Lao Maozi's artillery has been killed, and Zhang Xianyu has no time to chase the other fleeing guys. Now, their mission is to return to the battlefield and smash Lao Maozi's chrysanthemums.
They had to thank those old guys for preheating the artillery system and even loading the shells. All they had to do was adjust the angle of the gun barrel and press the launch button.
However, there is nothing to adjust. On the other side of the river is the mechanized infantry division of three old men. More than 30,000 people are crowded into a small area. There is no need to aim at all, just shoot directly.
Boom boom boom.
There was a deafening sound, and large-caliber shells roared out from the barrel. The wind and snow were torn apart in an instant, and the night was illuminated by the rising flames.
"No, the artillery position is controlled by the Chinese."
"Damn it, get out of the way."
"Run away quickly."
The distance was really too close, just the distance of a river, and just a breath of time. Those old men who were trying to cross the river clearly saw cannonballs the size of human heads appearing in front of their eyes.
Boom boom.
Blah, blah.
Large pits with hot smoke appeared on the ground, and ice and snow continued to splash. Those panicked old men who were suddenly burst into tears were scared to death, as if their parents were dead, and they fought for their lives.
Dodge on both sides. First round
However, three infantry divisions, nearly 30,000 men, were too many.
Every time there is an explosion, there will always be an unlucky old man who is blown to pieces. Blood and flesh are flying all over the sky. In just one salvo, these old men have lost thousands of people, including pieces of meat, stumps, and colorful internal organs.
, it can be seen everywhere that Lao Maozi, who was lucky enough to escape, has completely lost confidence. The Chinese people on the opposite side even directly pulled the barrels of the guns horizontally. Who can stop them when they are blasted like this?
The rout happened almost instantly.
One by one, the old men were like bereaved dogs, running around desperately. Dropped ammunition, backpacks, and abandoned tanks could be seen everywhere. And on the white snowfield, small black dots were pointing toward them.
Running around.
Under the attack of modern artillery systems, there is no artillery suppression and no trenches to hide. No matter how many infantrymen there are, they will only end up being slaughtered.
Broken.
The Russian army's chrysanthemum was completely blown to pieces by their own artillery shells.
Boo hoo hoo.
Rockets up to seven meters long roared out, dragging their long flame tails across the night sky. They flew over the heads of the fleeing old men and shot out into the distance, in the wind and snow.