Chapter Twenty-Three Can Still Be Friends

  The temporary base of the 17th Travel looked more like a standard Australian ranch, and it's true that Australians are best at building this kind of wooden fence. At the entrance of the military camp, there were movable intercept barriers, and a squad of soldiers guarded them. In Australia, it is impossible for anyone to sneak into a regular army base, let alone Aboriginal people? They are just a group of talking monkeys, and among them, there has never been a ****-style talent born, and this world is not yet the era of car bombs and human bombs exploding everywhere. Otherwise, the squad leader of the guard at the entrance of the military camp would not be so comfortable taking a nap in the sentry box.

  Of course, if he could foresee what was about to happen, he would also take a closer look at the blue sky, red earth and green leaves. The Type 59 medium tank appeared in front of the Australian sentries with the tremors of the earth.

  "Oh dear God, what is that?"

  "Cannons! Enemy attack! Those mobile cannons are coming for us! Oh God, quick, wake up the sergeant, report to headquarters..."

  The reply was the angry roar of the opposing tank's cannon, a high-explosive shell turned those obstacles into splinters, and also sent the guard tower flying into the air with its remaining snores. Without stopping, the tank continued to advance, and the commander of the 111th tank, who was also the company commander, patted the gunner on the shoulder, "Good job, kid, don't mind those little bastards, keep aiming at those barracks, blast them."

  The Australian army's reaction was unexpectedly slow, and there were no anti-tank trenches in the camp that the armored soldiers were worried about. Most of the 17th Brigade soldiers were concentrated in various dining halls eating breakfast, milk, bread, and eggs. The Australian military rations made the Red Guardsmen very envious, but adding a few large-caliber shells to the mix would make the dinner table not so harmonious. The Australian soldiers who were directly hit and had no remains were considered lucky because they didn't have to face the fear of the tank tracks rolling over them. The temporary barracks were mostly made of wood, and even thin concrete walls couldn't withstand the 30-odd tons of the Type 59 tank. Tank driver Liao Lisheng was pushing obstacles in front of the tank like a bulldozer while laughing and saying, "Company Commander, I heard that Australians are good at playing football. Do you think this counts as a foul?"

  "The dog is at fault, this is a reasonable collision."

  "Haha……" A burst of laughter echoed inside the tank, although it was almost inaudible amidst the roar of dozens of tanks in the military camp. But this represented the mood of most Red Alert soldiers - this battle was too easy.

  When encountering people, machine guns sweep; when encountering walls, cannons blast down. Wheeled war vehicles follow behind to check for omissions and make up for deficiencies. However, the infantrymen following at the very back have a big complaint - they're left with nothing but smoke. Not even one living enemy is in sight, so can't we all just happily play together?

  No one went to the cafeteria with a weapon, and most Australian soldiers fled empty-handed. The poor devils in front of the barracks were unprepared, while those behind heard the sound of gunfire and didn't even have time to swallow their eggs before running out. The fleeing troops grew larger and more chaotic, like a flock of sheep encountering wolves, frantically sprinting for their lives. A few officers drew their pistols, desperately trying to stop the rout, but it was no use. That terrifying iron monster could crush many people just by rolling over them, even without firing its cannons or guns. Who wouldn't run after seeing such carnage? Those who didn't were fools. The officers, unable to control the situation, eventually joined the fleeing troops themselves. This is what they mean by "an army collapsing like a mountain," I suppose. At this point, anyone who dared block the path of the retreating soldiers would become their enemy. As for the tanks behind them, they weren't enemies - they were devils incarnate. Many Australian soldiers ran wildly while crossing themselves on their chests, crying out, "Oh God, have You abandoned Australia? Has Australia become a paradise for demons?"

  The defeated soldiers finally saw hope. On the other side of the camp, the artillerymen directly under the division had built a temporary position, and their division commander, Lieutenant General Hans, and another colonel were gathering the fleeing soldiers behind the artillery position. Several officers were organizing the soldiers to join the temporarily formed teams. However, there were too many defeated soldiers, and the hastily constructed temporary position was instantly chaotic. Hans drew his pistol and fired into the air, stunning the scene, then ordered the guards to pull the scattered soldiers away from the artillery's line of fire. There was no time to deal with these idiots who didn't even have weapons, as the enemy's dark green uniforms were already clearly visible.

  Hans couldn't understand how a powerful armored force like this could suddenly appear in the barren land of Western Australia. But he knew that the entire 17th Brigade had only these 3.7-inch mountain guns to resist armor, although they were produced in 1915 and were nearly twenty years old.

  "Report to the commander, all parameters of the artillery firing have been calibrated, awaiting instructions."

  Hans glanced at his artillery battalion commander, and adjusted the various parameters. The enemy was already in sight, "Adjust the cannons to a flat shooting angle, aim at the opponent's tank, and blast it for me!"

  Objectively speaking, Hans, who was able to rise to the rank of lieutenant general earlier than the noble Hebal, is quite extraordinary. During his time at Sandhurst Royal Military Academy, he was hailed as the "Hope Star on the Sheep's Back". After graduation, he was even invited to stay in the British Army. However, under current circumstances, without anti-tank equipment, the Australian army had no good solution other than direct fire from artillery. The tactic used by the Chinese army during World War II, where they used bundles of hand grenades to blast enemy tanks, is not feasible here. Before they could even get close to the tank, they were blown up along with the infantry fighting vehicles and explosives following behind the tank.

  A dozen or so 3.7-inch mountain guns fired in succession, with three rounds hitting the speeding Type 59 tank, and there was a cheer on the Australian position, but the cheers only lasted for a few seconds. Two of the three hit tanks just paused slightly and continued to advance, firing back angrily. The one that stopped was because the driver was stunned. This kind of artillery, which had once shone in World War I, could not cause any damage to the frontal armor of the Type 59 tank.

  Seeing the cannonball-covered terrain turn into a sea of flames, Hans clenched his fists, yet was helpless. "Old friend, I'm sorry... didn't think you'd come to visit me and end up accompanying me..."

  Hebal's face turned red, "Hans, don't lose heart, you still have so many soldiers, organize a line of defense, and you can hold on for a while."

  "It's no use, Baron." The general's face was a picture of bitter smile. "Our weapons can't harm the enemy tanks, continuing to fight will only make our soldiers bleed more. And I cannot leave my troops, Baron, you are a noble, you can't be captured, you can take my car and try your luck. I reckon it's no use, such an army, their commander would not have failed to block the roads in advance, I regret that we got drunk last night, otherwise..."

  The Baron's face turned even redder, damn it, what are you running for? The ones blocking the road are all my cavalry. Ah, I just feel a bit sorry for old friends, Hans is a true soldier, and I hope we can still be friends after he knows the truth.

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