A German infantryman who tried to cross the street to the opposite side was hit by a bullet and fell to the side of the road with a shudder, his body twisted a little by the shoulder of the road, and he twitched there twice and then never moved again.

Not far from him, two German soldiers with rifles fired fiercely at their targets. They were attacking a French position, an old three-story building.

A cannonball whistled across the roof and exploded not far away, sending up a cloud of black smoke, and the huge explosion was deafening, splashing rubble and rubble everywhere, and the violent tremors could be felt two hundred meters away.

The shock wave and loud sound shattered all the glass of the surrounding buildings and fell to the ground, and the building closest to the shell collapsed in an instant.

"Machine gun group! Set up here! Shoot at the building over there and cover the infantry approaching there! Quick!" a German infantry platoon commander commanded loudly to the soldiers behind him, leaning against the wall of a building. His accent was hoarse, and it seemed that the days of fighting had brought him a slight sense of exhaustion.

In the room behind him, a German machine gun was quickly erected under the busyness of the machine gun team, through the curtain, the muzzle of the black hole hole sticked out of the window, aimed at the position of the French, they were waiting for the platoon commander's order, just waiting for the order to pull the trigger to suppress the French fire.

The bullet hit the platoon leader's feet, sending a cloud of gray smoke. As if he had turned a blind eye, he bent over the rubble and urged his troops to move quickly: "Left and right! Left and right! Move separately! Pay attention to those French fire points, anti-tank groups, come to me! Quick!"

A bullet hit the wall on one side of him, leaving a deep bullet hole less than twenty centimeters from his ear, and he crouched down and waited for the bazooka team to run up, then patted them on the shoulder, put his face in their ears and shouted: "See the buildings over there? The French defenders there are resisting, give them a shell, I'm going to shut them up!"

The soldier carrying the bazooka nodded, indicating that he had heard the order clearly. The ammo loader who followed him shoved a rocket into the barrel of the bazooka, then tapped the anti-tank man's steel helmet.

The platoon commander saw that they were ready, so he ordered loudly: "Three, two, one! Fire cover!" After saying that, he took a step forward, picked up his G43 rifle, and shot all the bullets in his magazine at the window on the second floor of the building.

The machine gun, which had been laid in ambush for a long time, roared, and swept towards the French position with tracer bullets with tongues of fire, where a cloud of white smoke rolled up, and at a glance people knew that the opposite side must have been badly beaten.

The German infantry on either side raised their weapons and fired fiercely at their targets. Bullets were densely packed into the buildings held by the French army, and the advantage of the Germans' dense firepower was undoubtedly revealed at this moment, and soon the French machine-gun positions were silent, and some of the rifles that covered the fire were also gone.

The anti-tank man with the iron fist anti-tank rocket launcher knelt on the ground, leaned out and aimed at his target, a thick smoke erupted from the tail of the bazooka, and a rocket flew rapidly towards his target, and then a violent explosion came, and the window with the French Hatch Chase heavy machine gun could no longer be seen clearly because of the smoke of the explosion, but the gunfire in this area seemed to have stopped with this explosion!

"Oh God, we surrender, don't shoot, we surrender!" a voice shouted awkwardly in German from the French position.

"Hands up! Let us see that you don't have weapons in your hands!" replied loudly in French, leaning against the wall.

"Don't shoot! We're coming out! We're out of ammunition! Don't fire!" the Frenchman shouted, still in German, and a haggard-looking French soldier stepped out of the rubble, his hands raised, and then dropped his gun on the rubble to the side, and cautiously walked out.

He still held a white handkerchief in his hand, his neck was shrunk in his coat, his body was covered with dust, and many places on his leather boots were worn out of shape. He wore a wide-shielded steel helmet on his head that looked like ancient armor, and his eyes were full of fear and pleading.

"Medic!" cried out a German soldier lying on the ground not far away, who had been shot in the thigh by a bullet a few minutes before the battle was over, and was lying in the middle of the road, clutching his wounds and waiting for help.

Two German soldiers, rifles on their backs, stepped forward and crouched beside him, one helping to treat his wounds, while the other merely watched around vigilantly. It took about thirty seconds for two soldiers with medical kits to rush over and begin to rescue the wounded German infantryman.

One French soldier after another walked out of the rubble, a hill of guns almost piled up where they had dropped their guns. About a battalion of French soldiers raised the white flag, and the French soldiers sat together in frustration, guarded by a dozen German soldiers with cigarettes in their mouths.

With their heads in their hands, the French soldiers watched not far away as two German medics rescued an infantryman wounded by someone in their midst. A few minutes ago they were enemies, now some are wounded and screaming, some are being taken prisoner and crouching here in humiliation. On another street a few hundred meters from here, the battle continues.

The Germans began to use the lines of the surrendered French troops to flank and rear, and the two sides engaged in a frantic battle between several buildings. A concealed machine-gun position of the French army inflicted considerable casualties on the Germans, and almost 5 German soldiers fell on the way to the charge.

But with the distinctive sound of the G42 machine gun tearing linen, the Germans' courage returned. The G42 machine gun, which had a high rate of fire, easily suppressed the French machine gun position, and the German grenadiers began to penetrate the flanks, and soon approached the range of the grenades - so unceremoniously, several grenades patronized the French machine gun positions at the same time, and after a puff of smoke, nothing could stop the German soldiers who were shouting Long live the Führer.

This is an Asura field, and this is the fast track to hell. Every life is small here, and every breath is precious here. With the scorching fire and the rubble buried, every soldier who survives here is the best of the best, and living here for an hour will be more thrilling than living for a lifetime on a normal day.

This is the most real battlefield, there is no crazy man shouting to encourage his comrades to charge in the TV series, there is no crazy scene of crowds of people in the imagination, there are only people who put their faces on the ground and pray to continue to live, they will cry when they are hit, and how ugly and ugly the posture of bending over and hunching their legs when they run. But here, indeed, is a battlefield, a real battlefield.

Unlike the German armored forces, which were quick to assault every day, the German infantry was responsible for encircling and destroying enemy troops surrounded by armored forces, and their combat tasks were often to capture targets that were garrisoned by enemy troops in complex terrain.

These soldiers had no cover from tanks and armored vehicles, lacked the fire support of the air force, and had to pay a heavy price for every step forward, but they still fulfilled all the tasks assigned to them by the military.

They proved that the German Army was not only the best armored forces in the world, and they won the respect of all German generals with their sacrifices.

Whether on muddy country roads, in the ruins of cities, in vast forests, or between mountains and mountains with no end in sight, the German infantry proved to the world with perseverance and perseverance that they were the "first army in the world".

Short of ammunition and supplies, the French army held out for three hours before surrendering, and this time on an unprecedented scale - an elite French infantry division stationed here surrendered to the German 7th Infantry Division, with about 8,000 French soldiers laying down their arms.

In the afternoon, the French soldiers in the vicinity surrendered one after another, except for a few who were still resisting, these French soldiers gathered in groups of three or five to share some unpalatable food from the Germans. But there was no look on their faces as vanquished, and because of hunger and lack of ammunition, they were very optimistic that they would be able to eat a full meal after surrendering.

Colonel Frederick, who had received a flag of honor from a French major general, had heard in his suburban command that the French troops that were resisting his advance had finally surrendered, and had led his chief of staff and guards in a car into the town, where gunfire was still ringing, a few minutes earlier.

The German war correspondents surrounded the victorious German colonel, who was dressed in a long coat and an untidy coat. Frederick had all sorts of bits and pieces hanging from his chest, making his outfit look indistinguishable from that of a grocery vendor.

He hung a pistol and armed belt, carried a large leather bag with a map, and a telescope on his chest, and his outfit made him look a little funny, but he had a tired and excited smile on his face.

The French officer, who had handed over his army flag, had a look of frustration on his face.

The German journalists, of course, did not miss such a wonderful moment, and they immediately pressed the shutter, and the magnesium light "banged" to record this moment full of contrasts.