"Scott! Scott! Hey, look here, put your gun away!!!"
Scott, who deeply felt that his MP40 submachine gun could no longer meet the needs of the battle, was currently holding an MG42 machine gun pulled from the corpse of the Wehrmacht defender and firing wildly. The deputy shooter responsible for feeding him had already
I was so busy that I fired three gun barrels in just a short time. If I hadn't stocked up on supplies with my back, I wouldn't even have enough ammunition.
Scott, who hugged the machine gun and fired wildly to suppress the Wehrmacht infantry, almost entered a state of selfless madness. He didn't notice that his driver's adjutant was shouting his name beside him, until the other party shouted several times and found that there was no movement.
After reaching forward and patting his shoulder, he finally caught Scott's attention.
"What are you doing!? If you have anything to say, please tell me. I'm busy here!"
"...."
The adjutant who was yelled at when he came up really wanted to say that you are the commander, not a machine gunner, but due to the current situation and time constraints, he could not care about these details, and immediately turned to Scott without thinking.
He spoke.
"Reinforcements! Our reinforcements have arrived! The troops sent by General Herbert to pick us up have arrived!"
"What!? Reinforcements? Finally here! Where are they now!?"
call out--
"careful!"
boom--
"asshole!"
The shells that exploded not far away from him almost made Scott feel that his ears were about to be shaken. The large pieces of debris raised up fell to the ground like rain, and those who fell from the sky hit him.
Although it doesn't feel very painful, it definitely can't be called comfortable.
"This bunch of rubbish from the Wehrmacht! They had mortars in hand to deal with the Russians, but they used them to bombard us!"
Scott, who was yelling and complaining, was about to stand up, but suddenly he felt something very heavy pressing on his body, which made him almost unable to stand up, not to mention it was extremely difficult to breathe.
"Don't press on me. Get out of there if you're still alive!"
The heavy weight and rough shape felt like a person was pressing down on him. Scott, who estimated that the person holding him down should be the deputy shooter, shouted orders, but the guy behind him still didn't move at all.
"Stop shouting! The man is already dead, I'll push him away for you!"
Scott, who was about to continue speaking, had not had time to say anything more. After seeing the situation clearly, the adjutant on the side immediately spoke to remind him and began to take action at the same time.
The heavy body was pushed away from Scott, and Scott, who was struggling to get up from the ground, saw it.
It turned out that the deputy shooter who had been pressing behind him had half of his head cut off by shell fragments, and the upper part of his head had been completely opened. The death was more miserable than that of the future US President Kennedy who was happy to die.
And, of course, Scott had no idea who Kennedy was.
"No time to worry about this. What did you just say? Where are the reinforcements?"
Scott, who was already very busy and had to personally participate in the battle and command the battle at the same time, had no time to care about the life and death of one or two soldiers at the moment. He had more important things to do and more important situations that he needed to figure out quickly.
.
"Tanks, a lot of tanks! General Herbert sent the armored troops of the Skeleton Division to meet us. They are attacking the Wehrmacht! The armored commander leading the team asked us to take advantage of this opportunity to get oil and withdraw quickly.
They can't support us for too long, and if we don't live up to our expectations, they will have no choice but to abandon us and go away."
"...It sounds like they can fight out without the oil. They don't have to rely on us."
Scott, who was disapproving, was already in an extremely unhappy mood. He naturally had to complain when someone said something unpleasant to him.
But complaints are complaints, and it is very clear to Scott what he should do now.
"Take the people and evacuate! Let the oil trucks go first, and then move all the valuable materials that can be taken away to our cars. Those that can't be taken away will be blown up on the spot. Don't leave any garbage for these National Defense Forces.
!Leaving them to the end will only give those Russians an advantage. These cowards will definitely surrender, so go!"
Originally, at the beginning, Scott only planned to take away the oil that was the most valuable to him and the primary target of his mission. He did not even consider the other junk in the jars and jars.
But now, Scott was really annoyed by this group of defense forces who were pestering him and refusing to let him go.
This bunch of bastards had never been so desperate when dealing with the Russians. They simply did not work hard, but when dealing with their own people, reinforcements kept coming and killed them in groups. The difference between the two was extremely obvious.
Since your Wehrmacht can do the first grade of junior high school, our SS can do the fifteenth grade.
The extremely annoyed Scott suddenly changed his mind. Not only did he have to take away the oil that was the primary target, but now he also had to take away all the valuable and portable food and medicine! Some of the scarcer ammunition and supplies could also be moved away, anyway.
There were several idle trucks in his fleet, and the extra ones that couldn't be taken away were directly blown up on the spot, determined not to leave anything for these stubborn National Defense Forces.
"Are you deaf!? Go quickly! Execute the order!"
"......yes!"
Watching the hesitant adjutant leave quickly, Scott, who had made up his mind to stay and command the troops as well as the rear, had already given his mission the highest priority. No matter what, he had to first consider how to complete the mission.
, it is your primary mission to safely send those critical oil supplies back, and it doesn’t matter if you evacuate in the final wave.
The situation on the battlefield where artillery fire was still flying was just as the adjutant said. The SS armored units that rushed to provide emergency support had just arrived and joined the battlefield, which immediately reversed the battlefield situation that was originally more favorable to the Wehrmacht.
Leading the charge at the front is the most elite medium tank in the hands of the Viking division: Panther 2. These armors are so strong that even 122 heirlooms cannot penetrate them. The reinforced Panther on its head shines with combat power. The coaxial machine gun and main gun are in
Continuously fire output, attacking the Wehrmacht infantry exposed within sight, with fierce firepower.
Facing the sudden attack of the SS armored troops, the infantrymen of the Wehrmacht, who had only individual light weapons to rely on, were helpless for a while and were beaten in a panic.
Most of the only iron fists have not been distributed to the combat troops, but are locked in weapon boxes and placed in material storage points for later use.
Now that the supply storage point has been occupied by the SS, the Wehrmacht infantrymen, who have neither anti-tank guns nor iron fists to use, are about to collapse. This storm of ferocious and heavy firepower is not flesh and blood infantry at all.
What it can bear is that Black Panther 2, which was originally used to deal with the Russians, has now become a life harvester for the Wehrmacht, and its efficiency is extremely high.