Chapter 1633 Nightmare Vs. Elite

"Machine guns, we need machine guns! Where are the machine guns!?"

"Where are the bullets!? I'm out of bullets. Does anyone have any more machine gun bullets?"

"Tanks! The German tanks are aiming at us, get down!"

boom--

In the years of World War II, the 88mm main gun of the King Tiger was definitely considered a large-caliber artillery.

Although it is not as unreasonable as the Soviet 122 and 152, this is the Western Front now. The tanks here do not have big and thick pipes, but only small water pipes.

The Tiger King relied on this bloody long 88 that was tempered on the Eastern Front battlefield. Naturally, it was unrivaled in chopping melons and vegetables. It not only knocked down the Xie Mantou of the U.S. Army, but also picked them up with ease, shot them one by one, and loaded them with high-explosive bombs. These American soldiers could easily be taken away directly, and they could be sent into the sky with a single shot, including the men and the bunkers.

Scattered blasting flames filled every wisp of air with the dust rising from the ground. Some of the American troops who were bombarded to the ground on the spot were dead, some were disabled, and some were covering their ears with their hands and shouting loudly.

They are the First Red Division, the first division of the U.S. Army that inherits glory and glory, and is the most elite ace unit.

But these American soldiers, who had never experienced the experience of World War I and were encountering the battlefields of World War II for the first time, had only just set foot on this unknown French land. They thought they would face the same opponent as the impassioned big names in the pre-war propaganda said.

The Germans are now a group of wild dogs that have been bitten by Russian polar bears. They only need to hold the dog stick and give the dying wild dog a final blow on the forehead. This lame wild dog with Hitler's head will be gone. He died on the spot.

If things go well, everyone will be able to return home triumphantly before Christmas. This is the promise made to them personally by the commander of the Dahong 1st Division standing on the deck of the landing carrier.

Only now, in the hearts of those American soldiers who are still surviving after being shot. Not to mention returning to China before Christmas, even returning to China with a broken body that is incomplete but at least alive has become an almost impossible luxury.

"Pick up your guns, soldiers! The Germans are coming. If you don't want to die, shoot me!"

Heroes on the battlefield can always serve as inspirational role models. This is the same no matter which country's army it is.

The company commander who was the first to struggle to get up recalled the classic photos, blood-stained military flags, and battle-damaged uniforms and weapons that had been baptized by countless battles in the Honor Showroom of the Red Army in the United States.

He firmly believed that this would give him strength, courage, and ultimately lead to victory and create a miracle. He once again picked up the Thompson submachine gun in his hand and called on his comrades to stand up and fight alongside him.

This brave American company commander played a very good role in taking the lead. The American soldiers around him who were shaken by the shelling also began to imitate the same pattern and pick up their guns first, regardless of the situation. Get up and hold it in your hand before talking.

The fear and despair that existed in his eyes a moment ago have now been replaced by ferocious and brave fighting. It seems that he really has the desperate aura of either you die or I live.

Seeing all this, it is not only the US military itself, but also the commander of the No. 007 King Tiger heavy tank, who is also holding the commander's periscope and is only a hundred meters away in a straight line: Michel Wittmann .

From the gap in the first-floor shop that was opened by a cannon from his car, Wittmann clearly saw the complete process of the US military officer struggling to get up and then calling on his comrades to continue fighting.

From a military point of view, Wittmann admired this US military officer as a man. His words and deeds were in line with the qualities of a real grassroots officer.

Unfortunately, he is not his comrade-in-arms, nor an allied force. Wittmann clearly knows that the existence of such an enemy will bring greater trouble to his own side. The longer he lives, the more people on your side may die. Dealing with this troublesome bastard this morning is the best choice at the moment. The principle of catching the thief first is quite practical no matter when and where it is placed on the battlefield. .

"Repeat the target! Blast in through the gap you just opened and kill the Yankee officer first!"

Wittmann, who was holding the commander's periscope with low magnification and wide field of view, could clearly see every move of the US military officer. Gunner Wegner, who was holding the high magnification and narrow field of view main gun sight, was naturally even more at ease. Down.

"As you wish, Commander."

Click——

boom--

The muzzle storm roared fiercely, and at the same time, the long 88 main gun with the narrow barrel was pushed backwards, shooting out blazing flames. The 88mm full-caliber high-explosive grenade that instantly escaped from the barrel, with astonishing acceleration potential, headed towards The target that was so close was flying away at a very fast speed, just like a sniper attack.

This time, the goddess of fate no longer favored the American company commander and his comrades. The distance of death was really too close to him, so close that even the goddess of fate couldn't do anything to help him.

The God of Death fiercely swung down the deadly scythe that had been placed on the top of the prey's head, waiting to be harvested at any time. The violent howling fire and flames that scored twice almost completely destroyed the entire first-floor shop.

Even though the US soldiers had hurriedly moved all the cabinets, wooden boards, tables and chairs in the store that could be used as temporary shelters to block and serve as shelters, it was still to no avail.

When the violent overflowing dust, dust, and scattered debris finally settled.

Wittmann, who was still holding the commander's periscope, could no longer see any moving figures in the ruins within his field of vision, and then he pressed the throat transmitter at his throat and gave orders.

"Clear the firing point, all crews, continue searching and moving forward!"

The SS soldiers holding various weapons followed their tanks, like undead harvesters wandering on the battlefield.

An SS submachine gunner holding an MP40 submachine gun came to the ruins that were completely trampled, and saw an American soldier half buried in the pile of broken bricks and tiles, with only the upper body of the bloody body exposed. He moved his bloody arm to try to get closer to his feet, and seemed to be mumbling something in his mouth.

The SS submachine gunner did not understand English, but he could probably guess from the painful tone that it was probably a plea for mercy.

Dadadada——

Without any mercy, he pulled the trigger instantly and fired a burst of bullets. After several consecutive gunshots, only the completely motionless body was left.

The smirking SS assault rifleman didn't even have the interest to kick the American soldier with his shoe sole to confirm that he was dead. His battlefield experience was enough to confirm that this man was dead and could not die any more. If he was still alive, it would be beyond the understanding of human beings.

Cruel, cold, efficient and ruthless.

If the Red 1st Division, which upholds its glorious past, compares itself to the top elite and invincible of the US Army, then there is no doubt that Wittmann and his 101st Independent Heavy Armored Battalion of the Waffen SS were the ones who came specially to wake up these American soldiers who were hot-headed from their dreams.