Steel Soviet Union

Wittmann's No. 007 command-type King Tiger tank in summer two-color tiger stripes and spots camouflage continued to advance slowly along the street.

There are indeed many benefits to fighting in France. For example, the roads built by the French are relatively good. Although the King Tiger, which is wide and fat and weighs 70 tons, will grind down the road and make a creaking noise when driving on it, it is at least much better than driving on the dirt road in Russia.

If it is kept traveling at a constant speed of about 10 kilometers, Wegener can even fire while moving more accurately, hitting a tank-sized target no more than 500 meters away. This is already a pretty good result on an old tank without a stabilizer, and it also proves that the masonry roads built by these French guys are indeed of good quality.

"The gunfire over there seems to have stopped? Wittmann, it's getting quieter and quieter, listen!"

Wegner, who had a sharp ear, was the first to hear the change in the sound outside the bulkhead. This guy with particularly sharp ears seemed to have the superpower of hearing wind.

After receiving the reminder from Wegener, Wittmann took off the headphones on his hat and began to listen carefully to the sounds outside.

Even with the interference of the roaring and roaring gasoline engine of the King Tiger heavy tank, Wittmann could still clearly hear the extremely fierce firefight outside just now, and it had obviously changed now.

The gunfire coming from the central area of ​​the town has become much smaller, and it can even be said that it will die out soon.

The occurrence of such a situation on the battlefield where there was still a fierce exchange of fire can only mean one thing. After realizing something, Wittmann immediately grabbed the earphones, put them on the top of his head again, and then pressed the communication button of the throat microphone. He spoke.

"Enshel, what's going on over there? I can't hear the gunshots here. Is it over over there?"

The command-type King Tiger heavy tank is equipped with a higher-power inter-vehicle communication radio station, which has longer communication distance, stronger signal, and better guarantee of communication efficiency.

It was precisely because of this that Enschel's reply quickly rang in the headphones in Wittmann's ears.

"I'm finishing up, I've been too busy to contact you."

"The resistance of this bunch of garbage Allied forces is still relatively tenacious, but after more than half of the casualties, they behaved like the rumored British guys. Now in front of me are rows of Americans who raised their hands to surrender. There are so many good things in these bastards. Damn it, there’s a bastard with so many chocolates and chewing gum in his pocket that he can’t even fit a helmet in. Is his pocket a small mobile warehouse?”

The corner of his mouth was raised by Enschel's rare joke. Wittmann, who thought that the battle was basically over, continued to speak.

"Um, we haven't encountered a group of Americans surrendering here yet, but I guess they will soon."

"We also encountered relatively stubborn resistance along the way into the city. This group of Americans is inexperienced in fighting but is rare and tenacious. If they fight a few more battles and become more skilled, I guess they will become very difficult to deal with. "

"The more than twenty Yankee garbage tanks have been almost taken care of by our side. We killed at least eighteen or nineteen of them along the way. Have you encountered any over there? Check the numbers to prevent these garbage cans from running out of the city. ”

The conversation between Wittmann and Enschel unconsciously becomes less like a battlefield, which is exactly how it should be for these two battle-hardened veterans.

When they feel that their opponent deserves to be cheered up and dealt with with all their strength, they will naturally put away all their playful smiles and humor and deal with it with all their strength.

But the problem is that these American troops who can't even touch the soles of the Russians' feet are really bad. Are they worthy of the brothers' all-out efforts? That's obviously not worthy.

So at this time, they started to gossip and make battlefield jokes. Neither Wittmann nor Enschel saw anything wrong with this.

"We don't have many here, just a few in the single digits, but the total number is probably not much different from the number over there. These Americans were so scared that they even forgot to escape. How big are you? Don't worry about their tanks slipping away, there's no need to worry about that, trust me."

Confidence stems from the absolute strength and the weakness of his opponent. Wittmann did not refute Enschel's statement. After a brief final confirmation call, he made an appointment to meet in the town center and hung up.

"Hey! Wittmann! Look, those Americans are coming out!"

"Um?"

The repeated reminders from Wegener made Wittmann, who had just hung up the communication, shift his gaze back to the commander's periscope.

As Wegner said, those Americans who raised their hands in the local military salute were waiting in line at the front.

"We have laid down our weapons and do not pose any threat to you! We demand reasonable treatment as prisoners of war as stipulated in the Geneva Convention. Please do not harm us. We will remain in place as we are now."

"Damn it, is this why I learned German? Isn't it supposed to be an identity swap?"

The voices were louder and smaller, with loud shouting at the front and whispering at the back. Of course, Wittmann could only hear the first half of the most critical sentence.

Realizing what he had to do, Wittmann opened the hatch above his head, carefully raised the telescope out of the turret, and exposed half of his head to scan back and forth.

Nothing looked out of the ordinary behind the American soldiers who lined up to surrender. Everything was eerily quiet, and it didn't look like a place where war broke out.

Wittmann, who had been specially reminded before, raised his telescope and took a few more glances at the commanding heights of the surrounding street buildings. The result was that there was still nothing wrong. It seemed that these American soldiers had indeed surrendered sincerely.

"It's quite simple. If it were the Russian guy, he would still be working hard at this moment."

While muttering in his mouth, he took out a small iron horn from under his captain's seat, which Wittmann had specially ordered from a local French blacksmith. Wittmann felt that this thing would come in handy one day. It just so happened that his new car had a surprisingly large and spacious interior, and it would not be a problem to put a tin speaker next to it.

"Stand still and be patient. We will send people over to capture you. Don't think of any dangerous actions, otherwise we will directly open fire and destroy you! You have already seen the disparity in strength, and I will do what I say."

Wittmann, who was fighting against these American troops for the first time and was still unfamiliar with them, remained vigilant. Even when he shouted with a loudspeaker, he only exposed half of his head outside the car and stretched out the full horn.

But the content of such a slogan really made the American soldiers on the opposite side who were already very unconvinced feel more uncomfortable than swallowing flies alive.

"Fake! These bastards! If we can't call the planes and naval guns, what's the matter with your junk?"