studiobondurri Chapter 668: 627 brutal close combat
Chapter 668: 627 brutal close combat
Chapter 668: 627 brutal close combat
As the platoon leader ran forward, a bullet whizzed past his steel helmet. The Shen Army troops quickly spotted him and fired several shots at him.
Fortunately, there were no machine guns nearby, and the sporadic single shots were actually very inaccurate, so the platoon leader managed to sprint to the crippled No. 4 assault gun without harm.
With the hunk of metal as cover, the bullets assaulting him greatly decreased. It was behind the No. 4 assault gun that the platoon leader noticed several Tang Army soldiers lying on the ground.
He knelt on one knee and examined the corpses of these soldiers. Some had bloody orifices, others wounded chests; all had been killed by the recent explosion. The damn large mine had achieved in an instant what even the Shen Army might not have accomplished.
Wiping his face, the platoon leader stood up and carefully inspected the paralyzed No. 4 tank, whose tracks had snapped from the blast and hung loosely on the deformed drive wheel.
The entire muffler had fallen off the exhaust pipe mounted at the back of the vehicle. Of the eight road wheels, two from the front four were missing, with two lying next to the tank wreckage.
...
“It’s over...” Seeing such a horrific scene of the explosion, the platoon leader knew that the chances for the assault gun’s crew inside were slim.
He tried from the back and, with great effort, climbed on top of the assault gun. Using the rear sloping surface as leverage, he carefully prepared to crawl near the hatch to try and see if he could open it.
Just as he was about to do so, the soldiers covering him shouted at him loudly. He looked over and saw his subordinates gesturing at him.
They pointed forward and then made a hand signal for the presence of the enemy. Then they were suppressed by incoming bullets and pulled back into the crater.
The platoon leader understood; the Shen forces also wanted the remnants of this assault gun, hence they had started a countercharge trying to approach it.
Peeking out, sure enough, dense Shen Army soldiers burst out of the trenches, brandishing gleaming bayonets, charging towards the assault gun.
“What have I done wrong in this lifetime to suffer here!” the platoon leader ducked back, pulled out a hand grenade from behind his pocket, pulled the pin and threw it.
The enemies were very close, at least 30 of them. He had to defeat them here to have a chance to retreat to a relatively safe position.
The Tang Army soldiers on the flank fired, their bullets sweeping across and knocking down seven or eight Shen soldiers who had followed and were about to rush out of their trenches. They cut off the reinforcement of the Shen soldiers ahead, but those who had charged out first were now very close to the No. 4 assault gun destroyed by the mine.
“Boom!” The hand grenade thrown by the platoon leader exploded amidst the crowd of Shen soldiers, lifting off five or six unlucky bastards.
The surviving Shen soldiers were thrown into disarray by the blast. Seizing the opportunity, the platoon leader stuck his head out, picked up the Thompson submachine gun and began spraying bullets.
“Tatatatatata!” The pleasant sound of the typewriter echoed in the platoon leader’s ears. One by one, the Shen soldiers in front of him fell down, and in a blink of an eye, another five or six were dead.
“Bang!” A Shen soldier shot at the Tang Army platoon leader, who drew his head back in time, the bullet missing him by inches.
After emptying his magazine, the platoon leader discarded the empty one and quickly loaded a new magazine, chambered a round, and once again stuck out his head.
“Tatatatatata!” He pulled the trigger, and the typewriter continued its crisp firing sound. Bullets poured out like rain, and the Shen soldiers on the opposite side fell one after another once more.
But he was only one man, able to secure one side but unable to cover the other: Shen soldiers from the other side of the assault gun’s wreckage were making their way around it, now dangerously close.
The enemy wouldn’t give him a chance to reload, and one of the charging Shen soldiers stabbed the Tang platoon leader’s thigh with a bayonet.
The piercing pain shot through him, and in anger, the Tang platoon leader’s arm, holding the pistol, was grabbed by another charging Shen soldier, who rendered him unable to pull free no matter how hard he struggled.
Just as he was about to completely despair, a Tang soldier with a bayonet charged forward, and like a fierce tiger, he sent the Shen soldier in front flying.
With a step on the head of the Shen soldier who had grabbed the platoon leader’s arm, using it as a foothold, he leapt high and impaled the stunned Shen officer through the chest with a thrust.
Before the Shen soldiers, who had not yet advanced and were shouting in readiness to fight to the death, could react, more Tang soldiers arrived, each with a Thompson submachine gun firing relentlessly.
Those Shen soldiers who had climbed onto the assault gun’s roof were hit by bullets and tumbled down from the vehicle, landing heavily on the ground, no longer fierce.
A series of gunshots rang out continuously, and as the Shen soldiers fell, no living enemies could be found nearby.
The Shen soldier who had just stabbed the Tang platoon leader’s thigh had not managed to withdraw his weapon before he received a blow from someone’s gun butt on his head, falling rigidly to the ground.
Before he could get up, a bayonet was thrust into his chest, and blood spurted from the groove, staining the brownish-yellow uniform of the Shen military crimson.
“I’ve always said that bayonet fighting is about the Model 1 rifle!” exclaimed the muscular Tang soldier wielding a 98K rifle with bayonet attached, withdrawing his weapon.
“Oh, give it a rest, buddy! You just weren’t quick enough to switch to a submachine gun,” said another officer, holding a Thompson, as he approached the wounded Tang platoon leader, looking down at the man on the ground: “Sir, are you alright?”
“Damn it, which of your eyes see me as alright? Get me a medic!” exclaimed the platoon leader of the Tang Army, gasping for air propped up against a Shen soldier’s corpse, his hand covering the hole in his leg, half laughing and half crying.
“Platoon leader! Are you okay?” Just then, the platoon leader’s own troops arrived, with several soldiers anxiously gathering around and asking.
“Get me a medic!” Looking at his blood-soaked trousers and the hand over his wound, the platoon leader weakly repeated.
“Medic! Medic!” shouted the soldier who had just offered to cover him, his voice booming, and soon a medic with a medical kit rushed over.
In the distance, the Shen position had been breached, and the Tang Army was pressing their attack. The remaining Shen troops could no longer afford to pay attention to the assault gun destroyed at the front of their position.
———-
Another update will follow later, after midnight.
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