Steel Soviet Union

"Jimmy, do you still have cigarettes? I'm done smoking, so I'll give you one. Google search to read"

"Damn it, Jack, are you a smoker? The supplies were distributed just the day before yesterday, and you used them up so quickly? That's a whole week's supply."

Two U.S. troops with dead grass stuck in their helmet grilles and bullet bridge clips were leaning in the machine gun bunker and talking nonsense. One had a cigarette in his mouth, and the other had no cigarette in his mouth. They were arguing with each other. They did not fulfill their duties at all. He did his best to stick his head out of the bunker and act as an observation post, and he knew nothing about the upcoming life-threatening crisis.

"I don't have much inventory left. You go find Brad. They drive tanks and are richer than us."

"You are so stingy, Che"

There are eight bullet bridge clips for the M1 Garand rifle in the helmet grille. The military uniform on his body is sloppy, like a street gangster from rural Texas, more than a soldier, and the beard on his face is too sloppy. I don’t know how many days I haven’t shaved, and I feel like I came from the Middle East. Even the military boots on my feet are slapped on my feet, silently expressing all kinds of cynicism that can be seen at a glance.

"Hey, Brad, do you have a cigarette? That stingy Jimmy had to lick his fingers to avoid wasting the taste. He couldn't even give me a cigarette."

"What the hell did you say!? Son of the Beach!"

"Shut the hell up, it's none of your business if I want a cigarette, you cheapskate!"

Lala was sitting on the turret of his tank, reading a letter just sent home from his wife in his hometown. In the envelope was a photo of his wife, his three-year-old son, and his one-year-old daughter sent along with the letter.

Brad, who was thinking about his family and thinking about finishing the war and returning home to reunite with his family, looked in the direction of the sound.

I saw two infantrymen who were at the same checkpoint as my tank and were responsible for guarding the machine gun bunker. They were arguing about smoking. The slightly younger boy was standing under his car, reaching for a cigarette and putting it in his mouth. He still muttered curses, but it was obvious that he was the one being scolded.

"How many do you want? I just have some here."

Brad is not a particularly difficult person to talk to. To be precise, in the eyes of many people around him, he can be called a "good old guy."

As a veteran, Brad has been in the army for several years. He can repair cars, be proficient in firearms and machinery, and can also command tanks in battle. He is an all-rounder in everyone's eyes.

Maybe it’s because his father is a well-known orphanage sponsor and philanthropist in the local town. Although his parents love him, Brad, who has loved playing in the orphanage since he was a child, has many friends. Maybe this is his reason. The main reason for being sociable and not discriminating against the weak.

All in all, Brad is a "good guy", literally a good guy. He is also an "excellent company commander" and "highly praised vehicle commander" by his comrades and subordinates in the same vehicle crew with thumbs up. His willingness to help others is one of his signature characteristics.

Regardless of whether the person seeking help is a stranger or an acquaintance, as long as he is a comrade of his own, Brad is usually willing to help, and he doesn't even mind helping more, like now.

"Really? Oh, look, that's better than some cheapskate bastard who has to point his fingers to pick his asshole. Sorry, I didn't mean anything else, I meant thank you, thank you so much, bro, I I’ve been holding this mouthful for a long time, let me enjoy it now.”

Looking at the boy with a crooked helmet under the car, he took the few cigarettes he handed him, put one of them into his mouth, put the other ones into his coat pocket, closed the pocket flap and put them away carefully, speechless. Brad, who was laughing, also became interested and couldn't help but ask.

"Where is your family from? Bro, your accent sounds like you're from Texas?"

"Yeah, real Texas, like"

call out--

Ding-ding——

The cynical second-rate soldier with a crooked helmet didn't even have time to finish his words. The artillery shells whistling with a shrieking sound came from far and near in an instant. Before everyone's brain circuits could react, the shells were fired. The target has been hit.

It was a half-track machine gun truck parked in front of the intersection not far away. There were even several American soldiers chatting and kicking in the carport. There were also people around the car. No one realized the crisis was coming. , and couldn't escape it.

Death only comes in the blink of an eye.

Boom——

The huge explosion and the fireball that instantly rose shook the surrounding air. The blown human tissue fragments and steel debris were scattered and sprayed all over the sky. The high-speed hot metal fragments set off by the explosion impact were more like a death storm. In an instant, it swept away everything around it and swept away thousands of armies.

"Damn it! Enemy attack, enemy attack! The Germans are coming, take cover! Shelling!!!"

"Shut up, shut the fuck up! Get down, everyone, take cover!"

"Medic, where is the medic!? I need a fucking medic, my legs, my legs!"

Explosions, orders, roars, sounds of pain, all kinds of shouts and screams

Just the explosion caused by such a shell, the US military at the entire checkpoint was instantly in chaos. It is hard to believe that this group of people had just repelled and driven away another team of armed personnel nearly an hour ago. , won the battle, the enemy was the German stormtroopers.

What does this mean?

Maybe it doesn't mean much. At most, it can only show that the Germans' stormtroopers, who are using random weapons, filled with cattle and horses, and made up of strong men, are the real deal.

The US troops under attack were shouting and making a mess. They didn't even know where the shells came from or where the enemy was. At this moment, there were only the elite party on the opposite side who were "watching eagerly". Guards can capture their targets completely like a hunter and prepare for hunting.

"Go on, reload armor-piercing ammunition! A Yankee tank will appear at the street corner at any time, stay alert!"

"Cars No. 102, 103 and 112 move forward and send the infantry up! The other vehicles maintain fire support and give priority to killing the Yankee tanks!"

"receive!"

Following Wittmann's order, the roaring German Tiger Kings immediately began to take action.

The huge car body carried the armored grenadiers on its body, and began to press on the accelerator and surge forward at maximum speed.

The American troops who were stunned by the cannon at first were not really stupid, they were just food.

Anyone who is not blind can see the Tiger King's huge body, which is as big as a moving hill. Those US soldiers who are still stationed at checkpoints and bunker positions outside the town see these giant beasts rushing towards them. Come, in addition to picking up the weapons in your hands and preparing to fight against the enemy, there are also naturally those shouts of panic that are so frightening.

"Fak! It's the King Tiger of the Germans! Call the tanks! We need tank support, quick!"