Wearing his gloves again, Wei Yan used pliers to carefully unscrew the rusty wire on the gun mantlet, and took out the copper five-pointed star that was only the size of his palm.
The five-pointed star itself has a slight curvature, and there are traces of hammering with hard objects and scratches extending from the center point to the five sharp corners. In addition, there is a hole on one of the corners that just allows the wire to pass through.
Small hole. On the other side of the five-pointed star, there are several vague names engraved on it.
Putting it aside and putting it away, Wei Ran carefully opened the breech. There was still a fired shell shell in the gun chamber, but the shell shell had completely rusted to death with the surrounding gun chamber.
He took out a strong flashlight and looked closely along the muzzle of the gun. After confirming that there were no shells, he was relieved at first, but then he fell into doubt again.
The ZIS3 anti-tank gun uses a vertical wedge breech block with a faster rate of fire. With the assistance of a semi-automatic machine, it can automatically open the latch and extract the empty cartridge during re-entry, so it stands to reason that there should not be one in the barrel at all.
Empty shell casings, since they shouldn’t be there, where did this shell casing come from?
"Is it possible that we still have to rely on this notebook?"
Wei Ran sat down on the artillery hoe, looking at the tattoo on the tiger's mouth of his left hand and hesitated. He hadn't had time to find a place to learn some life-saving techniques. His survival in the Stalingrad battle last time was all due to luck.
Whether I will have such good luck this time, I am afraid only God knows.
But on the other hand, he was eager to know whether the cowhide notebook was really like what he thought. As long as he kept the tattoo, he would not mess around. Secondly, he really couldn't bring weapons there.
He even wanted to know if he was sent back to the battlefield of World War II again and was injured or killed in battle, would he be able to come back, or would he come back with injuries.
"It's done! I don't believe there is a battlefield more cruel than Stalingrad!" After thinking about it, Wei Ran, who was fidgety and aroused by curiosity, slapped his thigh hard and stood up.
Before summoning the cowhide notebook, he first opened the plastic gun box he brought back from Mr. Alexander's gun modification studio, took out the desert-colored pistol and played with it for a while. After making sure that he could use it, he rummaged through the box.
Find two boxes of ammunition, fill three magazines with bullets, and load one of them on the gun.
Taking a deep breath, Wei Ran held the gun in one hand and two magazines in the other. After getting ready, he summoned the cowhide notebook that turned into a tattoo.
Amidst the "clatter" sound of the pages turning, the metal quill slowly floated up, and on the third blank page, a ZIS-3 anti-tank gun was drawn "swish".
"Clang!" With a sound, when the cannon was completely drawn, the quill fell heavily to the floor, and at the same time, two lines of text appeared on the page.
Role identity: Victor, postman of the 64th Army Field Post Office
Conditions for return: Hold position 19 on the Don River and take a photo
The postman? The Don? is about to suffer!
Wei Ran's heart sank, and his vision was already occupied by dazzling white light. When his vision returned to normal, he realized that he was in the sidecar of a Ural motorcycle, and a breeze carrying the smell of water vapor and gunpowder smoke was blowing towards him, making him feel faintly.
You can also smell the unique smell of decomposing corpses.
In the night that was lit up by flares from time to time, the front view was a large stretch of trenches and barbed wire that snaked to the end of the line of sight. Of course, there was also the dust blown up by the shells in the trench line and the continuous sound of gunfire.
Turning his head and looking behind him, he saw a river that was almost parallel to the trenches. You could even see busy cargo ships on the river. Looking down at his empty hands, Wei Ran sighed in disappointment. As expected, there was nothing he could do. Bring any weapons.
What made him even more heartbroken was that one of his return missions this time was to take a photo, but there was no camera hanging around his neck at all. Instead, he had a bulging cross-body canvas bag.
There was a "crunch", and before he could figure out the situation, the sidecar motorcycle under his butt had already stopped at the edge of the trench with a beautiful flick. The soldier driving the motorcycle also took off his goggles and almost pulled it towards him. Shouted, "This is the Don River position of the 64th Army! But I don't know where the field post office is, let alone send you there."
The Don River position of the 64th Army?
Wei Ran was stunned for a moment, then quickly jumped off the sidecar and asked at the top of his voice, "What day is today?"
"What happened on July 22?" The other party subconsciously answered what Wei Ran wanted to know most.
"nothing"
Wei Ran responded loudly, pressed his canvas bag with one hand, and jumped into the trench filled with water. He found a place with less water to hide, groped around on his body, and took out a flashlight. He bit it in his mouth, then gathered the raincoat on his body, and then opened the bulging canvas bag around his waist.
Except for a boxy kraft paper package, the rest of the space is filled with letter papers folded into triangles. These letter papers are also stamped with black postmarks and the words "Inspected by military review agency." of words.
Glancing at the date on the letter, Wei Ran turned off the flashlight and frowned. If the time the motorcycle rider told him was correct, then combined with the year on the letter, today should be July 22, 1942.
Combined with the mission requirements in the cowhide notebook, it means that the big river not far away is the Don River?
Wait! Wei Ran's body trembled. He clearly remembered that the motorcycle rider just now told him that this was the headquarters of the 64th Army?
July 22, 1942, Don River position, 64th Army?
Wei Ran sat down in the muddy trench. It was nothing at this time, but a week later on July 29, the 64th Group Army would be forced to retreat to the other side of the Don River under the German attack!
Are you afraid that the crappy tasks in the leather notebook were not arranged by Professor Alexey?
At a certain moment, Wei Ran even had doubts. No matter whether it was the last Battle of Stalingrad or this time, the time when he "rushed over" was almost a key node that must be recorded in the professional courses he studied!
Shaking his head to dispel the unrealistic speculations in his mind, Wei Ran turned on the flashlight again and looked at the letters folded into triangles in the canvas bag.
These triangular letters without envelopes are almost a Soviet characteristic during the Great Patriotic War. The reason why they did not use envelopes is actually very simple. The Soviet Union, which was busy producing war weapons and equipment at that time, no longer had any spare production capacity. Envelopes are produced.
So whether it is mailed from the front to the rear or from the rear to the front, it is folded into a triangle and then stamped directly on it for delivery. But this is not a bad thing, at least the letter administrators or blue hats want to check the communication
There are no leaks or negative emotions in it, because there is no envelope and it becomes extremely simple and convenient.
But for Wei Ran, who serves as a postman, it is not easy to deliver this package full of letters to each soldier in person. The only thing he can do is to find the field post office in this position and deliver the letters to the soldiers.
Put it in their hands and then distribute it to them.
We have to find a way to get to position 19...
Wei Ran turned off the flashlight again and moved quickly in the muddy trench. From time to time, he caught a soldier asking for the location of the field post office.
After several unnecessary trips, Wei Ran finally arrived at the field post office next to the command post half an hour later.
To his surprise, the person in charge of the post office in this position turned out to be an old man who was missing an arm, and most of the people under him who were responsible for distributing letters were half-grown children.
Before he could finish listening to the one-armed old man's introduction, a soldier had already hurriedly ran along the trench into the underground bunker that served as a field post office, "Uncle Mehri, we need some helpers to transport the artillery shells, No. 14, 18
The ammunition over there at No. 19 and No. 19 is about to run out!"
"How many people?" the one-armed old man asked quickly.
"The more the better!" the soldier said anxiously. "As soon as the German shelling ends, their tanks will definitely rush over. We must send enough artillery shells there before that. If there..."
"Stop talking," Mehri waved his remaining right arm and shouted to a middle-aged woman beside him who was sorting out letters, "Sasha, you take the children to take charge of the nearest position 14. The others are following me.
