A Leopard slowly reverses off the flatbed, and the amazing thing is that the tank has not been replaced with transport tracks, but is still equipped with combat tracks.

The secret lies in the fact that the Defence Forces have developed a set of techniques from a large number of military exercises that do not need to get on and off the train from the station platform. The specific method is also simple: pile up the extension of the dirt slope on the field railway, and let the chariot drive down the flatbed wagon in reverse mode. This is not a difficult task for skilled crews, and the vehicles are not subject to the standard spacing between rails and platforms.

The Leopard chariot No. 424 drove into the assembly area under the dispatcher's glow stick and password, and they belonged to the 3rd Company of the 2nd Battalion of the Armored Training Regiment, but before it was their turn to get out of the platoon, the flatbed truck broke down a little. By the time the railroad soldiers finished tossing and the chariots drove over, the camp had already been filled with big meows. Look at the parked parking area full of Tigers, Leopards, Cheetahs, Ferdinand, Wasps, Anti-aircraft Leopards, Infantry Leopards, Repair Tigers, trucks, trailer motorcycles, rocket launchers, howitzers, anti-aircraft guns...... These unlucky guys don't even have the strength to cry.

Captain Farros, who was finally in charge of the dispatch, was quite kind, and forced himself to laugh and assigned them a parking space, and the four car crews finally parked before the gendarmerie inspected the barracks.

After confirming that the distance between the front and rear and the left and right was correct, the No. 424 vehicle was turned off. After reviewing the gears, the base of the shells and the fixed brackets, the toolbox on the fenders and other details, the crew got out of the car neatly.

After a lot of tossing, the last group to enter the camp had already missed dinner time. At this moment, the comrades-in-arms picked their teeth and digested and walked after cooking in the camp. I don't know which officer's gramophone is playing the latest popular song in the barracks, "Lily Marlene". The stomachs of the four armored soldiers cried out together.

"What should I do, boss?"

The driver, Corporal Hook, rubbed his stomach and grimaced.

"I don't want to eat luncheon meat anymore. ”

"I don't want to eat the mysterious meat that was killed that day. ”

Sergeant Mikhail Wittman, the commander, scratched his scalp and looked at the green faces of his subordinates who were about to vomit, and said apologetically:

"But apart from margarine and pickled cabbage, there are only MRE and mysterious meat. ”

"Hell!"

The armourers could not hide their disappointment, and if it weren't for the reserve of the soldiers, they would have beaten their chests long ago.

There are many things that serve as the common language of the Defence Force soldiers, connecting them. No matter when they entered the military academy, where they served, and what crime they suffered in recruit training. Girlfriend's love letter. Even the instructor's talk...... In addition to this, there is something that can quickly awaken vivid memories of barracks life in GIs - whether they are in Solomon's submarine cave or Gabro's large airfield. The secret boat canal of Bergen is also the icy forest of the Duchy of Rus'.

No doubt. That is, field rations led by luncheon meat and MRE.

A copy of these two things, which would make the GIs sick to the point of losing their appetite, was sent to them every day. Sometimes they get two servings - if the sergeant who manages the food distribution is in a bad mood.

For the new generation of elven soldiers who are accustomed to their mother's fried bacon and hamburger steaks, that horror is not food, but an unforgivable crime.

"Hey. Oh my God, what are they doing?"

Fisher, the mechanic who was having a headache with dinner, shouted, and the other crew members who turned their heads saw what shocked them - the commander of the armored instructor, Dietrich, was lying on the ground with a plank resting on his belly, and two soldiers were jumping on it like cabbage.

For the guards, who had strict military discipline and strict hierarchies, this kind of rather spoofed scene was really unimaginable, and what puzzled them even more was that no one came out to stop them, and the gendarmes with dog tags glanced at them and hurried away.

What's going on here? Is this still the army they're in?

Just as he was puzzled, there was an embarrassing cough from behind him. The panzers hurriedly turned to stand and saluted Second Lieutenant Ernst Buckmann, the leader of the third platoon, who had a strange expression.

After returning the salute, Second Lieutenant Buckman touched his nose and, after a few moments, said in a low voice:

"It's not a big deal, Commander He...... It's too much to eat......"

Before he could understand what the second lieutenant was trying to express, there was a series of loud farts behind him......

After the much more comfortable division commander got up to leave, Second Lieutenant Buckman explained to them.

After the troops were stationed, there were problems in the transfer process due to the rapid concentration of materials in the rear. The armored instructor had already eaten battle rations for two consecutive meals, and the whole division fell into depression when he had to eat those disgusting things for dinner.

At this time, the veterans, who worked at the nearby railway station and were in charge of railway dispatch, delivered a large amount of food. There are whole pots of roast rabbit meat, roast goose, roast chicken, whole pieces of roast pork, pig's head......

The GIs, who had long since faded out of their mouths, saw so much delicious food, and what else was there to hesitate and be polite. After greatly thanking the veterans for their deep friendship, the officers and men of the division opened their stomachs and took a sharp breath.

"We tear the meat off the goose leg and eat it with chocolate candy cubes, picking out the chicken brain and dipping it in foie gras...... As a result, the 'Big Stomach King' and 'Daddy Joseph' ate too much and held on. ”

When the hungry armorers heard of such a good thing, their eyes glowed green like wolves. But the thought of having to eat luncheon meat made them sad again.

At this moment, a stretcher was carried in front of them. Lying above was their platoon commander, Second Lieutenant Karius, whose eyes were rolled up, his limbs twitched, and one of his left hands scratching wildly at the sky—a striking resemblance to the legendary dying throes.

"Poor Julius, unfortunate wretched child. ”

Second Lieutenant Buckman shrugged at the recruits.

"He tried to close his eyes and swallow the battle rations, but unfortunately, he drew a special edition of canned luncheon meat made by the Supreme Commander himself—"

Before he could finish speaking, Mikhail's cold hairs stood on their backs. The Lord was an impeccable superman in everything he did, but cooking was an exception. Burdened with [no matter how high-end ingredients can make dark poisonous cuisine], [the king of the dark cuisine world that destroys the miè world with a shovel and a pan]...... and so on terrifying supreme commanders, plus the already disgusting luncheon meat......

The recruits let out a spitting "coo" sound, and the amused Second Lieutenant Buckman beckoned to them and comforted:

"You're lucky, a cow broke into the camp just now, and now it's been dealt with by the cooking team. Muller, the head of the cooking class, is an old friend of mine, and I will bring him back and ask him to give you a taste of the specialties of the Crown of San István - goulash with potatoes and salami. ”

"Thank you, sir!!"

The recruits saluted together - no such standard gesture had been done in the past when they were inspected. Ensign Buckman shook his head with a wry smile and took the group of blessed creatures to enjoy the dinner that Mother God had given them.

Feeling the fire that was burning from head to toe in the body of the authentic Gulashi, Sergeant Mikhail burped, took out a piece of paper from his jacket pocket and spread it out on the marching bed, and by the light of the tent, the tip of the pen "rustled" on the piece of paper, and the pride and longing of the pencil jumped on the paper.

"Dear mother, how are you? In the early hours of this morning, our division launched an attack. It has now crossed the border and is 42 kilometers deep into Castile along the railway line......" (To be continued......

PS: Guess the small theater

Li Lin: Yesterday, no one answered, everyone should do more work!

Nidhogg: Today's question: 1.What is the prototype of Sergeant Mikhail? (hint: the myth of the village of Pokaki, the top tiger ace) 2. Where did the Gulashi potato stew and salami come from? (hint: the country that once merged with Austria to form the Austro-Hungarian Empire. Everyone, hurry up!