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The grouse was still hopping around in the snow, looking for grass seeds and leaves to eat, completely unaware that someone was coming from behind it.
"OK, bitch, didn't your mother teach you not to leave the house while eating?" he said, slowly aiming the dagger at the grouse's body, preparing to throw it.
However, just as he was about to exert force, the bandage wrapped around his leg came loose, and a gust of cold wind made the wound sting.
"Ah!" he yelled and fell into the snowdrift, thinking that he was doomed. The grouse was fast and could fly for a while. The delicious meal he was about to get was going to be lost.
Just as he was lying in the snow listening to the grouse's claws jumping around on the ground and its wings flapping wildly, he heard a gunshot on the path outside the woods. The sergeant was so startled that he jumped up in a flash, ignoring his injuries.
"Who, who fired the shot?!" The sergeant rushed out, limping, and saw that the grouse on the ground had been shot dead.
Looking at the soldiers again, everyone's surprised gazes were fixed on Pat—the young man was holding a Garand, the muzzle of which, emitting wisps of white smoke, was pointed at the spot where the grouse had fallen to the ground.
Jonathan grabbed the grouse's carcass with eyes wide as if he'd seen a ghost, examined the bullet holes, and then looked at Pat's face. The young man's face showed none of the gambler's overjoyed surprise at winning big; instead, it was full of confidence and self-assurance.
"You...were...keeping your eyes on it the whole time?"
"Do you think that's enough, Sergeant? If you can see a few more grouse."
……
After a moment of stunned silence, several American soldiers ran over from the other end of the path. Jonathan quietly handed the grouse to Carl and hid it in his coat.
“Sergeant Campbell, cough.” The leader was a corporal. “Was the gunfire coming from your area?”
"Yes."
"Aren't there any Germans?"
"It was just a minor accident, what's wrong?"
"Ahem... Okay, then, could you please come with me?"
The large group of people ran for a long time before finally stopping in front of a food truck.
"Hey! Major!" The corporal walked up to the truck, crouched down, and called out a few times from under the vehicle, "Come out, it's safe!"
After waiting quietly for a long time, a disheveled officer finally crawled out from under the truck. Before crawling out, he looked around timidly before being helped out by a corporal.
"OK...OK..." The major's heart was pounding really fast. "What's your name? Oh, Sergeant Campbell, I'd like to know, which soldier in your squad fired the shot?"
Pat slowly raised his hand.
"Oh, it's you? Kid, what's wrong, you pretty boy, thinking the load is too heavy and want to slack off by unloading some bullets?"
"I'm sorry, sir, I just..."
“Excuse me, Major,” Jonathan suddenly interjected, “I ordered him to fire the shot.”
"Huh?" Well, all the privates in the class who had been scolded by him before, including Pat, stared at him in astonishment.
"Sir, this kid's gun had a problem before, I fixed it for him, and I just let him try firing it once."
"That's all? How can it be just that? We should let him fire out the entire magazine of bullets, so that the whole forest will be terrified and think that German paratroopers have surrounded us. Don't you think that's how it should be?"
"Well, I'm sorry, sir." The sergeant watched him angrily wiping the mud off his face. "Tell me what punishment you want, but don't drag my men into it. That's all I ask."
"Sergeant?" Pat's eyes widened.
"Oh? Okay. You, leave your unit number here, write a self-criticism and hand it to your captain tomorrow. If it's not profound, rewrite it. If it's full of typos, send it back. If there's even one swear word, you'll have to write two copies. Understand?! As for your men, come here. You're the only one who's going to unload this truckload of canned goods. That's it, dismissed!"
After giving his instructions, Pat was about to get on the truck to unload the cargo when the sergeant stopped him.
"Come see me tonight, I have something to ask of you, 'Intellectual'."
……
That night, in Jonathan's tent, a private and a lamp kept him company, while a sergeant nervously scribbled on the table with one hand holding a pencil and the other.
"OK, let's end it like this: 'Dear Major, I deeply understand how shameful my actions are as an American soldier. To no longer bring shame to the sergeant's insignia on my sleeve, to no longer bring shame to the crimson number 1 of the 1st Infantry Division, and to no longer bring shame to the Stars and Stripes for a soldier like me who made a mistake, I will definitely repent and never...'"
"Wait a minute, how do you write 'repent and turn over a new leaf'..."
“Like this, like this…” The private helped the sergeant write a few words on the table, finally managing to finish this long self-criticism.
"Haha, thanks to you, kid." Jonathan stood up with satisfaction. "I always dread writing self-criticisms. I can't help it, I didn't study much and I don't like to learn. All I can do is fight."
"So, does that mean the commander will need a well-rounded comrade in the squad from now on?"
"Right, right, right! To be honest, the reason I was annoyed with you rookies before was because of this... What's the use of just talking? Can talk kill Germans? You need real weapons and practical skills, that's what makes a soldier. By the way, you seem like an educated person, right?"
"A 1942 student on leave from the Department of Social Sciences at Princeton University, New Jersey."
"Wow, I've struck gold!" The sergeant laughed heartily, hugging the private tightly and patting him a few times. "Do all those experts and professors know how good your marksmanship is?"
"Hmm, too bad I can't work part-time as an armed patrolman on campus before graduation? Haha!"
"Good, very good, kid. Come on, tell me about your time in the 99th Infantry Division. How did you do?"
"I didn't know what war was like before I enlisted, sergeant. But my first close encounter with the Germans was when they burned our Christmas stockings."
"the first time?"
"Yes, in the end, I was the only one left in my platoon who could handle a gun. I did everything I could, I gritted my teeth and was determined to take down every German who approached... But, I'm sorry, Sergeant, I ran out of bullets and still couldn't do it... I ran away, and my comrades all..."
“It’s alright. If they die in battle, we’ll give them a good burial place in the future. If they’re in a prisoner-of-war camp, we’ll take them home and bring back a few SS heads along the way. We’ll make them pay back dozens of times the number of brothers they lost.” Jonathan patted the private’s shoulder a few times.
"Alright, it's getting late. I'm going to hand in my report to Captain Davis. Also, I have something to do with you."
"I?"
"Maybe I'll give you a sniper scope and train you properly, huh?"
……
……
"That's how it is, guys, that's how the sergeant and Pat got along."
Back in the year, Carl laid everything out in detail with these new rookies.
"Oh, so the sergeant wanted to find another sharpshooter after the platoon's sharpshooter died? But that's a bit much, isn't it, corporal?"
"Opportunities aren't for a bunch of idiots to complain about, cough, 'rotten wood can't be carved'." The corporal has actually learned a bit of politeness; why does it sound so cheesy?
Just then, at the height of noon, the eastern land was suddenly engulfed in a deafening roar.
"Oh?" The soldiers squinted and looked over. There were more and more fighter jets in the sky. One by one, green or white figures with red stars painted on their wings began to fly towards Berlin.
"Hahaha!" Karl laughed. "Keep standing guard, guys. The Russians are busy beating up the aliens again. Our trip to Berlin won't be delayed. After we beat them up, we'll go and shit on Hitler's and this damn new guest's graves!"
"yes sir!"
Chapter 185, Section 255: Railway Bloody Railgun
"Hey, well, it seems the general and the others still know we need to rest and are still taking care of us."
As darkness fell, the skies over Berlin were no longer likely to be visited by American and Soviet warplanes, making it much safer for the Britannian flag flying in front of the Reichstag building.
Of course, the soldiers and weapons are the ones who truly feel the benefits of the protection of the night, and now, finally, a big guy can take center stage.
Griffin and Angelie flew their respective planes to an open area on the southern edge of the city. According to orders, their squad was to serve as one of the air patrol forces in Berlin during the first half of the night, and their shift was about to begin. Not only them, but most of the members of the Knights of Agincourt had not yet received any front-line combat missions.
"Oh dear, it's really unfair to Lilycia and the others." Griffin stretched lazily as he got off Vincent. "They were forcibly separated and sent to the western front to fight the British in Sector 45. I wonder how the three of them are doing there. I'm guessing the British planes and artillery aren't as troublesome as the American and Soviet planes, are they?"
"Hey? Why aren't you saying anything, darling?"
"Can someone who talks nonsense without any basis and only seeks pleasure compare to a doer?" Angelie walked with him but didn't even glance at him. "You'd better start by looking at the cannons in front of you and correcting the bad habits you've just developed."
"Up ahead? Oh right, Xixi'an!" The captain seemed not to have heard him, busy greeting Gloucester, who was parked not far ahead, and the girl standing next to his mechanical legs.
"Sigh, this guy is hopeless..." Angelie looked dissatisfied, it was hard to tell whether she was jealous or disappointed.
……
"Captain, Lieutenant, you've come at just the right time."
"Hmm, hey hey hey..." Just as Xixi'an was about to turn her gaze back to what was in front of her, Griffin interrupted her again, "Look at your clothes... why are you wearing casual clothes on the plane?"
"I've always been like this, so what?" Xixi'an shrugged, rolled up the sleeves of her military jacket, and said that she was the same as when they took the photo before, except that she wasn't wearing a hat.
"I guess... you don't like female pilot uniforms, right?"
"Of course, but only from a practical point of view. I don't know what Lieutenant Angelie thinks, but at least in my opinion, these bodysuits often fail to function like the Black Knights' uniforms, where the airbags can inflate and absorb shocks. On the contrary, they cause us a lot of inconvenience when we take off from the cockpit."
"Hehe, don't be shy. I won't laugh at you if you don't dare to wear clothes that revealing."
"I'm serious, Captain. If you don't believe me, just look at the young lady behind you."
Seeing Xixi'an cover her mouth and chuckle, Griffin turned his head curiously. Angelie had a conflicted expression on her face, one hand pulling at the fabric of her bodysuit, and the other hand laboriously reaching behind her back, seemingly touching the zipper.
"Huh?" Seeing the captain looking at her, she immediately covered her face with the hand that was pulling at her clothes, and continued to fiddle with the zipper.
"Uh, looks like the 'airbags' on her chest are too big and have burst open? Hehe, her clothes probably shrunk again." He grinned and looked ahead again. "Hey, this team is really interesting. The shortest girl has the biggest breasts, and the tallest girl has a 'plane' on her chest, hahaha!"
"Ah!" Only after Angelie kicked Griffin to the ground did Xixi'an look into the distance again—if it weren't for the crisp and pleasant sound of the motor, they would have almost forgotten what the purpose of their visit was.
……
Do you remember that "building"? The canvas and steel frame that made it up have now been taken down and laid to the ground. In its place, the massive cannon barrel was recently mounted on its carriage. Slowly, the dark barrel rises towards the southern horizon, the rotating base slightly tilting to adjust its firing position. It's as if this enormous railgun has transformed into a torch, determined to ignite the sky and the earth.
"Hehehe, are you going to open fire? Come on, I'll finally get to see it for myself."
Sitting on the ground, you can watch what happens next—the air is filled with the roar of electricity, and the end of the train cannon's barrel is gradually enveloped by increasingly intense pink light. It's not as dazzling and intense as the rising sun, but it's more exhilarating than the blooming of a summer lotus.
"'Poseidon's Trident' is fully charged! Prepare to fire!"
"emission!"
Like a thunderclap and a meteor shower, the train cannon, under the whistling flash of its muzzle and the immense recoil, suddenly retreated a bit. The shells pierced the night sky and flew into the heavens, leaving only a cloud of smoke and dust on the ground, and the astonished eyes of the people on the ground.
……
"My God, what was that sound just now...?"
In Lebnitz, a small village occupied by the Soviet army, about 100 kilometers southwest of Berlin, a sudden commotion arose from a nearby clap of thunder.
Anton and Sheva were startled by the commotion and jumped off the boxes by the roadside. Moreover, the comrades in the whole village were very surprised—this place was not the front line, but just a small place for supply relay and troop rest. The real fighting with the Britannian army was around the small town more than ten kilometers to the north.
"Stay calm, comrades! Return to your posts. Report any unusual situations to me!"
"Captain Vasilyev!" At that moment, a comrade ran in from outside the village, panting, and reported to the captain.
"What's wrong? Do you know what that commotion was all about?"
"Captain... I was just washing bandages for the medical staff by the lake near the village when suddenly a huge spray of water came up from the lake..."
"Huh? Is that so? There was only one splash?"
"Ummm, right! Could it be that the enemy's extended artillery fire is about to reach this area?"
"Not necessarily. Besides, we haven't heard any artillery fire, and our comrades in the north haven't sent any related news. How big was the splash?"
"It's huge, like a 203mm howitzer hitting... no, judging from the size of that splash, it's at least much more powerful than that howitzer!"
“What? This…” Anton hesitated, “Could it be that the enemy’s plane crashed into the water? The comrades in the air defense forces shouldn’t let this go so easily.”
“I don’t hear any engine sound, comrade. Gliders shouldn’t be that fast or that big. Most importantly, don’t Britannian planes have lights on their wings? Even the KMF does.”
"For safety's sake, let's all take cover." With that, he called to the entire company at the Andong Station intersection, and they took cover in the trenches and foxholes inside and outside the village. "It would be terrible if we really became artillery targets."
"But I think there's some good news, Captain."
"What do you mean?"
"If we hadn't been ordered to step down from our guard company duties some time ago, our regimental commander would probably be in danger today..."
"Heh, you really know how to find something positive, Sheva. Alright, follow me for now, to..."
Just as the two were about to leave, they heard a piercing gust of wind coming from the northern sky!
"Oh no!" Anton shouted excitedly, guided by his wartime instincts. "Artillery fire is coming!"
As soon as the words were spoken, a whooshing sound came from afar and landed on the open ground outside the village. A dazzling flame shot into the air and smashed a gray-and-fire building that looked out of place next to the village.
"My God..." The captain and Sheva lost their balance and fell to the ground, turning to look at the spot where the shell had exploded. It was terrifying. That area outside the village was where the tank crews rested. Reflecting the towering diesel flames, the two men stared wide-eyed in disbelief—a shattered T-34 tank had actually been thrown into the air by that shell?!
With debris and sand flying everywhere, the raging fire engulfed the village's night sky.
……
"Oh my god, what's going on..."
When Anton woke up, he had already been carried into a tent, where Sheva and another comrade were busy bandaging his head.