Transmigrated as the Crown Prince

"Ula!!"

"Ula!!"

Thousands of Soviet soldiers gave out loud shouts and shouted "Ula!" and launched an attack on the German defense lines. If they were facing new soldiers, they would probably be frightened by the overwhelming momentum and surrender without a fight.

Unfortunately, they faced the battle-hardened German army and were not intimidated.

On a machine gun position, the machine gunner firmly held the handle of the MG3 machine gun and calmly chatted with the loader next to him. "What the hell are these guys called? Hoffman, you know they shout 'Ula' every time they charge?"

"You've asked the right person, I'm a Russian major." Hoffman explained proudly. "The word 'Ula' has no specific meaning, it just expresses strong emotions." For example, Russian soldiers shouted "Ula" during military parades, which is similar to "Long live"; and when charging on the battlefield, they shouted "Ula! Ula" !", similar to "Charge!" or "Kill!".

The machine gunner spat disdainfully. "That's just nonsense? What a bunch of Slavic beasts! So barbaric. And stupid enough. What age are you still engaging in large-scale group charges?" Before World War I, large-scale group charges often occurred. The characteristic of this charging method is to use more to bully the less, regardless of life and death, and the number of people makes up for the lack of equipment and combat literacy. But that was twenty years ago, and today's tactics are blitzkrieg, armored warfare, and air-ground warfare; it is obvious that the Soviet army's tactical thinking is completely out of date.

Hoffman chuckled. "I wish they had stayed so stupid, then this battle would have been easier to win."

As he spoke, one flare after another hit the sky. The pale flares emitted a dazzling light, making the night sky look like daylight, causing those who had adapted to the darkness to involuntarily squint their eyes.

"Fire!!"

Following the commander's order to fire, the machine gunner aimed at the crowd rushing over in the distance and pulled the trigger.

"Tu tu tu tu!"

As mentioned earlier, MG3 is different from MG42 in that it can adjust the rate of fire. Equipped with a 550-gram bolt and equipped with an N-type buffer, the rate of fire can exceed 1,200 rounds per minute. When replaced with a bolt that weighs 950 grams and is equipped with an R-type buffer, the rate of fire can be reduced to 700 to 900 rounds per minute. At this time, the machine gun was equipped with a 550-gram bolt, and the red tracer bullets it sprayed formed a fire whip, sweeping towards the attacking Soviet troops crookedly. Although it only has a bipod, the shooting stability of the MG3 machine gun is still quite good. The slight vibration also makes the distribution of ammunition slightly spread, which has a better suppression effect.

The attacking Soviet troops were too dense, and the machine gunner directly squeezed the trigger, burning out the 500-round ammunition chain in an instant, and the barrel of the gun burned red. "Change the barrel!"

Replacing the barrel of the MG3 is very simple. The loader wears heat-insulating gloves to open the latch and cover ring, pulls out the hot barrel and throws it aside, and quickly replaces it with a new barrel. The whole process does not even take ten seconds; loading Put on a new ammunition belt, and the machine gun once again made a frightening sound of tearing cloth.

They are not the only machine guns here. Apart from these machine guns, most of the other soldiers have automatic firepower. The intensive firepower formed a terrifying firepower network in front of the charging Soviet soldiers. How could the Soviet soldiers, most of whom were holding Mosin-Nagan rifles, be the opponents of these powerful firepowers? The Soviet attack became like a moth flying to the ground. fire.

A few minutes later, an even more terrifying sound sounded not far away. It was a "Cheetah" self-propelled anti-aircraft gun parked nearby. The turret is equipped with four 20mm aviation cannons. The maximum rate of fire of a single barrel is 850 to 1000 rounds per minute. When this kind of firepower is used to deal with infantry, it can only be described as inhumane slaughter. Wherever the tracer bullets of the self-propelled anti-aircraft guns hit, large gaps would immediately appear.

"Ula!!"

At this moment, more shouts joined in, and another group of Soviet soldiers rushed to the ground and rushed toward the German defense line crazily. Among the crowd, a young Soviet political commissar waved a pistol and shouted loudly. "For the Soviets! Move forward!" Before he could finish his words, a large-caliber artillery shell landed near him, and the shock wave of the explosion instantly tore the political commissar and the people around him into pieces.

The German artillery units also joined in. Artillery shells of various calibers fell like raindrops on the attacking crowd. Blood spattered among the crowd. Countless young soldiers trembled and fell down, and there were already several places where they fell. layers of corpses that have not yet cooled down.

The Soviet soldiers who were attacking crazily finally felt something was wrong, but they did not retreat. Seeing the comrades around them being knocked down one by one by German bullets, the remaining Soviet soldiers roared like wounded beasts and tried to break through the German positions again and again with their own weapons.

"Ula!"

The Soviet night attack lasted all night, and Commander Bock did not get much rest all night.

"These crazy people." Listening to the gunfire in the distance gradually subsided, Commander Bock took another sip of coffee to refresh himself. "That Marshal Shaposhnikov can't sit still so quickly?" They have only been attacking for a day, and the opponent is so impatient to get started? If the entire Smolensk was not surrounded by them, Commander Bock would even suspect that these Soviets had some conspiracy.

"Have the casualties of our army been counted?"

"Report to the commander, the specific data has not been calculated yet." A staff report reported. "The total losses of each army are about six to seven hundred people, and there may be some discrepancies."

Commander Bock nodded. "Where's the Soviet army?"

"About 60,000 to 70,000 people? There are mountains of corpses in some places. I'm afraid there will be more."

"That's 1:100? This deal is really a good deal. I'm afraid the Soviets will be heartbroken." A smile appeared on Commander Bock's face and he ordered. "The soldiers on the front line fought all night. Replace them all and rest for a day. Let the logistics troops deal with the corpses as soon as possible." It is June now. Although it has not yet reached the hottest period, so many corpses are piled together. We cannot ignore it, as the plague will spread within a few days. "Let the construction trucks come in, dig a big hole and bury it on the spot, or burn it on the spot."

"Yes!" The staff officer saluted and conveyed the order.

On the other side of the Soviet command headquarters, the atmosphere in the combat conference room could be said to have dropped to freezing point. Last night's night attack not only failed to achieve any effective results, but also lost tens of thousands of soldiers in vain. This result made Commander Shaposhnikov's heart seem to bleed.

You know, almost 100,000 people were lost in one day, which is equivalent to the entire infantry army being wiped out! This loss can be said to be quite huge and cannot be afforded by the Soviet army.

"I will take full responsibility for the failure of this attack." After a long silence, Commander Shaposhnikov slowly said. "Everyone can tell us what they think. How should we fight back against the Germans?"