Before the soldiers could cheer in victory, another Ukrainian T-26 tank was destroyed by a hidden anti-tank gun, and the twin self-propelled anti-aircraft gun, which had just been remarkable, was also blown off its track and paralyzed on the side of the road because it was crushed by a mine in the process of advancing.

More Ukrainian soldiers leapfrogged the destroyed tank and charged at the building across the street, where heavy machine guns began to roar and one soldier after another fell on the way. Eventually, the advancing soldiers retreated to where they had started, hiding behind the paralyzed chariots and returning fire.

Soon, the paralyzed anti-aircraft gun was once more powerful, it turned its open turret, aimed the muzzle of the cannon at the building in the distance, and after an order, the dense cannon shells flew towards the building in the distance, leaving a row of bowl-sized holes in the thick wall.

With such heavy firepower, the Ukrainian soldiers once again launched a frantic attack, braving the enemy's artillery fire and bullets, they crossed the street as they wished, rushed into the building, and turned the remaining dozen or so Soviet soldiers inside after being slaughtered by anti-aircraft guns into corpses lying on the ground.

War, for an artilleryman, is to load one shell at a time into an artillery piece and then fire it at the enemy's position. For them, killing is a constant thrust of a metal cylinder made of copper into a chimney-like object and the triggering of the excitation device. They couldn't see the horror of their shells, the bloody corpses, or the severed limbs flying in the sky.

If someone has been through war, serving in certain branches of the military that don't have to be in the war, they are definitely favored by God. After all, having experienced war, but not having to experience the bloody brutality of fighting, is a happy thing worth celebrating.

Modern warfare is becoming more and more like a game, where soldiers can launch missiles at the push of a button to directly destroy targets hundreds of kilometers away. However, at the beginning of March 1939, even with a time-traveler like Accardo who had improved the level of warfare, it still required soldiers to fight face-to-face.

Yes, in a face-to-face fight, soldiers on both sides hold their own weapons, insert sharp bayonets, and use the most primitive methods to tell the winner of the war. In the streets and alleys of Kharkiv, it seems that the former civilization of mankind and the high-end technology of war are insulated from here, and the soldiers here are determined by the methods that began in the Middle Ages to determine who has the right to continue to survive.

In the trench, a Soviet soldier carries his Mosin Nagant rifle with a bright bayonet hanging from the tip. His expression was focused, his rifle in both hands meticulously and his eyes fixed on the enemy opposite.

He couldn't help but be careless, because the young Ukrainian on the opposite side was looking at him with fierce eyes. The Ukrainian soldier was holding a Mauser 98K rifle flat in his hand, which also had a sharp knife stuck in the head.

The Soviet soldier wore a fur hat on his head, and he was wearing a light green and yellowish military coat with an armed belt tied around the coat, looking very smart, and on the head of this Ukrainian soldier was a simplified production of an M35 steel helmet, he was wearing a short German military uniform, and his hands were wearing his own personal woolen gloves.

"Traitor!" the Soviet soldier suddenly roared, and then rushed at his opponent with his bayonet, using the simplest assassination fighting technique, straightening his upper body, lunging forward, and stabbing straight at the end of his gun.

The cold and sharp bayonet came at the Ukrainian soldier, he used his own gun to pick the other party's bayonet, his body followed with a dodge movement, the close staggered position, the two of them each circled half a circle, and returned to the stage of confrontation.

The Soviet soldier knew that he didn't have much time, and when the rest of the Ukrainian soldiers in the trenches dragged the situation and the second group of enemy troops rushed into the trenches, he had no choice but to surrender or escape. So he shouted again and stabbed his enemy with his bayonet.

The young Ukrainian man once again parried the tip of the opponent's knife with his bayonet, and then picked up the butt of his gun, and the butt of the gun was pressed against the opponent's shoulder, and this blow was so powerful that the Soviet soldier staggered a few steps to the side.

Although the Ukrainian soldier was young, he also knew the truth of the pursuit of victory, he raised a kick and kicked the opponent's thigh supporting his body while the opponent had not yet regained his balance. The Soviet soldier obviously did not expect that he would be so defeated, and he was caught off guard, kicked in the leg by the Ukrainian soldier, and then fell.

The Ukrainian soldier held his bayonet, leaving no chance for this opponent, and he followed the fallen Soviet soldier with a force, and thrust the bayonet on his rifle into the chest of the Soviet soldier.

Bright red blood flowed down the blood groove on the bayonet, instantly staining the coat of the Soviet soldier, the sharp tip pierced into the skin, as simple as cutting tofu, and the splattered blood was more like a beautiful little flower blooming.

Without the slightest hesitation, the Ukrainian soldier pulled his bayonet from the body of the Soviet soldier, and then coherently chose another position and inserted it. Blood splattered onto the gray-green German military uniform on his body, and he didn't care. Seeing that the Soviet soldier reluctantly dropped the gun in his hand, his painful eyes were a little confused, and then he drew his bayonet again.

"Su ...... ......" The Soviet soldier said the word with a mouth full of blood, closed his eyes, and his arm hung limply on the cold ground, never moving again. And the Ukrainian soldier is hurrying to load the last magazine ammunition in his belt at this moment.

And not far from the red place where the bayonet is here, a Soviet soldier who has just killed a young Ukrainian soldier with a shovel is panting and looking around for something. It's possible that he's looking for his next target, or maybe he's looking for a route to escape.

But he didn't even bother with what he was looking for, because the loaded Ukrainian soldier had already picked up his rifle and aimed at the poor enemy in the distance, he pulled the trigger, and the bullet flew out and hit the opponent's chest, ending the man's constant search for something.

Put down your rifle, pull the bolt on it hard, exit the cartridge case and put the next bullet on the chamber, pick up your rifle, aim, press the crosshair on a Soviet soldier who is confronting someone not far away, and then fire decisively, shooting the bullet into the body of the unlucky guy, and then repeating the action.

The Ukrainian soldier seemed to be able to hear his own breathing, more Ukrainian soldiers jumped into the trench and ran past him, and some jumped into the trench and shot with guns, covering other friendly troops who rushed through the trench, followed by other Soviet soldiers in the trench who were shot and fell, some raised their hands high, but they were still shot through the head.

No one shushed for warmth, no one stopped, the cold air made the breath carry white smoke, and under the cold steel helmet, there were faces flushed with excessive adrenaline.

Kharkov, which was supposed to be the grave of the German armored corps, has now turned into a hell for the infantry. Blood flowed everywhere, making the city look extraordinarily red. In the square, the marble statue of Lenin was pulled down by a group of Ukrainian soldiers with a rope and fell to the side of the surrounding flower beds, shattering into sections, and the Ukrainian soldiers who were still laughing and putting a rope on the statue just now, and then one of them was crushed in the head by Soviet snipers.

Retaliatory artillery fire soon descended on all the buildings and streets in the vicinity, and several 75mm infantry field guns frantically poured their ammunition into all the buildings near the small square. Some buildings have collapsed into ruins that are not visible at all, while others are left with only one wall standing alone, as desolate and hopeless as a tombstone.

200,000 Soviet soldiers were ordered to be stationed here and use their flesh and blood to hold off the German tanks. 200,000 Ukrainian soldiers were ordered to attack here and occupy the city with their blood and will. Both sides are doing their best here, for the fate of a country, but one wants this country to live forever, and the other is for the country to perish.

"What a waste of time, bombarding the city center with heavy artillery, letting them know that the current war should be fought like this!" said an Italian officer, putting down the binoculars in his hand, pointing to the city in the distance where fire and smoke were constantly rising.

With his order, the Italian troops let out their own roar of large-caliber heavy artillery transported from thousands of miles away, which compensated for the lack of heavy weapons of the Ukrainian troops, and made the whole city begin to tremble at the fall of shells.

At sunset, the battle was still raging. No one has given up on their mission because of the passage of time, or the arrival of darkness. The cannons were still roaring, and the shells were still destroying building after building into flat ground and even deep pits.

To the east of the city, the 100,000 Soviet troops withdrawn from Kharkov were rushing day and night, hoping to retreat behind the Caucasian defense line before Guderian and give the Soviet Union a glimmer of hope of survival.