Chapter 2467 Nightmare Recollection

"Do you think the Russians will kill us? I mean, after they take Berlin, I almost no longer doubt whether this can be achieved."

Friedman's tone is full of all kinds of negative emotions you can think of. He has completely despaired of everything he has fought for so far, just as the Russians are crushing Berlin in the roar of artillery fire, while also crushing his soul and will.

"I say, is there something wrong with your brain?"

The wounded prisoner who was just awakened from his sleep was obviously not in a good mood, but he was also awakened by the shock, and his tone of voice was full of gunpowder.

"If the Russians want to kill you, they don't even need to do it. They just throw you under the rubble and you will die by yourself, without any sound."

"I don't know why the Russians saved you. In my opinion, you are worthless. You are just a rookie who is responsible for stuffing shells into the cannon barrel in the turtle shell. I exchanged my intelligence for them to save my life, otherwise I would have bled to death."

"And you? Worthless, I really don't know what's wrong with the Russians to save you. Maybe they want to see how tough you are? It's really a miracle that you didn't die. I'm serious."

The old soldier and ruffian captive naturally didn't know that what he said unintentionally was really fucking right. You can never imagine what strange habits and bad tastes an old hunter from Siberia would have when dealing with his prey.

Maybe it was just to observe the vitality and subsequent reaction of the prey, or maybe it was for some other reason.

But in short, Friedman, who was almost suffocated to death by a cannon of the 152 Cult in the bunker, did survive, and he was the only one in the entire collapsed ruins of the bunker.

"Damn, these stinky Russians took away all my cigarettes. I'm so itchy. I really want to have a cigarette to relieve my boredom. Wait, do you have any cigarettes?"

The old soldier and ruffian captive scratched his head and focused his attention on Friedman. The young, pale, weak and one-armed captive just shook his head.

"I don't smoke"

"Don't smoke? You've only been drafted for less than a month? All the rookies I've seen who have been here for more than a month smoke. I didn't expect there is still one who doesn't even smoke."

The old soldier's mouth is as elegant and easy-going as a toilet in a public toilet that hasn't been flushed for three months.

He cursed or used dirty words all the time, and seemed very impatient. If it were an ordinary person, he would have turned against him or directly punched him.

But the weak Friedman just sat quietly on the bed, letting the sweat on his forehead flow down his cheeks. He sat there without anger or any reaction, not knowing what he was thinking.

"You little brat is like a piece of wood, boring as hell"

He waved his hand impatiently as if to drive away a fly, but then turned his head again after a few seconds of silence. The bored old soldier captive could only look for trouble, and no matter how boring the fool in front of him was, he could only continue to chat with him.

"What did you dream about just now? Why did you scare you like that? It was as if a ghost was pinching your neck."

The old soldier recalled what was wrong just now and chose to take the initiative to answer his questions, but all he got was Friedman's trembling answer as he slowly raised his head.

"I dreamed of the scene where I almost died, the Russian shells were coming towards us, I was torn to pieces in the explosion, and even the collapsed ruins did not spare me and smashed me into a pulp"

""

The old soldier who was cursing and speaking elegantly and easily just now stopped talking and even became quieter than ever before.

Looking at Friedman's trembling appearance and listening to his fearful words, the old soldier who had seen all kinds of things probably knew that mental trauma was probably more fatal and difficult to recover from than physical loss.

The old soldier changed his attitude just now and changed his posture instantly, and began to speak quietly with a caring tone like a senior leading a junior.

"But that didn't happen. You survived, just like now. This is your miracle. It made your body a legend. Now your spirit should also keep up with this change and become a legend, otherwise you will be just a zombie with a broken spirit."

"Of course, no one can help you with this. It all depends on you."

""

Seeing that the little brat in front of him didn't speak and was still very scared, the old soldier who didn't get tired of it could only continue to speak slowly.

"You should tell me what happened at that time, recall it, and then muster up the courage to speak out. If you always escape, you will never get out of it. That nightmare will haunt you until you die."

""

Fredman in front of him still didn't speak, sitting there like a piece of wood, still motionless.

Seeing this, the old soldier finally got angry. He felt that he had been talking to a dog for a long time, and he should have made some movements, bared his teeth or wagged his tail. This kind of motionlessness and lack of reaction is the most infuriating. It feels like all the words and kindness just now have been thrown into the dung pit.

"You bastard, you want to die like this, right? If you don't look at it..."

"I dreamed of a scene that I should not have seen. It was very real, just like the real thing, but it didn't happen. I'm sure of that. The Russian artillery vehicles just opened fire almost at the same time as us, and then I didn't know anything and it was all black. When my memory was fuzzy, I vaguely remembered that the Russians continued."

The old soldier's eyes were shining, perhaps because of his own interest, or perhaps because he wanted to help. In short, his next words were indeed blurted out without thinking.

"How about continuing? Go on."

"Continue the attack! Quick! Follow up, protect the self-propelled artillery! Follow me!!!"

The biggest troubles in front of them were solved, and the German bunkers and fortifications that blocked the road were all sent to the sky in a series of shots.

Alsim, who personally led the team to resume the offensive, called on his soldiers to continue to move forward. The three huge ISU-152A vehicles, which were traveling together, joined their combat team and fought side by side. Just like the Stalin heavy tanks, they provide close-range direct fire support, at least until a new request for fire support is sent.

So for Alsim, this has become a matter of time. The only thing he needs to do is to lead the team forward and continue the attack without even looking at the collapsed ruins at his feet, protecting the three powerful but fragile ISU-152A tanks from being harassed by reinforcements, so that he can solve his own problems.

However, Alsim did not expect that when he returned to clean up the battlefield soon, he would find a German who was surprisingly strong even to himself under the collapsed ruins.