Chapter 955 The End of the Storm (IV)

The fatal bullets hit again at a high speed, hitting the man who fell down the tank turret without any preparation, but the face of Captain Varosha, who had been following the tank closely, was full of surprise.

"Chershenkov!"

Captain Varosha, who has been on the battlefield for a long time, is used to seeing death, and he is able to suppress his emotions and keep a cool head to continue commanding operations when his soldiers are sacrificed. This is the basic principle of a mature commander and combatant.

But this calmness and composure are not absolute.

As long as the meaning of the fallen person is important enough, emotion is enough to defeat reason in an instant and drive the body to make some desperate and even unreasonable actions, just as Malashenko said when Nikolai fell. Doing the same thing

Holding the Bobosha submachine gun in his arms, the cat lowered his waist and ran forward at a high speed.

The feet of Captain Varosha, who relied on experience and feeling to compete with each other, were covered with a burst of snowflakes and frozen soil stirred up by the German bullets. The IS1 heavy tank with a limited front projection area could not block the German firepower coming from all directions. Especially when Captain Varosha himself insisted on running towards a place where the tank could not cover, the situation became more serious and impossible. tidy.

"There's someone running quickly next to the tank, the one you just attacked!"

As an observer, Kurt faithfully performed his mission. Wilt, whose finger was always on the trigger, did not give any answer, but the aiming baseline accompanying the muzzle was indeed aimed at that target. Running fast to the target.

"Hmm, interesting"

boom--

The gunfire that rang out instantly overshadowed the soft muttering that even Kurt didn't have time to hear clearly. The reason why Wilt chose to attack was not because of the great effect of Kurt's words, but because of the current situation. Within the scope of his vision, this Russian was the only one who looked most like an officer worth killing with his own hands.

The prey had just held the submachine gun in one hand and waved the other hand wildly to direct the movement forward. Wilt could clearly see it through the scope.

The reason why he didn't fire just now was not because Wilt felt pity or anything else, it was just that the bullet hitting his arm was not fatal.

Wilt, who has his own hunting habit, hates the feeling of having to shoot his prey a second time. This time, he felt a sense of frustration and shame, as if someone was laughing in his ear because his marksmanship was poor and not superb. .

When the trigger was pulled again, Wilt, who was extremely calm, was very sure that his bullet would definitely penetrate the Russian officer's chest, tear his muscles, shatter his internal organs, and cause him to lose blood rapidly. In the coldness, he felt the death that was gradually swallowing his whole body.

What a beautiful way to die, isn't it?

However, not everything in this world will develop in the direction of people's ideals and achieve results. For example, the IS1 heavy tank lying in front of the prey suddenly changed its course.

Ding-ding——

crackling——

“Holy shit!!!”

Malashenko, who was observing the battlefield with his hand on the commander's periscope, was startled. A bullet that flew from nowhere hit the commander's sight directly in front of him, pushing Malashenko to the right. A piece of the commander's periscope lens on the side was shattered.

The bullet's warhead did not continue to advance after shattering the lens. Instead, it ricocheted in a very strange manner and got stuck in the commander's periscope.

For a moment, Malashenko was really frightened. He stared at everything in front of him and gasped. The bullet head, which was only ten centimeters away from his eyes, had become distorted and looked like it was about to break at the waist. It was very close. Malashenko could even feel the remaining warmth on the bullet's head with his cheek.

"Kiril, high-explosive bombs! Continue!"

"Wait a minute! There are no high-explosive bombs in the first ammunition rack. I have to go to the car body to move ammunition. Give me some time!"

"Then hurry up!"

The roar of the diesel engine inside the car and the sound of fighting outside the car were so chaotic that no one among the remaining crew members, including Iushkin and Kirill, who were also in the turret, noticed Marashin. Ke continued to concentrate on the unexpected situation on his side and plunged into the fierce battle that burned all his flesh and blood.

Malashenko, who was in disbelief at what was happening in front of him, stretched out his right hand and pulled out the still-warm deformed bullet from the frame of the commander's periscope on the right hand side in front of him, which had been completely shattered. He placed it in the palm of his hand separated by a layer of black leather gloves and looked at it.

"It's a rifle bullet. Is this a stray bullet? Or did you encounter a German sniper again!? If it's a stray bullet, you're damn lucky!"

The skeptical Malashenko didn't know what kind of enemy he had encountered. Captain Varosha, who was lucky enough to save his life due to Malashenko's unintentional act of commanding the vehicle, had no idea that he had just arrived at the gate of death. Not knowing anything about the previous trip, he only focused on running to his comrade with whom he had a close personal relationship, taking him into his arms and hugging him.

"Oh, my God! Blood, you lost a lot of blood! Don't move, I'll ask someone to carry you down right now!"

As soon as he ran to Platoon Commander Chershenkov, the first thing Captain Varosha saw was the large amount of blood flowing, so much so that even the snow under his body melted a lot, forming an endless A big blood puddle.

"Poof! Cough-cough-cough-cough-"

Every time he coughed violently, the wound in the center of his chest would continue to spurt blood outward at an accelerated rate.

Platoon leader Cheershenkov, who was holding on to his last breath with his strong body, could not tolerate what was about to happen.

He did not want to watch his best childhood friend die in this hellhole with himself, who was already dead.

"Are you crazy? Valosha! I can't be saved, I know it! If you don't want to die, hurry up and catch up with the tank!"

"But you"

"No buts! Remember, the Germans have snipers, they should be on the tall building in front of you on the right! Now go! Go!"

He grabbed Captain Valosha's collar and threw him back desperately. The familiar face of his best friend disappeared from his sight like a flashing slide, leaving only a gradually fading afterimage that slowly faded in his gradually dimming consciousness.

"Charge! Keep charging, destroy the fascists!"

"Follow the tank! One more person to operate the machine gun!"

"Ura!!!"

The sound of the comrades' footsteps quickly across the ground echoed clearly in my ears, and the trembling of the winter earth shaken by the steel tracks came from under me

Platoon leader Chershenkov, who had used up the last bit of his strength, no longer had the strength to move his body.

The colorful vision gradually dimmed and became like a gray-white photo, and the cold body could hardly feel even a trace of temperature

In the last moments of his life, the humming in his murmuring mouth was the music that represented victory.

"The defense is unbreakable, the city is unmoved, and we vow to wipe out the invasion"