Chapter 2359 The Flying American Fat Man

Of course, there is much more to do than just bragging and chatting here.

Although they kept talking, Wittmann and his brothers were also busy.

You go pick up branches, I go pick up leaves, and he goes to pick up a large bush.

In this way, while working and chatting to kill time, Wittmann and his brothers basically gathered the required camouflage materials, and one by one, they began to help put on makeup for this lame 70-ton queen.

"Give me that grass, that one."

"How about putting it here? Should it be a little more to the right? Will it block the view of the gun mirror?"

"Hang this under the bow, insert it next to the towing cable buckle, and add another one here."

Everyone used local materials and collected materials to camouflage the huge Tiger King, inserting or hanging branches with leaves and bundles of shrubs in various places on the front projection of the Tiger King. After placing it, we have to ask the comrades under the car to check if it is suitable. If it is not suitable, we have to adjust the position. The brothers are really busy but also in an orderly manner.

Wittmann, who was directing the camouflage work beside the car, looked at the time on his watch and found that more than ten minutes had passed since he entered the woods. Then he looked up at the top of the tree next to him, which was the closest and tallest. At a glance, he saw a familiar figure with his back to him, looking into the distance with a telescope.

"Herschel, did you see anything?"

The figure sitting on the tree branch seven or eight meters above the ground turned his head and looked at the ground. He looked at Wittmann's figure and then spoke.

"Everything is normal. I didn't see a hair of the Yankees. But I didn't bring any cigarettes up. Hey Wegener, find a metal box with two cigarettes and throw them up to me. I'm craving cigarettes."

When the radio operator on the tree branch shouted, Wegener, who was busy putting grass on the edge of the gun shield, looked up and found that this old enemy was looking for trouble with him again. Disdainful words came out of his mouth.

"Myasthenia, can't throw it that high. If you want to beat it, come down and get it yourself."

"Hey! How can you do that? Did you also have myasthenia when you were dancing and playing music with the girl on the bed?"

"Are you looking for a fight? I'm going to get into the turret and shoot you!"

The two people on the ground and the tree were talking loudly. Wittmann, who didn't like this situation to continue, quietly interrupted.

"Shut up! If you want to argue, go to the car and argue. If you keep talking nonsense, we'll hang you two on the tree."

""

Wittmann's order was still very effective. The two chattering little brats shut their mouths on the spot. The experience of the only old man in the car was indeed recognized by everyone, and there was no need to ask more nonsense.

"Do you think those Americans will come? If not, won't we work in vain? Huh?"

After finishing all the work at hand, Wegener sat down on the turret and the car body armor, took out the cigarettes and lighter in his pocket and began to "worship God" and smoke. Wittmann under the car also sat on the track and lit a cigarette for himself, and spoke quietly with a fairy air in his mouth.

"Wait, I don't know if they will come, I just guess they will. Those Americans always like to save face and act strong, there is no reason to be an exception this time."

"If you hit him on the left cheek, will he give you the right cheek? Ha, I like these Americans, I am serious about this, I like their character of being a pair even if they are beaten."

Wegener, who was standing by the turret, was still laughing and mocking, but he did not expect a violent whistle from the distance above his head, which followed him unexpectedly.

"Oh, oh, American planes! Flies are coming! Hide! Herschel, be careful not to fall! Hold on to the tree trunk and hide! Quick!"

While he was busy rushing down from the turret, he did not forget to remind his bad friends in the tree. As soon as Wegener's feet touched the ground, he was immediately pressed down by Wittmann, who was holding a cigarette in his mouth, and pressed into the bushes on the side. His reaction speed was not even as fast as Wittmann's hand strength.

"Get down, get down quickly! Get down nice and well!"

The four people who had just finished their work beside the Tiger King under the tree were now like frightened rabbits, not daring to act rashly. Including Wittmann, they could only lie down in the grass beside the car, cautiously and vigilantly, watching the two small black spots in the sky approaching from afar.

"Two? Why only two? Don't those Americans always cover the sky and the sun?"

Wegener, who was lying on the ground like a thief and still looking at the sky, complained in a low voice, and the main loader who was also looking at the sky with big eyes added immediately.

"Aren't two enough to knock down your tank? Do you underestimate the power of aerial bombs?"

"Not that I underestimate it, but those Americans are not very accurate in throwing them, ha."

The low complaints on the ground were accompanied by the violent whistling in the sky. The two American planes approaching from afar quickly jumped into the field of vision clearly visible to the naked eye, and they really flew over the woods.

"Damn it! It's the Yankee's flying milk bottle. I'll never forget this flying fat guy!"

Two P-47 fighters painted in the standard color of the US Army Air Force flew very low, so low that the Wittmann brothers on the ground could not only clearly distinguish the iconic "Fat Man" body shape, but also clearly see the conspicuous white five-pointed star on the wings of this thing.

To make matters worse, the thing hanging under the damn fat guy was really a bit scary.

With three iron bombs of the color of dry grass and the densely arranged aviation rockets under the wings, these two flying fat guys openly declared in the most blatant way that they are absolutely not easy to mess with anything on the ground. They can easily deal with you with just a few clicks, so if possible, it is better not to provoke these two "American sumos".

"Did you say they saw us? They didn't see us, they shouldn't have seen us, right?"

Wegener, who was so nervous that sweat began to flow on his forehead, couldn't help but speak, because the two flying fat guys were obviously fucking wrong. Instead of flying low and flying over the woods, they lowered their speed to a very low level and began to tilt the fuselage to hover at low altitude, trying to find something with the good side view of the teardrop-shaped canopy. This scene really scared Wegener, who was already nervous.

"If you say a few more words of nonsense, you will be seen. If you don't believe me, you can try it."

""

Wegener, who was speechless after being rebuked by Wittmann, didn't know what to say. He could only shut his mouth honestly, continue to sweat on his forehead, and pray that the two American fat guys were really blind. He looked at the battlefield ruins not far away from the grove and left helplessly after finding nothing.

But sometimes, what you think and what happens in reality are just the opposite of what you want.

Wegener, who was still praying silently in the last second, did not expect that the terrifying tearing sound in the next second came without any warning, under the shroud of the roar of the aircraft engine.

Dada da da da da——

"Damn machine gun shooting! Shit-eating American fat guys!"