"Are you saying those Russians are going to kill us? I mean when they take Berlin, I have almost no doubt that it's going to happen."
Friedman's tone was filled with every negative emotion you can imagine. He had completely despaired of everything he had struggled with so far, just as the Russians were crushing the city of Berlin under the roar of artillery fire.
It is also crushing his soul and will.
".I said, is there something wrong with your brain?"
The wounded prisoner on the side who had just been awakened from his sleep was obviously not angry, but he was also knocked out of sleep by this surprise, and his tone of voice was filled with the smell of gunpowder.
"If the Russians want to kill you, they don't even have to take action. They'll just throw you under that pile of rubble and you'll die on your own, without any sound."
"I don't know why the Russians saved you, kid. In my opinion, you have no value. You are just a rookie responsible for filling the cannon tubes in the turtle shell. I only exchanged the information I know for them to save me."
I need my life, otherwise my blood could kill me."
"And you? You're worthless. I really don't know what's wrong with the Russians to save you. Maybe they want to see how tough your life is? It's really a miracle that you didn't die. I'm serious.
"
Naturally, the old captive would not know that what he said unintentionally was damn right. You can never imagine what strange habits and bad taste an old hunter from Siberia would have in dealing with his prey.
.
Maybe it's just to observe the prey's vitality and subsequent reaction, or it may be for other reasons.
But in short, Fudman, who was almost killed by a gunshot from the 152 Divine Cult in that bunker, did indeed survive, and he was the only one in the entire collapsed ruined bunker.
"Damn it. These stinky Russians took away all my cigarettes. I'm so itchy that I really want to have one to relieve my boredom. Wait, do you have any cigarettes on you?"
The scratching old man prisoner focused his attention on Feldman. The young, weak-looking, one-armed prisoner just shook his head.
"I don't smoke."
"Don't smoke? Have you been recruited for a fucking month? All the rookies I've seen for more than a month smoke. I didn't expect that there is one who can't even smoke."
The old lady's elegant and easy-going manner is comparable to a latrine in a public toilet that hasn't been flushed in three months.
He was either swearing or swearing when he opened and closed his mouth, and he seemed very impatient. Most people would have turned against him or even punched him if he spoke with such an attitude.
But the weak Friedman just sat quietly on the edge of the bed, letting the sweat on his forehead flow down his face. He didn't know what he was thinking, neither angry nor reacting, and just sat there.
"You little brat is as boring as a piece of wood."
He waved his hand impatiently like he was shooing away flies, but after a few seconds of silence, he took the initiative to turn his head again. It was because the bored old man captive could only look for trouble and let the situation in front of him
No matter how boring this idiot is, I can only continue chatting with him.
"What did you dream about just now? How did it scare you like that? It's as if a ghost is strangling you."
The old lady recalled what was wrong just now, and chose to take the initiative to answer her questions, but all she got was a trembling reply from Feldman who slowly raised his head.
"I dreamed about the scene where I almost died, about the Russian shells hitting us, about me being torn to pieces in the explosion, and even the collapsed rubble didn't let me go and hit me again.
Turned into minced meat."
"."
The old lady, who was cursing just now and was full of elegance and easy-going, stopped talking, and even began to become quieter than ever before.
Looking at Fudman's trembling look and listening to those words full of fear, the old lady who is used to seeing all kinds of things in the world probably knows that mental trauma is probably more fatal and difficult to recover than physical loss.
The old lady, who changed her attitude just now, instantly changed her attitude and began to speak quietly in a caring tone like a senior bringing up a junior.
"But that didn't happen. You survived, just like you are now. This is a miracle for you. It turned your body into a legend. Now your spirit should also keep up with this change and become a legend, otherwise
You are just a living corpse with a broken spirit."
"Of course, no one can help you, it all depends on you."
"."
Seeing that the little kid in front of him didn't speak, he was still very scared. The old lady who took the trouble could only continue to speak slowly.
"You should tell me what happened at that time, recall it, and then muster up the courage to speak out. If you never escape, you will never be able to get out. The nightmare will haunt you until you die."
"."
Friedman in front of him still didn't speak, sitting there as motionless as a piece of wood.
Seeing this, the old lady finally got a little angry. She felt like she had just been talking to a dog for a long time. It was time for her to make some movement, bar her teeth or wag her tail. She was motionless and could not react at all.
Nothing is the most annoying thing, it feels like all the words and good intentions just said have been thrown into a big cesspool.
"You bastard, you just want to die like this, right? If you don't look at it."
"I dreamed about a scene that I should have never seen. It was very real, just like the real thing, but it didn't actually happen. I'm pretty sure. The Russian artillery trucks just opened fire almost at the same time as us, and then I
I didn’t know anything and everything went dark. When my memory was blurry, I vaguely remembered that the Russians were continuing."
The old man's eyes lit up after being stirred up. Maybe it was out of his own interest, but maybe he wanted to help. In short, his next words blurted out instantly without thinking.
"How about continuing? You go on."
"Continue to attack! Hurry! Follow up and protect the self-propelled artillery! Follow me!!!"
After solving the biggest troubles in front of them, all the German bunkers and fortifications blocking the road were sent to the sky in a series of shots.
Alsim, who personally led the team to resume the offensive, called on his soldiers to continue moving forward. The three large ISU-152As, traveling together, joined their combat team and fought side by side. Just like Stalin's heavy tanks
Conduct close-in direct fire support, at least until a new request for fire support is sent.
So for Alsim, this has become an obvious matter of seizing the time. The only thing he needs to do is to lead the team forward without even looking at the collapsed ruins at his feet and continue the attack.
Protect these three powerful but vulnerable ISU-152A vehicles from reinforcements in order to solve your own troubles.
However, at this time, Alsim did not expect that when he returned to clean up the battlefield soon, he would find a German under the ruins that even he felt was surprisingly powerful.