Chapter 1117 Blood Battlefield (Part 2)

As expected, after Lavrinenko took away a tank company and rushed to support the flank position

The SS, which had accumulated the main offensive force on the front, achieved the results they wanted, and had the best effect on the diversionary attack on the flank positions. They finally rushed into the Soviet positions that were forced to deploy troops to support the flanks.

"Hold your position! Comrades! Fix your bayonets and kill these Germans, Ulla!"

The large-scale and brutal war with hot weapons has reduced the role that individual soldiers' bravery can play in the war situation as never before.

But no matter when, the brave and fearless leader can always lead his comrades to boost their morale and fight to the end. War is the truth on the stage of brave men. Even in the modern war of the 21st century, it has remained unchanged.

Holding Bobosha in one hand and holding up the Tokarev TT33 pistol he had just drawn with the other hand, Major Varosha's shout and demonstration were like a shot of catalytic stimulant. The Red Army soldiers who had been run over by the SS tanks in the trenches above their heads immediately fought face to face with the first wave of SS infantry who rushed into the position, with blood spattered three feet away.

Major Varosha, who was protected by his personal guards, took his sights on a group of SS infantrymen who had just jumped into the trench. He raised the pistol tightly in his right hand and shot one of them instantly.

The sound of the gunshot knocked the man down, and the sound of the body falling to the ground, with half of its head shattered by the gunshot, was like a sack filled with sand, extremely dull.

On the battlefield where bullets were flying everywhere, there were loud sounds of gunfire and various roars, and it was impossible to tell the direction of the murderous bullets. However, the remaining SS infantrymen were particularly sensitive to the sound of their comrades falling, and they instantly Hiding behind the bunker, he was extremely fast.

Seeing that the remaining enemies reacted quickly and hid in the traffic trenches extending in all directions, Major Varosha, with Bobosha in one hand and Tokarev in the other, waved his hand and led his combat team to immediately rush towards the enemy's hiding position. .

Not only Major Varosha's side, the trenches and traffic trenches at the forefront of the position have basically become bloody corridors of close combat at this moment. Almost every inch of land has ferocious-looking soldiers fighting hard. , blood splattered everywhere.

The submachine gun ran out of bullets and didn't even have time to change the magazine. Facing the Mosin-Nagant with its bayonet straightened and shouting at the rushing Red Army soldiers, the assault team leader, who had no time to find any other melee weapons, could only use it. He held the weapon in his backhand, holding the hot barrel of the fired gun through his glove, and charged forward like a bat with the submachine gun.

The enemy threw him to the ground and grabbed his throat with both hands. The Red Army soldier, with his round eyes full of hatred and anger, struggled to touch the thing that fell to his hand. It was something that the Germans had knocked out during the scuffle. The steel helmet that was forcibly ripped off from his head.

He grabbed the brim of the helmet and smashed it with all his strength towards the left side of the enemy's face. The SS soldier who was caught off guard was disfigured by the ferocious blow and his face was disfigured on the spot. Blood spurted from his nostrils and he screamed as he was knocked sideways to the ground.

He threw down the steel helmet in his hand and quickly stood up and struggled from the ground. He took out the dagger from his waist while gasping for air. The Red Army soldier, whose face was bruised and bruised, with blood still flowing from the corner of his mouth, rushed forward. The sharp knife in his hand was like killing a chicken, and he killed the SS soldier who was covering the left side of his face on the spot. I wiped my neck.

The blood spurting out from the broken neck was like a faucet exploding, spewing out all over his face.

Looking at the unlucky man on the ground who was covering his neck and making a painful "drink-drink-" sound, the Red Army soldier, knowing that he had defeated the enemy, raised his right arm and used his dirty sleeve to wipe away the still warm blood on his face. As soon as he touched it, he immediately bent down to pick up the Bobosha submachine gun that fell to the ground.

The cruel battlefield will not favor either side of the warring parties, and death always comes without warning and unprepared.

The Red Army soldier who had just touched the gun body with his right hand had not had time to hold it in his hand. An SS soldier who heard the sound had already appeared at the corner at the end of the trench.

The waist shot without even having time to take aim instantly hit a string of blazing 9mm bullets all over the head and face. The sound of the soldier falling to the ground without saying a word was almost simultaneous with the sound of the bullet casing falling.

The SS soldiers who had completely exhausted the remaining ammunition of their MP40 submachine guns rushed forward. They only glanced at the two lifeless warm corpses in front of them, and then picked them up. There was a Bobosha submachine gun that obviously still had bullets left. He didn't even have time to wipe off the blood on the gun. He immediately grabbed the weapon and turned around to join the battle again.

The cruel melee fighting has completely wiped out the last trace of humanity. There are no creatures that can be called humans here, only a group of bloody humanoids that can make the beasts on the African savannah retreat.

The brutal screams and fighting sounds once even overshadowed the gunshots when automatic weapons were fired. There was not even a white knife between the swords and swords, only the red knives going in and out that were covered in blood.

The battle between the Guards Division and the 1st Stalin Guards Heavy Tank Brigade was far more intense than imagined. The two waves of elite soldiers, bearing the names of their respective leaders, fought together in the most primitive and bloody way.

No soldier took the initiative to retreat. Only the soldiers who roared wildly, after losing an enemy, took advantage of the little life time left before they were completely exhausted, and threw themselves at the next enemy again regardless of the blood all over their bodies.

The infantry fighting was unprecedentedly brutal, with blood splattering everywhere, and the rapidly grinding armor stranglehold also took place at the same time.

"Seryozha, reverse the car! Don't let the Germans get close to us, hurry!"

"Kiril, armor-piercing bullets! Hurry, hurry!"

"Comrade Brigade Commander, three tanks are rushing towards you on your left. Turn the turret quickly! Now!"

The shouts of the crew members, Kulbalov's reminder coming from the radio channel, the roar of the tank's main gun that could no longer be distinguished from the surroundings, whether it was our own or the enemy's, and the strong sound of ammunition exploding everywhere. .

Malashenko, who felt that his ears were almost going deaf, was still trying his best to command and fight desperately. Under the influence of the turbid air, big beads of sweat slid down the brim of his tank hat and past the bridge of his nose, until it fell to his feet and was killed by Kirill. There was a soft sound on top of the propellant cartridge that had just been brought over.

Under Seryosha's precise control, the IS6 heavy tank surged into the sky, spewing out a burst of black exhaust smoke. The heavy body of more than fifty tons switched to the maximum gear and began to reverse backwards, knowing that it could not penetrate the monster's front armor. The two Panthers and one No. 4 that took a roundabout attack had reached a position where they could almost completely aim their muzzles at the side armor of Malashenko's vehicle.

The IS6 turret driven by the electric steering gear was trying its best to rotate and prepare to meet the enemy. The SS gunner who was shaking the turret steering gear desperately almost dislocated his arm, but still gritted his teeth and persisted.

Who will win is determined by the roar of steel that follows.