If it weren't for this war, Ron would now be tending to his family's land, waiting for the harvest that the land would bring in the fall. Pen × fun × Pavilion www. ｂｉｑｕｇｅ。 InfoBut there are no ifs in this world, Ron, who is twenty-three years old this year, has been in the army for five years, and as soon as he became an adult, he was dragged out of that small farm by vicious recruiters, caught up with the wagon, and went straight to the front.

Just in time for the war to heat up, Ron's unit was scattered, and Ron, as a survivor, was constantly reorganized into new units, disappearing from the battlefield one by one, and the names of the troops to which Ron belonged kept changing, and the only thing that remained the same was Ron, the lucky one.

One year is a veteran, and Ron, who has survived on the battlefield for five years, is a super veteran, but because he is just an ordinary civilian, Ron has not been treated accordingly, he is currently just an ordinary sergeant. A sergeant at the lowest level of the 15th Regiment of the Seventh Army in Germania, with an indefinite number of large men under his command.

According to the regulations, Ron was supposed to have twelve men, but since he had been promoted to sergeant, there were nine men at the most, and only two at the least. However, Ron didn't care about any of this, he just wanted to live to see the war end and return to his hometown safely to inherit his family's land.

There is a big operation today, Ron got up early to prepare, the dense fog in the late autumn morning has not yet dissipated, only after the sun comes out can you feel a little warm, the wintering materials have not been sent down, Ron wondered if he prepared a little in advance, according to past experience, wait until the logistics department will send the winter clothes down, the winter is almost over.

The trench was freshly dug and damp, and Ron didn't mind it at all, thinking about how to survive the winter as he took out today's breakfast from his pocket. A can of food, a slice of dry bread, and a last bit of butter, sat down against the trench, and the new rifle in his arms, and Ron began to eat.

I don't know when this meal will finish the next meal, so Ron eats more than half of the ration given in advance, so that he won't go hungry in today's battle.

This thing called luncheon meat is very greasy, and it has such a name even though there is no meat, and there is a lot of flour in it; The bread is very dry, and it would be nice to eat it with a little hot soup. Ron doesn't care about the taste of food, these bad things can provide him with enough energy, this kind of treatment is already very good, compared to the year when he first joined the army, he often went to the battlefield hungry.

The food is a little dry, Ron wants to find some soup, the kettle on his body is absolutely not to touch, a sip of water on the battlefield can save his life, at this time he can only go to the back to see if there is a gang. At this time, soldiers got up for breakfast one after another, and many new recruits were complaining about the food problem.

Listening to the complaints in his ears, Ron smiled disdainfully, and only in such a "holiday war" can these recruits survive, and five years ago, most of these people did not survive the first night on the battlefield. In his opinion, such a low-intensity, well-supplied battle can only be regarded as a vacation, so what is there to complain about so leisurely!

Not to mention...... Ron looked at the rifle in his arms, they had changed into new equipment, this weapon was so well received that now the battle had turned into a hunt, and after a few battlefield experiences, Ron felt more confident about going home.

It's good, someone broke the rules to make a fire, Ron cheekily asked for a bowl of hot soup, and used the hot soup to wash down the last bit of food, feeling the warmth rising in his stomach, and Ron patted his stomach comfortably.

Back at their posts on the front lines, Ron's unit was the 1st Attack Group, and they were responsible for taking the lead. Ron looked at the bullet box on his waist, fifty rounds of ammunition lying quietly inside, this was not enough! Although it was a bolt-action weapon with a low rate of fire, Ron knew that this bullet was not enough after using it himself.

So Ron went back to the logistics officers, and those people would give a little face to a veteran like Ron. By the time Ron returned, he had a hundred more rounds of ammunition and six M24s on him, and it was perfect to use these grenades against fortifications like bunkers.

Putting the bullets away, the grenade slung diagonally to his waist, Ron moved his somewhat frozen fingers, and the soldiers around him were in position under the drive of the junior officers, now waiting for the front-line officers' charging whistles. Everyone's expressions are relaxed and full of confidence, this will be another victory and Antania will be a rout without a doubt.

Ron pushed up the brim of his hat that covered his vision, this is the steel helmet used in the era of cold weapons, and it was modified and sent to them, which was said to be useful, but Ron did not experience the use of this iron lump, only knew that it pressed his neck very sore, and out of obedience to the order, Ron still buckled it on his head.

The silence before the war was the most torturous, there was some commotion in the front trenches waiting for the order to attack, the veterans were quietly leaning against the back wall to conserve their strength, and the recruits who had fought two battles with new weapons (in Ron's eyes those who did not have more than a year of military experience were called recruits) were the main body of restlessness.

They jumped up and down and looked around, talking loudly about what to do with the spoils of war, and many of them stuck their heads out of the trenches to observe the enemy's positions. Ron, who was supposed to be like them, held a withered grass in his mouth and quietly watched these peers die.

The continuation of the war will inevitably bring about a decline in the quality of the soldiers, Ron was thinking so, not far away, a bloody flower appeared on the head of a guy who was looking with his neck stretched, and the bullet flew off his skull, and the brain and blood were splattered everywhere, and the body hit the back wall and then slid limply to the ground.

Seeing the blood flower first, and then hearing the gunshots, Ron's eyes tightened, there was a top shooter on the opposite side! Antanya's Premiers are a nuisance class and the only one that can inflict casualties on them.

I want to go up and check the opponent's wounds, but I don't have time now, and the time to attack is coming soon. Ron put away his mind and waited for the order to attack, but God seemed to be working against them, the attack just now seemed to be a signal, and then one after another, people were shot and fell to the ground, some were dead, some were injured, it didn't seem like much, but hundreds of people on the entire front were incapacitated in just a few minutes.

Ron didn't know if there was a blow to morale, he only knew that he had been temporarily promoted this time, and the commander of his unit was also on the attack list, and the bullet flew over and hit him in the head, but there was a steel helmet in the way, only the head was beaten backwards, and then the man lay there still.

When everyone helped him up, they found that this guy's neck was broken, and his head was hanging on his stomach, obviously helpless. As one of the few veteran sergeants, Ron was temporarily in charge of the troops.

The sudden attack seemed to be Antanya's last struggle, and there was no sound on the other side after a brief shooting.

The order to attack from Ron's side was finally given, and everyone rushed out of the trenches and forward, this time to break through the defensive positions of Antania and obtain a salient here as a foothold for the next attack.

Ron didn't feel good about charging with his men, the fog hadn't completely cleared, and there seemed to be a silent monster waiting for them in front of him on the smoke-filled battlefield. This feeling was always the time when Ron encountered bloody battles, the most recent of which was the first Battle of Nice.

Ron glanced back at the running, and the strongest guys in the company were carrying their "black pigs" to catch up, and Ron was a little relieved to see this scene. "Black Pig" is the nickname they gave to Makqin, the black livery weighs as much as a pig, and the name is not good, but as long as it is there, the soldiers have enough courage to face several times the enemy.

"Disperse!" Approaching a certain distance from the opposing position, Ron began to give a loud order, and Antania changed the arrangement of the artillery, due to the lack of range of weapons, they moved the artillery position back to the rear of the infantry line instead of the infantry line as before, which would cause a lot of casualties to the attacking Germanian soldiers.

Disperse in advance to prevent the opponent's shells from increasing casualties, and as for where the shells land, it depends on luck. With one order after another, the originally dense stormtroop formation became sparse.

But! The whistling of steam shells was not heard as usual, and the Antanian artillery used to fire shells at them with all their strength, what is going on today? Could it be that they all ran away, Ron and his men had rushed to a very close position, but there was no resistance, and there was only a dead silence on the opposite position.

Quite a few people began to cheer that the run was over, believing that the Antanians had fled without a fight. But Ron became more and more uneasy in his heart, his face flushed with the rapid heartbeat, and his chest seemed to be unable to restrain the beating of his heart.

How is it possible for a unit with the presence of a top shooter to flee without a fight? At this time, only occupying the opponent's position is the safest, just came to such a thought, Ron, who was about to accelerate under his feet, suddenly heard a sound similar to that of the Mauser 98K when it was launched, and this sound came from the enemy position not far away!