Renne's upper body was exposed outside the tank's turret, leaning against the hatch and looking at the field hospital beside him. Not far from his tank, the artillery of the SS 1st Armored Division was desperately loading ammunition for the 150mm caliber howitzer.

Several soldiers lifted the shells out of the ammunition box and stuffed them into the cannon bay. Then the gunner on the side quickly closed the bolt, then shouted a warning, and the soldiers around them covered their ears.

"Boom!" Another shell passed through the river on the edge of Seandang and flew towards the defensive position of the Far-Matt Team. A few steps away from this cannon, several officers were watching the result of the shelling with scissors. They stood up, drew on the map twice, and then pointed to the distance to discuss what.

A few hours ago, the vanguard of the German Army A Group attacked Setang. The French defenders fought to the death, but were eventually driven to the other side by Germany. French soldiers broke the bridge at the last moment, and the attack of the entire German troops was blocked.

But then the German engineers began to build bridges on the river, and the artillery that arrived began to cover fire. French troops resisted stubbornly on the other side, but the effect was not obvious.

The troops of the 3rd Armored Division of the SS have entered the attack position, and then they will cover the troops to cross the river, cut into the positions of the French troops and destroy all things that block the road.

Rennes asked Bowman to park the tank next to a collapsed building and then jumped out of the chariot. He saw several German grenadiers pulling a huge German flag on a roof, and it seemed that German planes would start bombing in a short while.

A truck drove past him, dragging a tall 88mm anti-aircraft gun behind him. The truck stopped not far from Renne's left hand, and then five or six artillery soldiers jumped out of the vehicle and began to set up anti-aircraft guns on an open space in a hurry. Several grenadiers came over and helped lift the shells of the 88mm anti-aircraft gun down from the truck.

Rennes walked to the field hospital across the street, with various wounded German soldiers lying on the stretcher and camp bed. He walked over without expression, looking at the white cloth tent on the corner of the broken house, and looking at the wounded inside with broken arms or legs.

Renn walked to a hospital bed and looked at the blood-stained young man on it moaning in pain. His arm was hit by a machine gun, and his entire shoulder and left arm were broken. After random bandage, he was now lying on the bed with no breath. The pair of eyes that had lost their expression stared at Renn, as if they had a lot to say. Renn didn't say anything, but looked at him condescendingly. After only a while, he was covered with a gray face by a medical soldier with a white cloth.

"Boom!" Another cannon sounded, and a wounded soldier not far away began to cry and burst into tears: "O my God! I want to go home! I want to go home." He was punched through his calf with a bullet and sat on the ground, because his injury was not too serious and he didn't even get a bed. On the bed he leaned against, a soldier with a head injured was lying motionless.

"Long live the head of state! Sir! What's wrong with you?" A medical soldier saw Rennes, walked over and greeted a Deutschess, wiped his hands with the dirty apron on his chest, and asked with a frown.

"I heard that there was a fierce battle here in the morning. I'll take a look at the situation." Rennes was startled by a scream not far away. There was a wounded soldier who was pressing on the operating table by two people, cutting off his forearm bit by bit with a saw. He looked at the tragic scene over there, and then said to the medical soldier in front of him.

"In the morning, the French set up two crossed machine gun positions here. They killed at least 20 of our soldiers before the tanks arrived." The medical soldier pointed to the houses on both sides, where there were mottled bullet marks that proved the fierce battle in the morning.

"Later they blew up the bridge, and two officers and more than a dozen grenades responsible for seizing the bridge were injured." The medical staff briefly introduced the casualties and then pointed to everything in front of them: "It was noon, a forced crossing attack organized by the 2nd regiment. All the injured people were here, and a few people were missing. The French had several machine gun positions on the other side, which were very hidden."

"Are there any anti-tank guns?" Renn asked.

"I don't know much about this! You can talk to the officers in that building. They are from the 2nd Battalion of the 2nd Regiment." The medical soldier pointed to a relatively complete building in the distance and said, "The 2nd Battalion is located there. Of course, if you want to look around, I advise you not to go to the river, where there is a fire."

"Thank you. Can I help you?" Renn looked around and asked politely.

"Oh! No need! There are all very dirty work here. It will stain your military uniform." The medical soldier smiled and waved his hand, turned around, looked at a wounded man lying under his feet, and loudly explained to a grenade behind him: "Wreakman No. 31! What he needs is a priest, not a doctor. Next!"

The soldier's entire intestine was smashed, and every breath he breathed, bright red blood flowed out of his nose. He could not speak because blood would be squirted, so he only looked at Renne with a begging gaze, hoping that he could help him.

"I can't help you because I'm not a doctor or a priest." Renn looked down at the soldier, then bent down and said to him, "I'm just a soldier who killed people for the Head of State... I can promise you that I can help you kill a few more enemies before you die."

The soldier's mouth moved, then closed his eyes and stopped breathing. And in another corner of the entire field hospital, a soldier was shouting: "Tell me dad! I still love him! Tell the head of state, I did my best! Tell the head of state! I did my best! He hit me! He hit me! I did my best!"

The soldier was shaking because of morphine's nonsense, and his excessive excitement made him tremble all over. He grabbed the arm of the medical soldier who performed the surgery on him. The more he spoke, the less his strength, and eventually fell on the operating table and lost all his vitality.

As Renn looked at him, the medical soldier walked to another wounded soldier, pressed the soldier who was shot in the abdomen, reached out and stuck his fingers into the bullet hole, and blood suddenly gushed out, like a small fountain. Renn looked quietly, not even moving his eyebrows.

Amid the extremely fierce shouts of the soldier, a bullet was dug out. The medical soldier threw the bullet to the ground, pointed to the soldier who was still screaming, and said to the grenade behind him: "Arrang two people to help him press the wound, I will come back to deal with him later! If his wound continues to bleed, come to me!"

The grenadier nodded and called the two infantrymen at the door to help, asking them to do what the medical staff said. Then he followed the medical staff without saying another word, and continued to check the wounded one by one.

"Ah!" Another wounded soldier screamed heart-wrenchingly, and his arm was hit by a shell shrapnel. The medical soldier glanced at him and pulled the shrapnel out as soon as he reached out. The wounded soldier's arm suddenly felt bloody, splashing the medical soldier's face.

The medical soldier didn't even look at the wounded soldier. He wiped his hands and said, "Cluster the hole with his fingers! When the two people who were responsible for bandages over there come, you can leave. The trauma on his arm is not fatal, so let it go first."

"How can you treat the wounded so rudely?" A grenademan who came to help frowned and looked at the medical staff and questioned. He didn't want to be carried here to be taken like this after being injured.

"Mr. Grenadier! I haven't slept for 2 days and dealt with more than 70 wounded people! If I follow the procedures for each one, I can only save a dozen people a day!" The medical soldier's eyes were covered with bloodshots, and he no longer paid attention to the stunned soldier who questioned him and walked towards another stretcher in the distance.

Renn did not look back and said to Andrei who walked behind him: "This is war. No matter what the reason is, there is always someone who will die for these bullshit reasons. I am not afraid of death, so I come here to kill people and kill those who want to kill me. Do you know now? This is war! All you can do is to survive desperately."

The soldier on the stretcher blew in pain and moaned loudly, but he still stuffed his fingers into his bleeding arms and stuttered to the medical staff who had walked away, "Thank you...thank you."

Andre bypassed a wounded soldier who was lying on the ground and groaning, walked to Renn, and whispered: "The news comes from the battalion headquarters. The Air Force will bomb the other shore in an hour. At that time, the engineers will set up a floating bridge. We are ordered to cover the infantry to build a bridgehead on the other shore."

"Let's take the lead?" Renn asked.

"Because our tank has plate skirts on both sides, it has stronger defense capabilities. So Company Commander Carter asked us to take the lead." Andre replied.

"It's okay. I'll go back and develop a tactic with Carter later." Renn nodded, turned around and walked out with Andre. Behind them, screams continued to be heard in the entire hospital, but there were no special expressions on the faces of the two people.

"Get some food!" Renn walked to the side of the tank and issued an order to cook: "Then wait for the order from the company to set off. Check the ammunition and send the used drums to the logistics company."
Chapter completed!