Chapter 1124 Penetrating Armor

Ding-ding——

call out--

The huge impact sound of the armor being hit echoed in the car. Malashenko, who couldn't remember how many times his precious car had been beaten, felt his ears tingle. Now he couldn't even judge by the direction of the impact point of the impact sound. The general direction of the enemy, in other words, it is almost impossible to find the enemy without being beaten.

"Who heard it? Where did the shells come from!? Report the situation!"

Malashenko, who only felt a buzzing in his ears, shouted loudly to his crew members, while also operating the commander's periscope in his hand to not miss the opportunity to search for the target.

Just because one's own ears don't work well doesn't mean that other people's ears don't work well either. Malashenko hopes that someone in his crew will hear the specific direction of the impact point of the armor-piercing projectile just now, at least he won't get beaten. After that, I couldn't even figure out which direction the enemy was in, so I was beaten in vain.

"Nine o'clock, probably! I feel the sound is coming from my left side!"

It was Iushkin who answered Malashenko. While he was taking aim, he clearly felt that the impact of the shell hitting the armor came from the left, and there was even a slight tinnitus echo in his left ear.

But as for whether this judgment is accurate or not, Iushkin himself can't say clearly, so he uses the adjective "feeling" which is not particularly appropriate.

After waiting for about two seconds, Malashenko did not hear any other reply from the crew members, followed closely by a loud roar as the turret stopped.

boom--

Click——

Ding-ding——

The breech block was pulled back and spit out a huge hot metal propellant cartridge. The yellow-orange cartridge cases fell into the cartridge case collection box at the breech of the gun and made a crisp sound as they hit other cartridge cases. The remaining propellant powder that was not fully burned was filled with thick smoke. Throughout the entire interior space of the turret, the turbid air breathed through the mouth and nose was filled with a sour and pungent smell of burning propellant.

Although there is a small fan in the car for ventilation, the effect this thing can have is obviously quite limited.

Kirill, who was closest to the breech and facing the breech of the gun, covered his mouth and nose and fanned his right hand, trying to dispel the irritating and strong smoke that filled the air in front of him.

Kirill, who couldn't remember how many shots this was, was so smoked that he shed tears, and he coughed violently from time to time.

Ever since he was shot in order to pull Marashenko, Kirill, who was lucky enough to save his life but suffered from a disease in his lungs, has been feeling worse day by day, especially during the high-intensity physical labor and launch. Under the influence of drug smoke, it becomes even more difficult to breathe.

In fact, not only Kirill, who had lung problems, but Malashenko and Iushkin, the two big smokers in the turret, were also suffering from the smoke at the moment, with tears streaming down their faces and even mucus coming from their noses. They popped up, and people who didn't know it might have thought that these two people were suffering from the flu when they saw the situation at this moment.

"The target was destroyed, and the No. 4 was shattered into pieces! Damn it, cough cough, it's like shit! The amount of ammunition fired by this 122 gun is seriously over the limit, cough cough!"

While enjoying the 122 heirloom's high penetration, strong positive correction, and massive damage, you must also withstand the negative effects of the 122 gun's firing power which is far greater than the 85 gun. There are few things in the world that can have both cake and eat it. It’s a good thing to have both.

Malashenko, who was feeling uncomfortable from the smoke, ignored Iushkin's complaints. He raised his arm and wiped the runny nose and tears on his face with the dirty and unsightly sleeve of his combat uniform. He wiped it randomly and immediately held his hand again. The commander looked through the periscope and shouted an order to Iushkin.

"Turn the turret! At three o'clock, the car body is heading towards the front! I see a tiger rushing towards us!"

"Ahem, I understand!"

Wiping his tears and nose with one hand, he cranked the handwheel connected to the electric steering gear with the other hand. The engine speed determines the motor output, which is directly related to the final speed of the turret. The huge and flat turret of the IS6 was immediately far away. It turned faster than the German Panther's hand-cranked turret and shook the muzzle to prepare to point at the target.

But at this moment, the second armor-piercing projectile whizzing towards the turret followed closely again.

This time, Malashenko seemed to have lost the blessing of good luck, and a sound of broken metal that was far more terrifying than the usual beatings immediately passed from his ears to his mind.

Ding-ding——

crackling——

"Oh! Damn! We are penetrated, comrade commander! We are penetrated!"

Before Malashenko could say anything, Iushkin, who was so focused that he was suddenly startled, was the first to speak and exclaimed loudly.

Malashenko had no time to pay attention to Iushkin's ghostly howl, and immediately turned his head to look in the direction of the huge impact. This time he could hear it clearly.

I don’t know whether the German’s shells were shoddy or whether he was really lucky. The scene that appeared in front of Malashenko can be described as luck like "winning the lottery."

Directly above Kirill's head, on the other roof of the turret, there was an outline of the convex cover that was about twenty centimeters higher than the dome of the vehicle body. It was already torn to pieces and twisted out of shape by an armor-piercing bullet from the German. The trajectory of the projectile, like a thick python with an arm, almost split the entire convex top cover in half.

Needless to say, it goes without saying that the turret roof can no longer be used by Kirill to abandon the vehicle and escape. Malashenko even suspected that the turret roof was twisted into such a shape that it would be difficult to even open it.

The sunlight in the sky outside the tank shone into the car along with this shocking armor tear. Fortunately, the armor-piercing projectile that was aimed at an awkward position did not explode, nor was it magically reflected into the car. , after leaving this terrifying armor tear wound, he disappeared and went to no one knows where.

There are no particle cannonballs on the earth, let alone smart armor-piercing delayed fuses that can penetrate and explode immediately. This is an ordinary, assembly-line version of an 88mm hooded armor-piercing bullet. It is not blessed by a magician or blessed by any strange power, nothing more.

Fortunately, when the armor-piercing bullet came, Kirill, who was covering his mouth and nose, was bending down to fiddle with the propellant cartridge that had been moved in advance for easy loading, and was preparing to load ammunition again.

If only Kirill had straightened up, puffed out his chest, and put his head close to the roof.

Then what Malashenko saw now should be different. If he was lucky, he might be able to see Kirill's half-cut head and blood-spouting corpse that had been cut off by the shell.

If you are unlucky, Kirill's entire good head will have been turned into paste by now, leaving only the headless corpse with blood spurting wildly from the broken neck.