"If the people above start talking, we cannon fodder will lose our legs!" The commander, who stuffed the last bite of bread into his mouth and leaned against the tank, sighed helplessly.
They have been fighting fiercely for more than three hours. Just now, they have destroyed the 13th Destroyer tank, becoming the crew that destroyed the most enemy tanks in the entire battalion.
It's a pity that their excellent performance did not help their own troops achieve suppression on the battlefield - they fought all the way to their current position, annihilating countless enemies, but still saw no hope of victory.
It was really frustrating and hopeless. No matter how many enemies they destroyed, it seemed that the enemy would always be able to replace them and continue fighting fiercely without giving an inch.
Their battalion has a total of three tank companies, each company has three tank platoons, and each platoon has 5 tanks. Counting the command tank at the battalion headquarters, there are a total of 47 tanks.
The battle has reached this point, and their battalion now only has 21 tanks that can fight, not even half of its number.
A few minutes ago, they added tanks from the 1st Battalion and merged with the 1st Battalion to form a new battle group. Now they have a total of 42 tanks - less than the number of tanks in the original battalion.
The news above is that after dawn, they will wait for the additional tanks and crew members sent by the logistics force-each battalion will supplement 3 tanks, and then resume independent combat formation and continue to perform tasks.
But looking at the current situation, no one thinks they can sustain it until dawn, waiting for the illusory reinforcements of three tanks...
"Hurry up and take a rest... In fifteen minutes, we will continue to move forward." The gunner walked back from the grass on the side. He had just gone to "release water".
Using the short rest time on the battlefield to restore physical strength is a battle experience summed up by all surviving veterans. Being able to close your eyes and sleep for a while anytime and anywhere is a necessary skill that every soldier on the battlefield should master as soon as possible.
"How long do you think I can sleep if I close my eyes now? Two minutes?" The conductor casually threw the wrapping paper beside him and shrugged.
There is an eye-catching QR code on his forehead, which is his production number. You can query his genetic sequence, you can also directly query the production factory, learn combat experience, etc.
Every clone has such a mark, on the one hand it is convenient for management, and on the other hand it is to distinguish them from natural people.
The gunner also had a QR code on his forehead. He sat down on the armored steel plate of the tank and looked at his feet hanging outside the skirt of the tank's armored plate: "Have you seen the obituary?"
"I see. Colonel Rick is a good commander." The commander sniffed, stood up, and slapped his butt twice.
"Such a high-ranking officer was killed in battle inexplicably..." the gunner sighed with emotion, looking at the tracer bullets fired by the anti-aircraft guns that kept firing in the distance.
Further away, the twisting and rising trajectory of the anti-aircraft missile has not completely dissipated, and the firelight of those explosions illuminated the distant horizon.
Not only here, but also in places farther away, battles were going on. This was the second night the enemy had arrived, and the sound of gunfire never stopped.
"What's so strange about this? Before Suman's tank exploded, he was still talking to us." The commander jumped on his tank, climbed up to the turret, and looked at the rickety plug-in reaction outside the turret.
Armor, said to the gunner beside him.
The location he was inspecting was where the tank had been hit by enemy energy shells during the previous battle. The tank had been saved by explosive reactive armor, which exploded to offset much of the jet created by the energy blast.
Therefore, the main armor was not penetrated, but some dark scorched marks were left. Around this circular mark, some of the twisted explosive reactive armor boxes were left on the hooks on which they were hung.
"Go back here and repair it properly. Don't be unlucky enough to get hit again." He muttered, and then got into the hatch of the tank.
"Huh...huh..." At this moment, a whistling sound passed over his head, and a new round of artillery bombardment by the Eilanhir Empire began.
This is another reason why he didn't take the time to rest just now. Before every attack, the Ailanshir Empire would conduct an unprecedented round of artillery preparations.
With howling shells and earth-shaking explosions, not everyone can sleep peacefully in such an environment.
A new battle began with the roaring explosion of artillery shells. The armored troops of the Eilanshir Empire continued to advance, and the Watcher's troops continued to block it.
On the dark battlefield, tank troops from both sides collided again, and there were scenes of shells flying everywhere.
At 2 a.m. in the middle of the night, the armored troops of the Airanshir Empire finally penetrated the Watchers' defense line.
The battlefield is littered with the wreckage of crippled Destroyer tanks and smoking Elanshir Empire electromagnetic tanks.
Some clone grenadiers were simply cleaning the battlefield. A sweeper who had all his arms and two legs cut off and was made into a "human stick" was struggling with the special lock that fixed him.
This was a wounded sweeper. The grenadiers captured him when they were cleaning the battlefield. Because he might need to be studied, the grenadiers planned to transport him to the rear as soon as possible.
On a dirt road full of craters, a small tree that had been broken by shells was pressed against the remains of an electromagnetic tank with a shattered and twisted turret.
A man whose face was covered in blood suddenly opened his eyes. He struggled to sit up, and the pain from the wound made his entire expression distorted.
After taking a breath of cold air, he adjusted his breathing, and then managed to vaguely see the surrounding environment through the starlight.
The circuit boards had been deformed and damaged, and the monitor had fallen off and was hanging in the air by wires. He reached out and groped around in the familiar environment, and finally removed a flashlight from a fixed point on the wall.
After turning on the switch, he looked through the light and finally saw clearly the driver's body lying at his feet.
Then he looked to the other side of him. The commander, who was fixed in his seat by his seat belt, had his head hanging down, and there was a sharp piece of broken armor stuck in his chest.
The blood had long since dried up, and the commander with his head hanging down had been dead for a long time. When it was penetrated by the Destroyer, it was like hell. The shock made the gunner faint, and he only regained consciousness just now.
He was also seriously injured, with a wound to his head and possibly a broken leg. Fortunately, his tank did not explode or burn, which allowed him to survive.
"Crack..." A grenadier opened the fallen hatch cover and saw the surviving gunner inside - he saw light coming from the gap and came to check.
"Oh my God! Damn it! What have you experienced..." Seeing the survivors, the grenadier showed an excited smile. He turned his head and shouted excitedly into the distance: "Hey!
