Ride of the Valkyrie (Walkürenritt).

Richard Wagner's opera The Ring of the Nibelungen, Part II, opens with the third act of Valkyrie, which depicts Odin's daughters, the Valkyries in golden helmets and blood-red robes, flying on white horses over the battlefield. When they find someone who is dying, they send a kiss of death, leading the souls of the war dead to Valhalla. Among Wagner's works, it is second only to the "Wedding March" in the opera "Lohengrin".

In addition to opera lovers, in the generation of pop music, Hollywood movies, and computer games, thanks to Francis Ford Coppola and Apocalypse Now, the generation that did not like symphonies, theater, ballet, and opera finally knew about this famous music. And now, the Defence Forces are about to recreate this fiery saga.

A sonorous orchestra dominated the skies, and a loud soprano flowed from a high-powered megaphone hanging under the wing of an assault aircraft.

“Ho-joto-ho! Ho-joto-ho! Ho-joto-ho!”

The rumbling of cannons, the rushing rapids, the roars of rage, and the wails of death could not stop the Valkyrie from riding her horse and galloping through the battlefield sky, condescendingly choosing the song of the heroic spirit.

“Ho-joto-ho! Ho-joto-ho! Ho-joto-ho!”

The assault planes formed a triangular formation in a group of 3 planes and began to enter the dive course, holding the long 88 guns under the nose. The steel eagles swooped down on the ground viciously, and the pneumatic bagpipes mounted on the right side of the nose let out a terrible scream. In front of them was a group of dragons who were completing the rotation and outflanking action, and Charlemagne's proud knights were exposed in front of a pile of flying chariot guns, machine guns, rockets, and aerial bombs, lined up in a neat horizontal line like a military parade, defenseless and without any cover.

The knights looked up at the sky and cast a surprised, bewildered gaze at the strange iron bird, accompanied by the mockery of the goddess against the background of orchestral music, and countless flowers of fire bloomed in the sky.

The assault planes faithfully reproduced the contents of the ground attack manual, and several three-plane formations caught up with the cavalry ranks. From back to front. Pass over the guò queue in turn. During this time, the metal storm smashes into the head of a moving object in the attack path, and then circles around to return to the starting attack position after the field, so as to ensure that the barrage does not break.

In fact, this practice is somewhat redundant. Not to mention the abrupt lightweight tank cannon and the rocket nest that hangs under the wings. The four 55mm cannons built into the wing of the assault aircraft are all murder weapons of the "overkill" level for infantry fighting vehicles. Not to mention the second echelon that is responsible for the task of "replenishing guns". Under the wings, composite pylons were filled with butterfly bombs - cluster bombs for use against cluster targets. 10 canister submunitions are placed in each mother bomb container. These bombs are fitted with an air-detonation fuse. It is set to detonate at a distance of 5 meters from the ground. At the moment of explosion, thousands of steel balls will be launched into the ground. The land, the corpses, the living, and the running dragons will all be beaten into a sieve. If the survivors who were lucky enough to survive the first wave of attacks can continue to have good luck and avoid the Butterfly Bullet series. Don't be too anxious to thank the Mother Goddess for her favor, the previous wave of assault planes has completed the maneuver at this time, and the pilot shouted "Run! Charlie!", while pouring ammunition again, began the work of "sweeping the tail and roll call......

This is not a battle at all, but at least one or two hostile acts on reciprocal terms, gambling each other's lives for survival and victory - such hostilities can be called combat. What is happening before us is a one-sided catastrophe and massacre.

Driven by desperation and courage, there are also magicians and sappers who try to fight back at the monsters overhead. But the arrows fired upwards were not effective enough to be accurate, and occasionally one or two lucky arrows hit the target, and with the layer of armor that was strong enough to withstand the fire of small-caliber weapons, it bounced off the smooth surface and fell feebly into the ground.

The magicians were even more miserable, and from the moment the Iron Bird appeared in the sky, they found themselves unable to sense Mana's existence. The miracle that was supposed to be a boost, the pride of being a superman, the qiē that supported the spiritual pillar of the magician, collapsed in an instant. Just as they were sweating profusely with their wands raised, a torrent of rockets patronized them. The figure holding his wand aloofed in vain flickered in the firelight, and then vanished.

The knights in the middle lane have no time to admire the bravery of their comrades who have died in battle, and they must fight against time to survive. When the monsters in the air took care of the two wings, the iron bumps in front of them did not forget them, and the long-nosed metal monsters moved one after another, forming a group of 7 and rushing towards them in a neat wedge-shaped assault formation. The person standing on the head of the iron pimple manipulated a long black iron pipe, wielding a light whip to whip them back and forth, and the victims who were hit by the red lotus bow were directly stopped in two, their hands and feet were torn off, and a hole as big as a basin was made in their chest. After quenching and refining, the plate armor that cannot be penetrated by non-strong bows and sharp swords is as ridiculous as a piece of tissue paper in the face of the storm of iron and fire.

Suffering from the blows of imagination one after another, the knights' confidence, command system, and trust relationship have been lost. The Knights completely lost their restraint and became a collection of headless flies. Everyone scrambled to turn and flee, soldiers brandished weapons at officers to grab a way to escape, comrades who had been brothers for many years drew their swords, no one cared about their original mission, and no one noticed where their regimental commander was.

Draenor was stunned on the dragon's back, and the mess in front of him seemed to have nothing to do with him. lost the standard-bearer and adjutant, his body was full of flesh and blood desperately pushing away his subordinates, and the prosthetic leg of his right arm was blown away. The curly iron plate wrapped around the severed limb that had been severed again, and blood gushed from the severed arm, spilling onto the ground and seeping into the dirt. It was unbelievable that the old cavalry did not feel the pain, immersed in the majestic symphony of death, and showed an expression of intoxication and happiness on his face.

I have been exposed to all kinds of first-rate music in Lüddes's court, but I have never been so shocked from the bottom of my heart as I am now.

What a beautiful and solemn ensemble, the chorus of various orchestral instruments, the high-pitched voice of the singer resounded through the battlefield.

“Ho-joto-ho! Ho-joto-ho! Hei-aha! Hei-aha!”

As if seeing the goddess of heaven smiling at him, Draenor suddenly thought "it's time to pray", took off his obstructive helmet with his only remaining hand, and half-knelt on the ground, worshipping his death with a reverent face, welcoming his death.

An 88mm shell sliced out the face of redemption, and then a 380mm shell fell, and the earth was tossed like a volcanic eruption, and when the smoking clods tumbled to the ground, Draenor was gone, leaving not even the free atoms in the smoking crater. (To be continued......)

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