Chapter 955 The End of the Storm (4)

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 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 command of the car, 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 Chershenkov, who was just relying on his strong body to hold on for his last breath, could not tolerate what was about to happen.

He didn't want to watch his childhood best friend confess to dying in this hellish place with his already dead self.

"Are you crazy? Varosha! I can't be saved, I know it myself! If you don't want to die, just follow the tank!"

"But you"

"No but! Remember, the Germans have snipers, they should be on the tall building in front of you on the right! Now hurry up! Let's go!"

He grabbed Captain Varosha's collar and swung it back desperately. The familiar face of his best friend disappeared from the field of vision in an instant like a flashing slideshow, leaving behind a fading afterimage that gradually dimmed. Slowly fade away in his consciousness.

"Charge! Continue to charge and destroy Fasis!"

"Follow the tank! Go and operate the machine gun alone!"

"Ula!!!"

The sound of the footsteps of the comrades walking quickly across the earth echoed clearly in the ears, and the steel tracks shook the winter earth and the tremors came from underneath you.

Platoon leader Chershenkov, who had exhausted the last bit of strength in his body, now no longer had the strength to even move his body.

The colorful field of vision is gradually dimming, becoming like a gray-white photo, and the cold body can no longer feel even a trace of warmth.

At the last moment of his life, what was humming in his murmuring mouth was the music that represented victory.

"The defense is impregnable, the city stands firm, and we vow to wipe out the invasion."