Wren's upper body was exposed outside the tank's turret, leaning against the hatch and looking at the field hospital on the side. Not far from his tank, the artillerymen of the 1st SS Panzer Division were desperately reloading 150 mm howitzers.

Several soldiers lifted the shells out of the ammunition box and stuffed them into the cannon's bomb bay, and then the gunners on the side quickly closed the bolts, and then shouted a warning message, and the surrounding soldiers covered their ears.

"Boom!" another shell flew through the river on the edge of Sedang and towards the defensive positions of the French army in the distance. And a few paces away from this cannon, several officers were watching the results of the shelling with scissor periscopes, they stood up, drew twice on the map, and then pointed to the distance to discuss something.

A few hours earlier, the vanguard of German Army Group A had entered Sedan and the French defenders had put up desperate resistance, but were eventually driven to the opposite bank by the Germans, and the French soldiers had blown up the bridge at the last moment, and the entire German attack was blocked.

But then the German sappers began to build bridges over the river, the arriving artillery began to cover the fire, and the French troops put up stubborn resistance on the opposite bank, but the effect was not obvious.

The troops of the 3rd SS Panzer Division had already entered the attack position, and they would then cover the troops to cross the river, cut into the positions of the French troops, and destroy a thing that stood in the way.

Wren asked Bowman to park the tank next to a collapsed building and jumped out of the vehicle. He saw a roof where several German grenadiers were tearing up a huge German flag, and it looked like German planes would start bombing it in a short time.

A truck drove in front of him, dragging a tall 88-mm anti-aircraft gun behind it, and the truck stopped not far from Wren's left hand, and then five or six artillerymen jumped out of the car and began to erect the anti-aircraft gun in a clearing. A couple of grenadiers came over and helped lift the shells of the 88-mm anti-aircraft gun down from the truck.

Wren walked across the street to the field hospital, where wounded German soldiers of all kinds lay on stretchers and on marching beds. He walked over with a blank face, looking at the white cloth tent set up in the corner of the ruined house, and at the wounded inside, who had broken arms or legs.

Wren walked over to a hospital bed and watched the bloodied young man moaning in pain, his arm had been hit by a machine gun, his entire shoulder and left arm were broken, and after a careless bandage, he was now lying on the bed with no air in and out. Those lost eyes stared at Wren, as if they had a lot to say. Wren didn't speak, just looked at him condescendingly, and only a moment later, he was covered with a white cloth over his face by a paramedic.

"Boom!" another cannon rang out, and a wounded soldier not far away began to weep bitterly: "Oh my God! I want to go home! "He was shot through the calf and sat on the ground, not even a bed because the wound was not too severe. And on the bed he was leaning on, a soldier with a head wound was lying motionless.

"Long live the Führer, sir, what is the matter with you?" said a medic, seeing Wren, and came over to salute, wiping his hands with the dirty apron on his chest, and frowning.

"I heard that there was a fierce battle here in the morning, so I came to see what was going on. Wren was startled by a scream not far away, where a wounded soldier was being pressed against the operating table by two men, using a saw to cut off his forearm bit by bit. He looked at the tragic scene over there, and then said to the medic in front of him.

"In the morning the French set up two crossed machine-gun emplacements here, and they killed at least 20 of our soldiers before the tanks arrived. The medic pointed to the houses on either side, where mottled bullet marks attested to the intensity of the morning's fighting.

"Later they blew up the bridge, and two officers and a dozen grenadiers who were responsible for seizing the bridge were wounded. The medical soldier briefly introduced the casualties, and then pointed to a qiē in front of him: "This is noon, a forced attack organized by the 2nd Regiment, the wounded are here, and a few people are missing, and the French have several machine gun positions on the opposite bank, which are very hidden." ”

"Are there any anti-tank guns?" Wren asked.

You can talk to the officers in that building, they are from the 2nd Regiment and the 2nd Battalion. The medic pointed to a fairly intact building in the distance and said, "The headquarters of the 2nd Battalion is located there. Of course if you want to look around, I advise you not to go to the river, where there is an exchange of fire. ”

"Thank you. How can I help you?" Wren asked politely, looking around.

"Oh, no! it's all dirty work here. will stain your military uniform. The medic smiled and waved his hand, turned his head to look at a wounded man lying at his feet, and said loudly to one of the grenadiers who followed him: "Wounded No. 31! He needs a priest, not a doctor." Next!"

The soldier's entire intestines were shattered, and bright red blood flowed from his nose with every breath. He couldn't speak, because blood would spurt out from a mouth, so he only looked at Wren with pleading eyes, hoping that he would help him.

"I can't help you because I'm not a doctor or a pastor. Wren glanced down at the soldier, then bent down and said, "I'm just a soldier who kills for the Führer...... I can promise you that I can help you kill a few more enemies before I die. ”

The corners of the soldier's mouth twitched, then he closed his eyes and stopped breathing. And in another corner of the entire field hospital, a soldier was shouting: "Sue my father, I still love him, Sue sù, I did my best! Sue sù Führer! I did my best! He hit me! He hit me! I tried my best!"

The soldier was trembling with hyperexcitement because of the nonsense of morphine, and he grabbed the arm of the paramedic who operated on him, and the more he talked, the less strength he felt, and finally collapsed on the operating table and lost all his life.

Under Wren's gaze, the medic walked over to the other wounded soldier, held down the soldier who had been shot in the abdomen, reached out and put his finger into the bullet hole, and blood gushed out like a small fountain. Wren watched quietly, not even moving his eyebrows.

In the midst of the soldier's fierce shouts, a bullet was dug out. The medician threw the bullet on the ground, pointed to the soldier who was still screaming, and said to the grenadier behind him: "Arrange two people, help him press his wound, and I will come back to deal with him later! If his wound continues to bleed, come to me!"

The grenadier nodded, called over to the two infantrymen who had come to help at the door, and told them to do as the paramedic had told, and then he followed the medic without saying a word, continuing to examine the wounded one by one.

"Ahh The wounded soldier's arm was bleeding profusely, splashing the medic in the face.

The medician didn't look at the wounded soldier, and as he wiped his hands, he said, "Plug the hole with your fingers!" The wound on the arm is not fatal, so let it go for now. ”

"How can you be so rough with the wounded?" asked one of the grenadiers who came to help, frowning at the medics, if he didn't want to be carried here and subjected to such a beating.

"Mr. Grenadier! I haven't slept for two days, and I've dealt with more than seventy wounded! If I follow the procedure for each one, I can only save a dozen a day!" the medic had bloodshot eyes, and instead of paying attention to the stunned soldier questioning him, he walked to another stretcher in the distance.

Wren didn't look back, and said to Andre, who walked behind him: "This is war, no matter what the reason, someone always has to die for these bullshit reasons, and I'm not afraid of death, so I came here to kill people, kill those who want to kill me." You know it now, right? This is war! All you can do is live as hard as you can. ”

The soldier on the stretcher gasped in pain and groaned loudly, but still shoved his fingers into his bleeding arm, and stammered to the paramedic who was walking away, "Thank you...... Thank you. ”

Andrei bypassed a wounded soldier lying on the ground moaning, walked up to Rennes, and said softly: "The battalion headquarters has received news, the air force will bombard the opposite bank in an hour, and at that time the sappers will erect pontoon bridges, and we are ordered to cover the infantry to establish a bridgehead on the opposite bank." ”

"Shall we start?" Wren asked.

"Because our tanks have board skirts on both sides, they are a little more defensive. So Company Commander Carter gave us a head. Andrei replied.

"That's fine, I'll go back and work out a strategy with Carter in a moment. Wren nodded, turned around and walked out with Andre. Behind them, screams continued to be heard throughout the hospital, but the two people who came out had no special expressions on their faces.

"Get something to eat!" Wren walked to the tank and gave the order to cook, "and wait for the company's departure order." Check the ammunition and send the used drums to the logistics. ”

Soon, a fairly sumptuous field meal was ready, and under the watchful eye of the grenadiers who were drooling and eating potatoes and cabbage, the Wren crew unscrewed the scalding cans and ate them with great delight. While eating, each of them prayed, praying that they would survive the rest of the battle.