which is equivalent to transplanting the combat logic system that only belonged to mecha to individual soldiers. It's a pity that after the scribbled visit, all of them were sent deep into the base.

But there are many tests, which makes people still feel that the airborne troops are equipped with M47 as standard and simple, Simon gradually withdrew from interest, although it is an airborne ranger, the airborne exercise has not been organized once, the airborne mecha is placed in the warehouse most of the time to eat ashes, the old rangers are a little puzzled, but the front-line good news snowflakes came, maybe it is not their turn to fight again, and the war will be over.

As a non-commissioned officer, Simon has the right to enter the war room to learn about the latest battle situation, the area controlled by the Allied forces has expanded several times compared to December last year, advancing from the west coast of the mainland to the eastern continent, and reaching the door of the empire in three months. Yesterday's news came that the Allied mechs had won the Battle of Staniskov, annihilating four of the Empire's mech divisions, and Ensign Astrid Lindgren alone had destroyed more than thirty Blizzard mechs. Simon remembered the mech painted as a black dragon under Emar's Fortress. It's really an all-metal slut, unstoppable.

Simon poked the map of Mosros, the capital of the Empire, Staniskov had fallen, and the door to the Empire was open, just a stone's throw away from the Empire's defeat.

Curiously, Simon inexplicably remembered the director's launch vehicle that had boarded the Overlord transport plane at Boston Airport a few months earlier, and he still remembered the disdain with which the Overseer looked at the Rangers as if they were livestock. Pick up the beer bottle and drink it all in one gulp, why bother about something unpleasant, even if it contains a world-destroying Tsar nuclear bomb?