Chapter 2961 We Did It

Even the longest air raids have to come to an end.

When the dust settled from the rain of fire from rockets and bombs, the "Slavic swarm" that covered the sky and the sun finally went away with the roar of the engine.

What was left for the remaining SS was not a life after the catastrophe, but a Russian mechanized army that rushed up with its feet on the loose soil and throttled all the way.

Shortly after the end of the air raid, the sound of gunfire and explosions soon rang out again, but this time it was not from the sky, but the final fight on the ground.

It is more appropriate to say that it was the final cleanup of the battlefield.

A considerable number of SS died in the unprecedentedly intense terrorist air raids, and many of the remaining survivors were forced to be conscripted men. They had no intention of fighting to the death, and after escaping in the chaos, how could they have the mind to come back and continue to accompany these Nazi lunatics who captured them as men to die?

Hate these Nazi bastards who want to kill you, why don't you just die quickly? Expect those forcibly captured men to be in the same mind with your defeated Nazis?

It's more likely to expect Roosevelt, who just left for a while, to suddenly announce that he was temporarily dead, resurrected, and then announced that he would help Germany to fight against the Soviet Union.

A lot of people died, and a lot of people ran away.

The rest are only those fanatical Nazi remnants who still have the mind and the idea to fight again, but neither the reality nor the physical condition is enough to support their will to turn into actual action.

Most of these fanatics who survived the air raid were bombed to the point of being limp all over, as if their skin was peeled off and their muscles were cramped.

The whole person was like a mud monster, and even his legs were shaking when he stood up against the wall. As for dizziness, tinnitus, and tremors, they were basic conditions, and almost everyone had them.

Do you expect such a group of SS stragglers who have almost been "harmlessly treated" to stop the leader division that is coming with tanks, artillery and mechanized infantry? Even the shampooer himself would shake his head if he saw it in person.

The process was expected, and the result was reasonable.

These remnants of resistance, which were not organized at all and mostly fought in groups of three or two or even on their own, were basically cleared out by the large force of the leader division that rushed over in less than a cup of tea.

The short and limited-intensity gunfire exchange passed quickly, and when the big battles died down one after another, the remaining sound of the two or three supplementary guns and cleaning was still echoing in the sky.

"So everything is over? Just like that??"

The tone sounded a little unbelievable. It can be seen that Iushkin is still not satisfied and is still thinking about fighting a few more rounds and killing more Nazis.

Malashenko remained silent and chose not to comment. He pushed open the turret hatch on his head and leaned his upper body out of the car.

The moment he breathed the so-called "fresh air" outside the car, what caught Malashenko's eyes was the afterglow of the fierce battle on the purgatory-like battlefield.

The corpses lying in all directions, and the various pieces of meat, limbs and arms that were not even "corpses", almost covered every inch of land and every corner within the sight.

The wreckage of the destroyed King Tiger and Jagdtiger was still burning fiercely. The No. 4, whose body was blown to half, could barely be seen as a late-model No. 4. As for the turret of the "German Killer Aerospace", it had been blown away to some place by the huge explosion wave, and Malashenko didn't care anyway.

Thick smoke engulfed the battlefield, jumping and spreading with the flames. The air was filled with incompletely burned gunpowder smoke, strong and pungent smell of burnt barbecue and huge amounts of blood.

Malashenko has been to many cruel battlefield relics, but to be honest, it is rare to see a battlefield relic like the one in front of him now.

That's not to say that he has never encountered it before, at least in the ranking of the tragic battlefield relics encountered by Malashenko, it is definitely among the top three.

With a folding stock slung over his shoulder, he jumped down from the turret and stepped on the ruins of the King's Square, where even the soil was warm.

The moment he landed, he felt something strange under his feet. It didn't feel like he was stepping on the ground, but more like he was stepping into a cotton cover. Malashenko said nothing, bent down and grabbed the rather hot floating soil on the ground, rubbed it a little, and the sharp stinging sensation immediately went straight into his mind from his palm.

"One, two, three, four, five, eight, eight pieces of shell skin."

Malachenko, who just grabbed a handful of random soil and counted it carefully, found eight pieces of metal fragments of different sizes and shapes.

Perhaps they were left after the explosion of the bomb, or they could be rockets or howitzer shells, or even residual evidence left after a tank main gun fired.

No one can count how many explosives the Red Army has projected on King Square and at the foot of the Reichstag today, and how many Nazis have been killed. Even Malachenko, who looked up at the dome of the Reichstag, couldn't tell clearly.

Looking at the victory flag fluttering in the wind, Malachenko had an indescribable feeling in his heart.

It seemed like excitement and emotion, but it was more like a perfect explanation for what he had been fighting for for a long time.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

Following the commander's action, he jumped down from the turret and stood on the ruins of the King's Square, which was in a mess and full of tragic scenes. He looked up at the magnificent red flying high on the top of the Capitol.

Even Iushkin, who was always careless and habitually spoke irrelevantly, couldn't help but have strong emotional fluctuations at this moment, just because of the red flying on the top of the Capitol.

"It's been too long. We have waited too long for this moment. From 41 years to today, everything is just for today! So many good people, so many people who love us and our loved ones, they didn't wait until today, and they fell on the road to progress."

"After paying so much, this day finally came for us! We fought and fought for it with our own hands!"

On the turret of the car behind him, the slogan "Revenge for the hero Kirill" painted by himself is still there.

After such a long war, the vehicles have been weathered and scratched, but this sentence has remained unchanged in the hearts of Iushkin and the entire 177 crew.

Reaching out and gently stroking the cold slogan, the scenes and familiar voices and smiles of the past are still in my mind.

"Do you see it? Brother, this is our victory! We did it!"