As Hartman walked through the trenches, the rats twitched at his feet, their rabbit-like feet hanging on the ground, and the dusty fur was full of lice.

A soldier screamed in his throat, shooting at the rest he had dug under the fortifications in full automatic mode of the laser gun - it seemed that the big rats had scared him, and it might have been his nightmare that scared him.

The company commander in charge of the position soon arrived and took the rifle from the swearing soldier, then punched the soldier's chin, and suddenly a sound of bone breaking came, and the man fell in the ditch and moaned.

Hartman had no divine expression on his face, but he just whispered as he passed by the company commander:

"He was crushed, give him some fun."

Since the beginning of the siege, Hartman has seen many soldiers break down and even go crazy in cruel battles. After all, there are very few real professional soldiers, and most of them are temporarily symptomatic, neither training nor preparation.

Faced with this situation, the officers did not have a good idea. In order not to spread panic, the most common method was to directly execute soldiers with mental breakdowns.

The standards of each group are different.

In Hartman's heart, he could forgive him as long as he didn't attack his own people with weapons.

But this man had just opened fire at his comrades.

Hartman couldn't keep him anyway.

"yes--"

The company commander hesitated for only two seconds, then pulled out his pistol and shot the fallen soldier in the head, completely ending his pain and nightmare.

"Don't let those mice go, they'll be meat if they wash them."

He casually patted the company commander with a confused look on his face.

Hartman turned and returned to his nest. He didn't dare to sleep in his room at night. He was afraid that as soon as he came out, he found that the soldiers were collapsed, so Green Skin rushed up.

Therefore, he always slept in the trench at night - in fact, he was half awake and half asleep to deal with emergency situations at any time.

So during the day, he needs to take two hours of sleep.

Hartman walked to the door of the command post in the third traffic trench, which was covered with polyester fiber protective layer and anti-toxic gas curtains. Then he opened the heavy door, flipped through the curtains, and walked into the deep tunnel.

The officer's air defense trench was built in a relatively deep position. The light inside was provided by sodium-burning lamps. The light was very cold and white like frost. The floor was paved with intact mud-proof boards. There were even some symbols of civilized society - bookshelf, books, icons, and clothes racks.

Of course, these are all picked up on the battlefield.

As he walked into the command tunnel, Hartman first noticed Ellie Sitty, a 16-year-old boy.

He has a casual personality and a simple mind. Because he is very good at shooting, others call him a "blind boy". However, Hartman knew that he had worked in a small radio station, so he made the other party his messenger and correspondent.

This was his only entourage. He was short of people and almost everyone who could go to the trench had gone up. His regiment had basically no civilian or logistics personnel.

In fact, Hartman doesn't like to stay by the child. The other party's age and his bright eyes remind him of his lost hometown, but it may be this reason that he left the other party by his side, and he couldn't explain it clearly.

"Stop standing, sit."

Hartman sat at his little camping table, Eli hesitated for a moment, and then sat down to the position the commander asked to sit.

"You look as hungry as I think."

It was as if it was planned, and the chef brought two dishes of food - fried egg whites and rat meat, and a large piece of roasted hard starch.

While Hartman was already feasting, Ellie was still staring at the plate.

"Eat quickly, don't you have the chance to eat the food rationed by the officer every day."

Ellie nervously picked up his fork and ate it. It was the best meal he had ever had in the past few months, which reminded him of the days he was an apprentice engineer at the radio station.

Not long after eating, he started to eat it.

Hartman smiled and admired it. When the meal was over, it was time to talk about the serious matters.

"So what did the military news say this morning?"

"I don't know, sir."

Ellie said, taking out the Gazette package and putting it on the table.

"I just brought it here, and I never ask what it is."

Hartman paused for a while, took a big sip of steaming purified water, and reached for the package.

As Hartman unsealed the plastic package and took out the printed documents, the boy's thoughts wandered.

"I've been waiting for that thing to inform me all night."

Then he pointed to a tactical communication machine with green light built in the muddy wall.

"But it told me nothing."

Hartman glanced at the news that he had taken out of the package.

"Tsk tsk tsk tsk tsk, all bad news, the last power station cannot be defended, and several colonels have been killed. Reinforcements still send messages of "coming soon". Our navy is still having banquets on orbit. They have claimed to use orbital bombing to kill the green warlords more than thirty times... What about the Space Marines? Why are there no news about them? They are not on vacation too, are they? When will Amydodon become a resort?"

After Eli finished his meal, he felt warm and comfortable. Although the commander seemed to be talking about something bad, he was not worried at all.

"Sir."

Hartman looked up.

"What's up?"

"I think, well...I think the time for the enemy to attack is coming."

"How do you know..."

Ellie was about to answer the conversation, but the first wave of shells roared.

boom----------!

Hartman almost jumped up and overturned the table. His sudden movement instead of the whistle of the shells made Ellie jump in shock.

The commander of the 9th Infantry Regiment of Amyddoton groped for his pistol, then hung a pistol holster at his waist in an orderly manner, and then he grabbed the speaker on the communicator under a pile of books.

"All units are careful! Arm, get armed! Get ready to welcome the enemy!"

He had expected Greenskin to attack at night, but he did not expect Greenskin to choose when they were most relaxed to launch a raid.

These beasts have also grown up!

Just as the shells hit the trench, Hartman rushed out of the anti-drug curtain of the command post, and a large swath of dust fell from the top of the trench behind him, and the narrow passage was filled with the roars of soldiers.

Suddenly, a shell roared and hit the back wall of a trench lower than Hartmann's location, exploded a hole that could accommodate a motorcycle, and lifted two panicked soldiers away.

In an instant, Hartman's body was covered in mud and water. He grabbed his commanding sword and slowly climbed towards the fire position at the top of the trench.

There was chaos and panic in the trenches, and soldiers scattered in all directions ran towards their positions, screaming and roaring one after another.
Chapter completed!