Chapter 1304 Death Avenger

The German troops on the battlefield fled in all directions, running faster than rabbits, like panicked groundhogs jumping around in the tunnel. Although no actual white flag has been raised so far, it is only a matter of time if the situation continues to develop in this way.

The reinforced drum with a capacity of 75 rounds per bullet and a total of 150 rounds in parallel is not very durable, especially when used by the anti-aircraft MG42 with a very fast firing rate.

Yegorovich, who was holding the machine gun on the tank turret and standing on the engine hood, quickly ran out of ammunition. Normally, when encountering such a situation on the battlefield, it would be best to have an assistant shooter come forward to help, at least handing over a brand new fully loaded drum is the most basic operation.

But Yegorovich, the violent battlefield machine gunner, has no assistant shooter, or there is almost no suitable person who can keep up with this guy's rampage rhythm.

Once this guy starts fighting, he is like a bloodthirsty madman, and will kill any prey within his sight. However, he still retains the most basic rationality and can distinguish between friends and enemies. To put it simply, he is like a giant green-purple artificial creature that will go into a rampage to protect its cubs after it runs out of power.

Yegorovich is one of the few survivors of the Sevastopol Fortress, but few people know about his bloody legendary experience, and he never mentions it to people he is not familiar with.

Even fewer people know that Yegorovich's five-year-old son, three-year-old daughter, wife, mother, and younger brother were all killed in the military civilian area of ​​Sevastopol by the Germans' shelling and bombing.

"Don't say I'm 38 now. Even if I'm 50 or 60 now, I will still continue to fight with these fascist scums! I'm for revenge. Defending the motherland and defending faith can only come second! If the Red Army doesn't take me in, I'll take a gun and fight alone! I'll keep fighting until I'm killed by the Germans or I can't find those fascist scums to kill me anymore."

In that brief moment when he stretched out his hand to change the bullet, Yegorovich inadvertently recalled that after he escaped from the fallen Sevastopol, he was subjected to a second political investigation because of his suspected identity as a prisoner.

Even now, Yegorovich doesn't feel a bit of regret for what he said at the time.

That's right, the only reason to support himself to continue fighting is revenge, nothing else.

Yegorovich only received the most basic education and couldn't read many words. Even if he was told the truth, he didn't understand it at all, let alone pay attention. Only the most basic truth of revenge and tooth for tooth was deeply imprinted in his heart and never changed.

The memories of the past like an accelerated slide quickly passed through his mind and then disappeared. Yegorovich, whose eyes were still cold and serious, was performing his actions quickly and skillfully.

The empty parallel double drum was thrown behind his head like garbage by Yegorovich, and he no longer cared about it. The spare double drum taken from the ammunition carrier on his butt was hung on the bolt and ready.

Yegorovich's right hand had already touched the upper receiver cover to buckle it down and load it, and then completed the final preparation before firing again, but he didn't have time to put it into practice. A German bullet shot from nowhere came straight at him, hitting the gun body suddenly and unexpectedly, making a "bang" sound of sparks and splashing his face.

"Oh! Fuck!"

It is true that Yegorovich is a battlefield avenger full of hatred, but this does not mean that he is obsessed with revenge and ignores other things.

Yegorovich, who had been through hundreds of battles, cherished his life more than anyone else. He always believed that only by living longer could he kill more Germans.

With his perfect fighting skills and superb sixth sense on the battlefield, Yegorovich almost let go of the machine gun in his arms at the last moment. He instantly shrank behind the tank turret like a puppet with its strings cut off to hide.

"Hoohoo, these bastards also have snipers. Why didn't I notice where they were hiding just now?"

The 92mm Mauser rifle bullet failed to hurt Yegorovich's vitals, but it penetrated the gun body of the MG42, opened a bullet hole and went through, directly scraping off a piece of flesh from Yegorovich's left hand, who was holding the machine gun at the time.

The middle part of the left hand muscle where the index finger and thumb are connected is already bleeding. Yegorovich, who raised his left hand to the front, could clearly see that the German's sudden shot almost blew away a piece of flesh as big as the thumb nail on his left hand. Although it did not hurt his fingers and did not affect the use of the gun, it was impossible to say that it did not hurt.

Yegorovich, who was determined to fight the Germans to the end, was not the kind of coward who would leave the front line with a minor injury. In this battle that had just started not long ago, there were still a lot of Germans waiting for him to kill with his own hands.

Yegorovich treated his wound quickly and roughly. A piece of rag torn from the cuff of his left arm was directly wrapped around his hand, and then wrapped around twice like a cable, and then bit and tied it with his right hand and mouth teeth. A simple battlefield bandage first aid took less than half a minute to complete.

There is no need to be surprised by Yegorovich's proficiency and speed. For him, who was covered in battle scars and had come back alive several times, this kind of thing was already a common occurrence in Sevastopol.

After the wound was bandaged and the battle was still going on, Yegorovich did not hesitate to pick up the weapon that fell on the top of the tank turret and prepare to continue fighting.

But although this was a very low probability event, it happened to Yegorovich.

The German's Mauser rifle bullet directly pierced a hole in the MG42's gun body, which was exactly the main part of the middle part of the gun body that accommodated the firing parts.

The spring and the firing pin inside were now smashed by the bullet. Yegorovich knew at a glance that his precious gun could not be used for the time being. He had to wait until the battle was over and remove some parts from other captured MG42s to repair it.

What should I do next if there is no machine gun available?

Yegorovich didn't want to pick up other weak weapons, because they were too slow to kill the Germans. Machine guns were the only choice for a real man.

Fortunately, Yegorovich, with his sharp eyes like a hawk, quickly found a substitute target: on the top of the unique IS6 heavy tank.