Volume 1: The Last Rays of the Empire Chapter 3: War Fires Rage

  "A racing driver may not necessarily be able to drive a T-34, but a good T-34 driver can certainly become an excellent racing driver!"

  This was Lin's teasing in his early years of playing World of Tanks, he never expected that one day he would face such a fierce iron chariot on the real battlefield, and what's more, he didn't sit on the "Tiger" nor did he have a "Leopard" to drive, even the Panzer IV became a luxury. On this terrible battlefield, he was just an infantryman, holding a Mauser rifle, with dozens of 7.92mm caliber pointed bullets in his pocket, and a bayonet in the scabbard on his belt, that's all.

  The fierce battle in front of us is still going on, grenades are pouring down on the T-34 like raindrops, and light and heavy firearms are firing desperately, but except for two "iron fists" and a few bundles of cluster grenades that took effect, the rest were as useless against the Soviet tanks as scratching an itch with a boot. Those big guys painted white crushed through the German army's first trench without mercy, and the second trench just 30 meters away was where Lin En was located!

  In front of the tank, ordinary rifles were no different from firewood. Lin En was at a loss and stuck in his fighting position, neither retreating nor continuing to shoot. At this moment, his mind was blank. In the game, he had thought of N ways to destroy the opponent's tank, but when he found himself in it one day, all those ifs became fleeting clouds!

  Bang...

  The extremely close explosion sounded different from a slightly distant one. The heat wave arrived in an instant, and the small debris made the exposed skin feel stinging pain. In the blink of an eye, a T-34 about 20 meters in front of Lynn's right side turned into a fireball, with the burning flames illuminating a large area, also allowing him to see the real details of a Soviet tank: the proudly protruding barrel, the integrated turret, the wide and thick body, as well as the mudguard, tracks, and steel wheels.

  A murder weapon, the crudeness or fineness of its craftsmanship is unimportant, what matters is that it's solid enough; how well it's manipulated is irrelevant, as long as it runs fast enough, turns quickly enough and goes far enough, that's enough!

  As the enemy in front of him was taken out, Lin En's heart had not yet ignited a spark of joy, only to see another T-34 rushing up under the rapid rotation of its tracks. The majestic momentum made people on the opposing side of the battlefield feel fearful, and when the machine gun muzzle on the front of the vehicle sprayed out orange flames, the unlucky guy who didn't want to die like this finally ducked back into the trenches in the first moment, his heart already choosing to give up: being captured was better than dying, the battlefield really wasn't a place ordinary people could endure!

  In the deafening roar, the first Soviet tank rolled over this trench from less than 10 meters away. Linen weakly leaned against the trench, looking sideways at those who were also shrinking in the bottom of the trench. Not far away, a guy was holding his head with both hands, and he looked even more timid than himself. Some people didn't move, it's unknown whether they were killed or chose to give up like himself.

  Just then, someone darted past Lynn's face at a speed that was like a gust of wind. Lynn took a closer look and wasn't it "Butcher"?

  The butcher had no time to scold his subordinates, he lowered his head, arched his back, held a submachine gun in his left hand and tightly grasped a burning bottle of liquor in his right hand. When another Soviet tank rolled over the trench again, he suddenly slowed down his pace, straightened up at the same time, and paused for a moment as if weighing the best opportunity. In an instant, he exerted himself to throw the bottle towards the rear of the Soviet tank. After completing this action, his body slightly arched downwards, his two eyes staring fixedly at that tank.

  Lynn, who was less than 5 meters away, seemed to be watching a 3D blockbuster in the cinema throughout the whole process, clear and vivid. Two or three seconds later, a fireball burst out from the rear of the Soviet tank that was about to leave his line of sight. Compared to the explosion caused by the shell hit, this fireball was much milder, and Lynn, who was keen on studying historical battles and enjoyed watching WWII blockbusters, knew that attacking the rear engine exhaust port of a tank with a Molotov cocktail was a relatively effective infantry anti-tank tactic, which could cause the tank to stall if successful. However, the probability of causing a diesel-powered Soviet tank to explode was usually not high.

  After attacking a T-34, "Butcher" did not intend to stop. He quickly ran north along the trench for a while, picked up a package from beside a corpse wearing a large-eared steel helmet with one hand, and then crouched at the edge of the trench to look out. A moment later, like a black cat staring at a mouse, he crawled out with extremely swift and agile movements.

  Lin En hastily turned sideways and twisted his head, but he could no longer see the figure of "Butcher". Although he had been kicked by this guy five or six times before, after all, they were comrades in the same trench, and now his heart was uneasy.

  The intense gunfire and explosions outside the trench continued, with flashes of light that could have been from hand grenades, artillery shells or incendiary bombs. After what felt like two minutes, a deafening explosion shook the air in front of the trench, causing Lin's eardrums to ache. A moment later, someone tumbled into the trench on all fours, and Lin saw that it was none other than "The Butcher" himself!

  Looking at the "butcher" who was panting on the ground, Lin En could imagine this guy's brave actions just now. Apart from admiration and gratitude, he was also very curious about what was in this guy's mind: rough treatment of subordinates, cruel killing of opponents, and timely standing up. Was this really the realistic portrayal of the German army's combat spirit?

  Just as Lin was filled with doubts, "Butcher" quickly got up, patted the dirt off, turned around, and fiercely glared at his subordinates who were either squatting or sitting at the bottom of the trench. He angrily waved his right hand and roared:

  "Fürth-K?tz!"

  When the order to fight was heard, Lin En instinctively grabbed his gun and stood up on the firing step without hesitation. In his line of sight, there were twenty or thirty Soviet tanks that had forcibly crossed the first trench, but the massacre of infantry by tanks did not occur at this time. Molotov cocktails flew out from the trenches or other corners one after another, with several tanks already engulfed in flames, running wildly like a mad cow with its tail on fire; some fires were not very large, and the machine guns on the tanks were screaming loudly, while soldiers wearing steel helmets with earflaps were rushing up from the sides.

  Along with the tank's offensive, the Soviet infantry also rushed to the first trench. Seeing the soldiers wearing Soviet 1940-style steel helmets coming in endlessly, Lin En was like being possessed by a demon, completely unaffected by the flying bullets and shrapnel around him. His shoulder was as firm as a rock against the gun stock, quickly pulling the bolt, firing, pulling the bolt, firing... The figures tens of meters away fell backward one after another. After five shots were fired, he slightly crouched down and quickly reloaded, repeating this process, firing five shots, then another five...

  It wasn't until much later that Lin En was like waking up from a dream, he was shocked to find that he had fired all the bullets he could find by his side, but couldn't remember how many enemies he had hit. Looking around, most of the Soviet tanks that had charged into the position had become scrap metal, some were severely deformed, apparently blown up by anti-tank guns or rocket launchers; some hatches were wide open, with several corpses scattered on the body and beside the vehicle in strange poses; others had turned into blazing bonfires, illuminating the muddy ground and residual snow.

  As his line of sight moved forward, the scene was even more shocking to Lin En: The first trench was filled with corpses, and before the Soviet tanks entered the position, there were only large and small shell craters and mud pollution! In the firelight, he could vaguely identify that most of these corpses wore Soviet steel helmets, brown uniforms or white cloaks, and estimated that they had been killed by machine gun sweeps. As for the fierce hand-to-hand combat, most of the brave warriors were already silent in the first trench!

  In the situation where both sides have already suffered heavy casualties, the Soviet army's offensive continued. On the slope in front of the first trench, twenty or thirty Soviet tanks were still rumbling forward. Their bodies were huge and clumsy under the illumination bombs, with large recoil devices installed on the long gun barrels at the front. The shells and bullets hitting the front could hardly stop their pace, and each angry shot from the cannons produced a deafening roar. Under the cover of these tanks, thousands of soldiers wearing the Soviet army's characteristic 1940-style steel helmets, wrapped in light-colored cloaks, holding rifles and PPShs, charged forward with "Ura".

  This is what they call advancing wave upon wave, and regarding death as going home!

  Two hundred meters or three hundred meters, Lin En couldn't tell the difference. The rifle's sight was still stuck at 500 meters. He took out a few bullets that had been left over from several battles, loaded them into the magazine, pulled the trigger, cocked the gun, repositioned it, and pulled the trigger again, repeating this action continuously, pouring all his fear, dread, and confusion into each bullet, firing them forward...