Chapter 2147: Destruction in Progress (Part 2)

"We destroyed it! We destroyed it! That fascist car is paralyzed, haha!"

"Well done! Boys, keep reloading! Quick!"

At a distance of one kilometer, you can't expect to see with your naked eyes what the German car looks like and what the damage is, but it's not a big problem for normal vision humans who are neither nearsighted nor astigmatism to see several figures escaping from the tank that suddenly stopped.

The young artillery soldiers cheered that the first round of shells was fired and achieved results, but the more mature and stable veteran gunner was much calmer. He just reminded his soldiers to reload and aim again without panicking or cheering.

He knew that the German tanks that rushed over were far from giving up, and it was too early to celebrate the victory now.

The heavy cannon crew fired the first shot, but it also exposed their position. The Germans, who were prepared for this situation, quickly took action.

"At 11 o'clock, the Russians' heavy anti-tank gun, large caliber! Kill it first!"

The order issued by the inter-vehicle radio was naturally not for the tanks that were charging, but for the anti-tank destroyers, or "self-propelled artillery" that were in the rear.

Using the scrap iron man as a self-propelled artillery was a "traditional skill" that the Germans had in Kursk, and now it is just a continuation of the old business.

The scrap iron man, who has entered a static combat state, slowly turned the body of the car. The double-flow transmission and the hard off-road road surface unique to winter made it easier to aim. This huge and bulky turretless armored beast quickly aimed the black hole of the long 88 main gun at the target.

"Enemy anti-tank gun, 11 o'clock!"

"Grenade ready!"

"Aimed!"

"Fire!"

Boom--

Swoosh--

Boom--

The muzzle fire burst out and the shells hit and exploded into a ball of dust. Everything happened in a blink of an eye.

There was more than one German firepower unit aiming at this exposed anti-tank gun position. In addition to this scrap iron man, there were two other scrap iron men and three cheetahs around it. A total of six vehicles fired one after another, in order to eliminate this threatening large-caliber heavy anti-tank gun in the shortest time.

Buzz--buzz--

When the gunner regained consciousness with a buzzing sound in his head, he felt as if his whole body no longer belonged to him and he had completely lost consciousness.

The last scene he remembered before his eyes went black was the violent scene of the whistling shells fired by the Germans, which were fired and exploded in front of his gun position and on both sides.

The carefully constructed gun bunker saved his life. The careful preparation of lowering the cannon barrel to almost the horizon greatly reduced the exposed frontal projection area of ​​the gun, and of course also reduced the aiming baseline, making the gun crew safer.

The 88mm high-explosive grenade, which was not too powerful, finally knocked him down in the traffic trench connected to the gun bunker. After temporarily losing consciousness, he was finally able to stand up and continue to fight.

But the scene left in front of him after the bombardment was obviously not good, and it could only be said to be very bad.

The scattered large-caliber projectile fragments cut several deep cuts on the gun barrel at the root of the gun, and the breech block was also scarred by the flying projectile fragments. Some shrapnel was even directly embedded in the breech block. Even if a big man pulled it out with his bare hands, it would probably take some effort.

Any experienced artillerymen who encounter this scene know that if they don't want to die in their own positions because of the explosion of the artillery, it is better not to use this gun.

The breech block will not explode, and the barrel will explode. There is a high probability that either of the two possibilities will occur. No one knows whether the obviously damaged breech block and the gun root can withstand the extremely high gun chamber pressure when firing. Even a 122mm shell can take away the entire gun crew in an instant.

However, the young gunner with blood all over his face and blackened by smoke stains has no other gun crew members under his command. Now he is the only one left.

Looking at the comrades in the gun crew lying on the ground in a mess, none of them are still moving, and looking at the surrounding positions where there are already loud gunfire and explosions, projectiles and bullets flying in all directions, and the rest of the anti-tank gun positions are also being directly bombarded by the Germans, and the comrades who are constantly firing back.

The young gunner, whose helmet flew away without knowing where it went and whose little finger-long cut on his forehead was bleeding, gritted his teeth and then made a very surprising move.

The open ammunition box at his feet was filled with neatly stacked bullets, and the thing that fell on the ground in front of the breech block was a propellant cartridge.

The body of the loader, who had been killed by shrapnel before he could load it into the breech block, was still hanging on the side of the breech block, dripping blood and motionless.

The young gunner, dragging his wounded body and vowing to fight the fascist devil to the end, just opened the body of his comrade without saying a word, picked up the propellant cartridge and put it into the open barrel with both hands. He still remembered that a bullet had been pushed into the barrel.

Crash——

Bang——

The metallic sound of the cartridge rubbing against the barrel echoed in his ears along with the sound of the breech block closing. The young gunner who had finished loading alone picked up the gun rope on the ground again, and wound it around his bloody hands again and again, gritted his teeth and endured the pain in his body. He finally stopped when he could aim and fire at the gunner's position.

"Dad, I want to go boating on the Moscow River. You said you would take me there."

"Aleena, be good, stay at home with your grandparents. When Dad drives away those German fascists, he will definitely take you there. Dad keeps his word."

The past memories of that day were somehow reflected in his mind at this moment. That cute and lovely face and the voice that he would never forget in his life echoed in his ears.

"Comrade Lieutenant, I am saddened to inform you that your lover died on the way to the field hospital. Please accept my condolences."

The slowly moving Fassi tank has been firmly locked by the blood-stained right eye. The arm that desperately cranked the handwheel to aim at the target has stopped, and the tightly wound gun rope is tightly held in the hand, as if the firm belief and will have never let go.

"Aleena, Daddy will always be by your side!"

"Fire!"