novelnext Page 25
Page 25
“鬼鸮2号！燕隼3号！你们去攻击2、3号区域的火炮！燕隼2号！跟我上高地！”
"Remember! Keep dispersed! Don't let the speed drop below 240! Whether the vanguard can take less shelling depends on us!"
"understand!"
……
……
Meanwhile, on that hilltop, green and tan figures were bustling about. Soldiers surrounded a group of bright green cannons that had just been dragged out of the position, pushing them into a patch of dark camouflage netting.
"Comrade! The artillery is almost ready!"
"Alright, comrades!" Anton said, checking his SVT-40 rifle. "Enemy planes are coming soon! Get your weapons ready! Keep an eye on what's above you!"
"Lieutenant! There!" He looked in the direction the soldier next to him was pointing, and saw two unfamiliar silver-white planes emerging from behind a clump of carbonized groves, skimming the ground.
"My God..." The lieutenant looked surprised. This was actually the enemy aircraft that the troops at the front line had told them to be careful of!
Without propellers or long, flat wings, in his memory, neither his own country, nor his Western allies across the ocean, nor even the German fascists who had once invaded his homeland could satisfy both of these requirements.
To make matters worse, flying so low made it quite difficult for anti-aircraft guns to fire at the enemy.
Before they could hesitate, with a hiss like linen being cut by a knife, a golden train suddenly burst out from under these strange men, crashing into the trenches and splashing up a large amount of grayish-brown water.
"Lie down!"
……
"OK! Looks like these barbarians are also afraid of things falling from the sky!" The two helicopters roared, and compared to the terror in the trenches, there was a relative sense of ease and excitement in the cockpit.
"Hey! Watch out! There looks like something's up ahead!"
"Scatter! Use the same old method!"
The anti-aircraft ammunition belts and proximity shells that had taken their companions were now swarming around them again. The two planes began to twist and turn like fish, dodging the trees to the left and right, where a large pit filled with sandbags and an anti-aircraft gun standing in the center of the pit came into view.
"bring it on!--"
Then the whistling of bullets rang out again, and the green tubes that had been twisting and turning to look at them fell silent.
"Well done! There are a few more to the north and east! Take them all out at once!"
The helicopter, with its elegant silhouette, weaved through the air past a dark boulder on the hillside, slamming the golden whip chain into yet another unfortunate crater. The number of bullets aimed at them dwindled, as if the entire sky belonged to them.
"Owl No. 2 is in distress! It's us!"
Boom! At this moment, the rhythm of the radio waves stopped abruptly with the sound of an explosion—but it wasn't emitted by the two people in front of them.
"Come on, you scum!" Hommel yelled hysterically in the cockpit. "I swear in the name of Britannia! Today I'll drag you all down with me to the grave!"
……
At this moment, Anton, who had just crawled out of the trench, was filled with nonsense.
Without propellers or wings, it can turn sideways, stop in mid-air, and turn around like the hands of a clock. What kind of war machine is this?
"Lieutenant!" Sheva stumbled and rolled over to his side.
"Are you all okay?"
"We're alright!" Sheva coughed suddenly. "What about those two planes? What do we do now?"
Not hearing the lieutenant's reply, Sheva looked up and saw a long, sturdy gun barrel placed in front of him.
"Go!" Anton shouted, gesturing with his chin, "Come with me and carry this anti-tank rifle over there!"
……
"Homer! The Eurasian Falcon III is also doomed!"
"Keep calm, Vera!"
As the anti-aircraft fire subsided, the two silver-white demons finally returned to the center of the high ground.
"Go and destroy the cannons! I'll help you suppress the infantry in front!"
"OK!--"
Vera twisted the control stick, and the helicopter tilted forward, flying towards the trenches to the west.
"Fire!" The chainsaw roared again from under the nose of the helicopter, pounding heavily into the trench. A deafening explosion followed on the high ground behind them—Hommel must have used the helicopter's ammunition belt to ignite something explosive, creating this huge bonfire.
"No one can escape! You fools who dug your own graves! Hahaha!—"
Just then, an unusual gunshot rang out, startling Vera—because it sounded more like an artillery barrage!
"What's wrong?" Vera felt the helicopter shake violently. When she looked closely, she saw two little brats in yellow military uniforms lying behind a small mound of earth, holding a sniper rifle that looked like it had been stripped of its scope, and firing at them.
Just as she was about to have her partner direct the fire in that direction, a sudden sound of shattering glass startled her, as if the sun had rushed right in front of her, a blinding light that scorched her eyes.
There's no exaggeration here, because she really went blind! Vera felt a piercing pain in her right eye, and she couldn't see anything. Her face was wet and sticky, making it impossible for her to operate the plane properly. Her left eye was also barely open. With the last glimmer of light she could perceive, she could only see a face covered in shards of glass and blood in the small mirror in front of the cockpit.
……
……
"Calling Eagle Falcon 2! What's wrong with you!"
“Eagle…Eagle 1! The helicopter is about to fail! We are losing control!” As he spoke, the egret in front of Hommel was spinning in place and slowly falling.
"No...you brat! You're dead!"
Vera and her crew's plane spun and landed on the trench, splashing up a ring of gray ripples. Anton and Sheva remained lying on the ground, burying their faces in their arms as the waves swept over them.
"Run, Lieutenant! That plane is coming too!"
A rough cry of surprise came from the trench. The two men looked up and saw another bird, like a hungry eagle spotting its prey, swooping down on them, kicking up dust!
"Damn it, let's go!" Anton twisted around and grabbed Sheva's shoulder. The two stumbled to their feet and sprinted towards the trench more than ten meters away. The wind howled in their ears like a broken flute, and the lieutenant could already feel the giant insect crawling onto him!
But suddenly, it felt like the bullet had changed direction, and it sounded like it went to the right. Anton didn't stop running and subconsciously turned his head to look back.
Indeed, the giant insect twisted to the other side, and just as it was thinking this, its foot suddenly lost its footing, and it tumbled and fell heavily to the ground.
Before he could even worry about his aching knee, a glance out of the corner of his eye made him hesitate for a moment.
The silver-white demon was twisting its body, facing the high sky.
And in that blue sky...
……
"Enemy planes are coming!"
Two bright green swallows caught Hommel's eye through the glass of the helicopter cockpit.
"Aaaaaah!" His eyes were bloodshot as he stared intently at the screen, desperately squeezing the sluggish button on the machine gun—a fighter jet with its propellers thumping was charging towards them.
The cockpit windows quickly scattered like ice blocks being smashed by a hoe.
……
This time, it was Anton's turn to shout excitedly from the ground.
Before him, the unfamiliar plane was engulfed in black smoke and flowing sparks, like a burning gasoline drum. Then came the distinctive, crisp sound of Schwaker's machine guns approaching step by step. Two emerald green Yak-9 fighters flew gracefully overhead one after the other. Behind them was the poor thing that had been exploded into a fiery black cloud.
"Yay! Haha!" The soldiers' cheers came from all directions.
"Die! You piece of trash!" Anton Gravel picked up a stone, threw it into the sky, and watched the damned plane crash and disappear into the sky above Berlin.
Beside him, the plane that had been shot down by anti-tank guns lay on the trench not far away. He jumped up, lifted the broken glass canopy, and dragged out the female pilot sitting in front—it seemed her lips moved.
Her dark uniform was now stained even more somber with blood. Her long, yellowish hair was stained with blood, and her face, torn apart by shrapnel, was covered in blood—it was impossible to recognize her, and there was no hope of saving her, for either side in the battle.
Anton sighed, picked up the rifle that had been lying to the side, and fired another shot into the chest that was covered in shards of glass.
……
"Lieutenant?"
Anton suddenly turned around, excitedly raised the rifle in his right hand, and shouted loudly!
"Hurrah!—"
Seeing this, the soldiers also raised their guns high, and suddenly, a mighty roar poured out of the trenches like a flood and surged into the earth.
Ugh!! — Ra!! ———
Section 28, Chapter Sixteen: The Next Move for White Star and Red Star
The flames of war are like a tireless drummer. For the past nearly 30 hours, Berlin has been transformed into a roaring machine tool by its relentless drumming. The sun, having clearly sat in this trembling place for far too long, is eagerly rushing towards the horizon.
The midday sun is hot, and it will remain so in late October. People usually choose to find a quiet place to take a nap and refresh themselves, and the plants also become languid and motionless.
But can you still find lush green leaves and lawns in Berlin, which was ravaged by the World Wars?
Don't look anywhere else, just look at what's in front of you.
This is the Berlin Botanical Garden—a much quieter "attraction" compared to the Brandenburg Gate. During the Second German Empire, flowers and plants from its colonies were transplanted to this 43-hectare area. Logically, the air here should be filled with the fragrance of grass, right?
If you're thinking like that, close your eyes and take a deep breath... but don't do it, I'm afraid you'll choke.
……
Just months ago, that "great leader" from Austria had already thrown this hanging garden, built by his predecessors, along with the entire city, onto the cruel gambling table of war. All that remained were collapsed steel frames, wood, bricks, and rows of charred tree trunks standing on the ground. The birdsong and fragrant flowers had long since vanished; the acrid smell of flames, the bloody stench of wounded soldiers' red welts, and the stench of gasoline from barrels of iron had long since taken over the place.
The flag flying here is no longer the blood-stained Nazi swastika. Instead, it is a blue square covered with white stars and red and white stripes, like a boxer slumped on a small wooden stool, drooping at the top of the flagpole—after the red torrent swept away, this is all that is left for the botanical garden.
……
……
……
The American soldiers stationed there should have been retreating steadily under the heavy firepower that the enemy could not withstand as the sun rose, but now, the loud noises all around were somewhat inexplicable.
At dawn, one or two green Soviet fighter jets flew overhead, circled a few times, and flew back to the east—clearly they were there for reconnaissance.
At seven o'clock, just as some veterans had guessed, the east of the city suddenly turned into a tsunami of cannon fire.
Those familiar with the situation know that this is the sound of Soviet Red Army artillery attacking the city. A significant number of these American soldiers heard the thunderous cannon fire from the distant East in mid-to-late April of this year in Magdeburg, a city more than 4 kilometers west of Berlin on the banks of the Elbe River, as the Soviet Red Army wiped the Nazi German capital off the map.
In those days, the entire land seemed to weep silently for this grand finale that brought an end to the war in Europe…
Equally terrifying than artillery were the Il-2 attack aircraft soaring through the skies. The US military certainly didn't want to experience firsthand how these aircraft treated the Germans and how the Germans had to give them the nickname "Black Death."
Strangely, neither the artillery nor the fighter jets either sent the thunderous roar far into the eastern part of the city center, nor did they simply send their green silhouettes passing over the heads of the American soldiers; not a single bullet landed at their feet.
This is very strange. Could it be that in the vast city of Berlin, besides the soldiers of the United States and the Soviet Union, there is any other armed force worth mentioning?
……
……
……
……
……
Perhaps it was this inexplicable disturbance that disturbed someone taking a nap, because Jonathan sleepily lifted the curtain of a tent.
About five hours ago, he was in the underground of this botanical garden, in a rough, massive bunker—a half-finished project left behind by those madmen who shouted "Long live the Führer" a few months ago, but it still looked usable.
He sat curled up on a bench in the aisle, his Thompson submachine gun lying to the side, his brows furrowed like a mille-feuille.
He turned his head to look at a room on the side, with a white curtain with a red cross hanging above it. This was where he had just talked with someone about Pat's injuries.
……
Is he alright?
"Don't worry, if you survived such a long delay due to a rib fracture, you definitely won't die."
"Can I come in?"
“We are still treating his wounds. Stay here and we will arrange a hospital bed for him when it’s all over.”
……
"Okay, okay, I hope you're right..." Slowly raising his head, Jonathan's face finally emerged from the shadows, his eyes wide open, as if he was about to remember something.