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Page 44
"Forget about the unimportant stuff!" one of the guys in the back said impatiently. "Look where that machine gun is! Let's take it out!"
"Oh no!"
Suddenly the chainsaw roared again, but it didn't notice anything unusual about the hole in the wall. After sweeping through a volley of bullets, it continued to slaughter the poor souls on the first floor.
"I saw it! But!"
"What's wrong?" A busybody came over to look.
……
The enemies, armed with rifles and submachine guns, were scattered around the building windows, firing indiscriminately. However, the machine gun that made the sound of chainsaws was much more cunning. It didn't fire recklessly at the windows or perched high on the roof, but instead hid behind a breached outer wall in a room further inside.
Apart from the muzzle flash, no light could reach the machine gun. Only the broken wall and sandbag cover appeared and disappeared in the gunfire, providing complete protection for the enemy behind them.
This was indeed a very cunning and wise location. The river was only thirty or forty meters wide, and such close proximity was already very dangerous for a gunfight. Since its invention, the machine gun has always been a key target in combat, whether it was the machine gun positions of the US, USSR, Britain, and Germany during World War II, or the machine guns and armored vehicles that Britannian soldiers encountered swaggering around with their machine guns.
Both sides naturally understood this principle, although the American soldiers might have understood it more thoroughly. So it was only natural to hide the machine gun here for fire suppression, even though there were some blind spots in this corner.
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The machine gun crews were firing with great enthusiasm, but the Britannian soldiers on the other side of the river were not happy about it—they didn't have rocket launchers and could only rely on assault guns or infantry fighting vehicles to tear through the bunkers in one go, but obviously they were not capable of getting into the building.
Two more shells exploded in the street, and the billowing dust obscured most of the soldiers' vision, making it impossible to see the view across the river. However, this also provided some shelter for the men in black.
Behind the building still being bombarded by MG42 machine guns, the black team's two assault guns and one armored vehicle were already hiding there, with only one armored vehicle remaining parked on the original straight road, seemingly waiting for something.
“Captain Lancer!” His radio crackled to life.
"How's the enemy's firepower, Sergeant?"
"There are two buildings on either side of the bridge, each guarded by enemy infantry, with about ten people in each building!"
"Weapons and equipment?"
"Each building has a machine gun, and the other infantrymen are armed with light weapons!"
"Have you spotted any enemy artillery or anti-tank weapons?"
"No! It's spotless!"
"Alright, let's seize the high ground on the building and keep them in check for now!"
Before the orders could be given, two more shells landed on the same path. Without the agile Sunderland, the captain didn't dare send his clumsy assault guns, risking being crippled by shells, to charge forward; it would only cause more trouble.
But sometimes, one must be bold, even if it is clear that this person is not the captain himself.
"Hey, can you hear me, Medal Man?"
"What is this? Is this mockery of the captain?" The reply came from the armored vehicle left on the straight road, and it was the same young man who had complained about the captain's slow pace earlier.
"Now it seems we really need you to save the soldiers! The enemy on the other side of the river doesn't seem to have heavy firepower. Start your infantry fighting vehicle, drive it at full speed across the bridge, and get behind them! If you succeed, I will nominate you for a medal!"
"This is something you asked for yourself, and I don't like to restrict courageous pioneers like you."
"Ha! Thank you so much, I'm going!"
Two shells exploded, and before Captain Lancer could react, a black figure flashed by, and the six-wheeled infantry fighting vehicle rushed into the dust and headed towards the small bridge!
……
Medal Man sat in the driver's seat of the armored vehicle, his hands trembling as he gripped the steering wheel, his foot already pressed to the floor on the accelerator.
"Come on!" the gunner shouted cheerfully, firing the bright ammunition belt. The roar of the crushing cone made a grand entrance amidst the snoring of the engine, like a bull barking fiercely on top of an armored vehicle, looking down on the maggots on the other side of the river who didn't have much time left.
……
Based on past experience, once light infantry spot an armored vehicle, even if they only hear the sound of machine guns, they will definitely run away from the windows in a panic. Even if there are rocket launchers, they will hide elsewhere to avoid the enemy's attack.
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When they were still dozens of meters from the bridgehead, a thunderous sound suddenly came from under the vehicle, and the tank immediately became unresponsive!
"What!--"
The two soldiers inside the vehicle felt as if they had been struck by a deafening bell, their bodies going numb and their vision blurring. A fiery-colored rain cloud erupting from beneath the vehicle had already torn apart the front wheels of the infantry fighting vehicle.
The black vehicle, moving at high speed, flew up and then plummeted down, crashing heavily to the ground, its momentum carrying sparks of gravel as it scraped against the earth.
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The metal box came to a stop a few meters from the bridgehead.
“Oh…no…” Medal Man glanced at the periscope.
……
"Hey! That guy stepped on a landmine!" The American soldiers in the building across the river were overjoyed. "Bazooka ready!"
"We're doing it!"
"Come on! Come on!"
"Loading complete!" The guy at the back patted the guy squatting in front carrying the bugle and then stepped aside.
"Fire!—"
A burst of air shot out of the nozzle, and the rocket drew a not-so-straight line in the air, smashing solidly into the unfortunate armored vehicle, creating a brilliant spark.
"Got it, bro! Got it!"
"Keep the pressure on! Don't let them get close to the bridge!"
……
Back at the black assault gun, Squadron Leader Lancer had just received a message from his men.
"Captain! Infantry fighting vehicle number 106 is disabled!"
"Understood." The captain picked up the walkie-talkie again, his expression seemingly one of expectation. "How are you, son?"
Unbeknownst to the captain, the armored vehicle stranded on the road had already begun to emit wisps of black smoke.
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Just now, the metallic jet of the rocket almost completely engulfed the infantry fighting vehicle's compartment. The upper body of the co-pilot has been completely melted, leaving only his legs and right hand on the control stick, emitting a burnt, bloody smell.
Where is the young man in the driver's seat? His right arm has been reduced to a pile of mangled flesh, his right leg has been stripped of feeling by the flames, and his entire face has been severely burned by the high temperature.
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His walkie-talkie had fallen under the car, and now all he could do was turn his back to the burning engine and quietly await death.
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"Captain! This is Team B!" another sergeant's voice came through the radio. "We're on the third floor, come up and check on us!"
……
Lancer had just run up to the third floor when he was taken aback by what he saw!
……
Above, a large hole had been smashed into the wooden roof, and soldiers were gathered in the center of the room around something that looked like a ball of cotton.
The captain knew exactly what it was: an airbag—specifically, an airbag that inflates from the cockpit after the pilot initiates the cockpit escape procedure to reduce the impact of the violent impact!
And now, on top of it, a girl covered in dust and blood, wearing a pilot's uniform, lies unresponsive.
It appears that while the pilot and airbag were still in the cockpit, the hatch opened unexpectedly, causing this object to fall out.
“Sir, this is hers.” A soldier handed over an identification tag: Sergeant Genia Trier, that was the girl’s name.
"Connect with the medical team and ask them where they are! And you! Come with me to contact the lieutenant colonel!"
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At this moment, on the opposite bank of the river, the MG42 machine gun, which had been quiet for a while, started to make some small noises, like human voices.
A crisp, stone-smelling bell rang out from beneath the machine gunner's body, hidden behind cover. The MG42, an air-cooled machine gun, had a metal plate on its right side when the trigger was pulled forward; pulling it out would cause the barrel to emerge. And if there was a suitable amount of gravity, it would slide out and fall to the ground, making that sound.
The machine gun's bipod was still propped against the broken wall, but the entire gun was now raised high towards the ceiling. From the outside, only the muzzle and half of the barrel were visible, like a lonely gray popsicle stick.
Of course, this wasn't the first time the barrel had been replaced; it had been replaced two or three times before. After all, the high temperature of the barrel caused by a rate of fire of 1200 rounds per minute is easy to damage if not handled properly.
"All done!" The new barrel was inserted, and with a gentle push, the gunner crouched down, leveled the gun, and aimed at the buildings across the river. His assistant quickly loaded a new ammunition belt, and the MG42 machine gun, once again aimed at the opposite bank, began its chainsaw-like roar!
"Did an enemy vehicle step in cow dung?" The second-in-command seemed to have heard the firecrackers from when the infantry fighting vehicle had entered the minefield earlier, and asked a soldier who was firing his rifle nearby.
"Just like we thought! Fire away, brothers! Those bastards have nothing to blow this place apart!"
Meanwhile, in another building, the M1919 machine gun squad had just finished firing the box of ammunition in front of them. The assistant was in charge of loading, and after loading, the gunner raised the gun, aimed, and fired. The two buildings, the two machine guns, and the two roaring bullet belts crossed in the air above the river, weaving a golden spider web.
There is no assault rifle in the world that dares to compete with a machine gun in terms of direct firepower, and no surviving veteran would ever attempt to use an assault rifle to suppress two butchers whose firepower lasts longer than their own. Any fool who did that would have died under the scythe of the machine gun long ago.
Even if the machine gun is reloading, when you try to peek out and fire, the Garand rifles and Thompson submachine guns scattered throughout the building will come after you. Their firepower isn't as rapid, but that's no reason for you to be unprepared.
Meanwhile, 75mm howitzers were still firing at them from a distance, and there were probably unexploded anti-tank mines on the ground. The idea of using an assault gun to push an infantry fighting vehicle across the bridge was simply a pipe dream.
All of this turned the attack plan at the bridgehead into a dead end.
……
Two more shells landed on the road, blocking the street. It was at this moment that the M1919 machine gun's assistant noticed that a tan truck he had never seen before had suddenly appeared in the distance.
Squinting, I could vaguely see a white circle painted on it, with a red cross in the center.
Section 46, Chapter 32: Salvation
The tan truck stopped, and a young man hurriedly opened the door and tumbled out. He was wearing a yellow helmet, a black military uniform with a yellow vest over it, and a round white vest with a red cross on it—typical attire for a medic in the Britannian army.
"Sorry! We're not late, are we?" he said to Captain Lancer and his group.
"Relax, if we had arrived any later, you might have died in your seat." The captain turned to his subordinate. "Sergeant! You're in charge of helping the emergency team carry the injured pilots upstairs, and also checking who else in the squadron needs treatment and getting them into the ambulances."
"No problem, sir," the sergeant called out, and the medics carrying stretchers and equipment rushed into the room.
"Move to the inside! Stay as far away from the windows as possible!" Everyone kept repeating this to the people in yellow vests.
……
The roar of machine guns like chainsaws from across the river was clearly the sound of a band's lead singer spraying sound waves and bullets onto the building where they were, singing for a while and then pausing.
The team scrambled up the stairs in a panic. It has to be said that medics sometimes had it even harder than combat soldiers – soldiers had to carry guns and grenades, while medics had to carry medicine bottles, instruments and stretchers, and the latter actually needed to be more careful.
After climbing for half a day, they finally reached the top floor, where the medics gave the injured female pilot a basic check-up.
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"careful!--"
A terrified scream suddenly came from downstairs, followed by a thunderclap below!
……
Good heavens, the outer wall directly opposite the stairs has been blown open by something, and a soldier is shaking off the dust and huddled under the hole.
"Oh, damn it..." The sergeant who brought them up was startled. "Hey! Ready to go?"
"Your decision, Sergeant!"
"it is good……"
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