Chapter 1127 Desperate Howling

The huge flames tore through the welded rolled homogeneous steel armored vehicle body, rapidly spreading into a huge fireball that shook the earth.

The heavy turret was lifted up vertically and launched out like a rocket. After the flames receded, the headless tiger body was left with only a burning headless corpse, or a steel crematorium filled with charred pieces of meat. Either way of description is acceptable and appropriate.

Wittmann, who had experienced this scene once, witnessed the tragedy again. The Tiger tanks newly incorporated into his command were once again smashed to slag and torn into pieces by a single shot from those Russian monsters.

The steel parts in the sky were blown to the ground and scattered by the strong shock wave of the explosion. After all, the person who didn't want to die would be his own Wittmann, but it was also difficult to endure such a tragic situation.

It is true that if a friend dies, I will not die. I must find ways to survive. The dead can't do anything.

However, the scene in front of him was not what he wanted. He could do nothing but watch it happen. He could not do anything, let alone stop it.

The Russian heavy tanks were so powerful that they were almost impossible to resist. With Wittmann's command experience, he could not even think of how to reasonably fight these monsters.

When the black muzzle turned to point at him, Wittmann swore that he did not trust the seemingly reliable and heavy armor of the car at all. The strong sense of crisis and the feeling of being strangled by the throat under the guidance of his keen sixth sense were so oppressive that he could not breathe! All he could do was to avoid the black muzzle, unless he really did not want to live, there would be an exception.

The big beads of sweat slid down his cheeks and dripped on his boots, making a crisp but imperceptible sound.

No one could hear this secret sound, just like no one could see through Wittmann's true state of mind at the moment.

"Stop! The Russians have overfired! Fire before it reloads, hit its turret, hurry up!"

The command, almost like a roar, echoed in the turret. The gunner who received the order quickly stepped on the steering pedal under his feet, driving the heavy tiger head to guide the slender gun barrel to aim at the target. The main gun was fired with a roar of electric shock only a moment later.

Boom-

Ding-bang-

Swish-

It was already unknown how many times that Wittmann had been useless, and he was even a little numb. It seemed that a shot was ineffective and it was natural and inevitable to be bounced off by a ricochet. Destroying the Russian tank was just a fantasy.

The armor-piercing shell that hit the enemy's left face shield in Wittmann's perspective was bounced straight and shot obliquely into the sky without any suspense, leaving a bright tracer like a falling meteor.

Another failure was not unacceptable, but at this moment Wittmann felt that he was really going crazy in his heart.

The side of the turret, the front of the turret, the gun shield at the root, and even the most vulnerable side of the body of an ordinary tank, the Tiger tank under him, which was famous for its fierce 88 gun, had tried everything, but no matter what, it could not penetrate this monster tank that was almost invincible and no different.

The word "weakness" does not apply to the steel monster in front of him. Wittmann really wanted to scream like crazy. What is the real weakness of this Russian heavy tank that was made by who knows how! ?

Not only Wittmann's car, but also the Tigers who came with Wittmann, and even the remaining Panther and Panzer IV in front of the position, all concentrated their fire on the ultimate target that stood like a rock in the storm.

A full six armor-piercing shells fell on the most solid front main armor defense belt of the entire tank with a shrill whistle.

Sparks flew and tracers danced in the clanging sound, but the steel monster that was parked steadily in place was too lazy to move, just like a giant bear resting in its own territory, ignoring all the tickling attacks.

Wittmann clearly saw that there were several more uneven shallow pits on the main armored defense belt of the monster. The entire front armor of the vehicle was more like the surface of the moon with pits and dents than a moment ago, almost the same.

Everyone was expecting a miracle to happen, praying that one of the armor-piercing shells had penetrated the armor, but it just didn't cause the ammunition to explode. Soon, a dizzy and bloody Russian would open the lid of the car and struggle to climb out, trying to abandon the car and escape to save his life.

The mechatronics officers who held the vehicle's heading machine guns swore not to let go of these Russians who abandoned the car and escaped. With the blood of so many comrades on his hands, it would be best to let these hateful Russians die with their steel monsters.

However, the God of War once again chose to stand on the side of the enemy, abandoning the SS armored soldiers who were screaming.

"Oh, damn! God! That monster is still moving, he is turning the turret! It's really hell!"

"Enrit! The turret is aiming at you, reverse! Reverse quickly to avoid it!"

"Cover me! Reverse, quickly! Reverse immediately"

"Uh ah ah ah ah!!!"

Boom --

Zizizizi --

The blind noise of the radio being forcibly interrupted, accompanied by a huge sky-high flame, instantly rose from the ground and shook people's hearts.

Nothing is more terrifying than being hit by the Russian monster's cannon. Before, they were penetrated by those Russian heavy tanks that had already replaced the new cannon but the caliber increase was not so excessive. With the wide body space of the Panther and Tiger, it was possible to dilute some of the explosion effects, and one or two people survived by chance.

But in front of this cannon whose caliber is still unknown, the only scene of being penetrated that Wittmann witnessed was the explosion of the car on the spot, one after another! The corpses were blown up, the heads and bodies were separated, and the turrets were raised several meters or even more than ten meters high as if they were launched! The whole car was blown to pieces and directly restored to the state of parts.

Another Panther tank that did not belong to him was blown into pieces. The blackened and burning turret and the engine that flew out of the power compartment fell in two different directions and formed a straight line with the wreckage of the car body. The distance between them was probably ten meters, which was shocking.

Wittmann, who had connected to the public radio communication channel to facilitate coordinated operations, heard the tragic howling of the Panther commander before he died, watching the enemy fire at him but being powerless to do anything. What kind of desperate experience was this, like falling into the abyss! ?