On the battlefield filled with smoke, the god of death was fair to every warrior, and it never took sides. When the French team's shells fell on the heads of German tanks like raindrops, the powerful god gently flapped its dark wings and descended over the German team. It grinned and put its sharp sickle between the necks of the soldiers who were still offering sacrifices to it a quarter of an hour ago.

The greedy god never satisfies the amount of blood. The moans of the dying person are its appetizers, the broken limbs are its desserts, and all life, noble or lowly, brave or cowardly, are the objects of its hunt. The German team shed the first drop of blood in this battle.

"No. 342 was hit, God, poor Fendik."

When the smoke from the shell exploded dissipated, the driver Rawick shouted loudly.

The No. 342 tank was in the center of the first row of the formation, and the French must have regarded it as the command vehicle of the German tank group. It was immediately submerged by the French shells, and no one could tell how many 75mm shells it had hit. The tank that became the target of public criticism and its crew became the dust of history in an instant.

"Everyone should pay attention and spread the formation. One row and two rows go to the left wing, four rows go to the right wing, and three rows follow me. Move forward in a platoon-level combat formation, don't go straight, and everyone attacks forward! Assault!" Sneed yelled at the communicator desperately.

Now his heart was filled with regret. He finally realized how fatal a mistake he had made and how stupid his command to distance himself from the enemy was. He had brought himself and his brave subordinates into a dangerous situation. At this distance, he could not cause harm to the enemy, and the other party could obviously destroy himself easily. If he did not get rid of the current situation as soon as possible, the bottomless abyss waiting for him and this company must be.

"Fire! Don't stop! Attack, attack, disrupt the opponent's actions! Don't give them the chance to aim at us!"

Side gave the order loudly, and then he pushed the hatch on the head and stood on the command tower. Now he no longer cared about his personal safety. As long as he could save his company, he would be willing to pay any price.

"The third row goes to my right wing and shoot at the tanks in the middle of the opponent. No matter whether they can hit it or not. Don't slow down and drive at full speed!"

Sneed stood on the command tower and roared loudly, holding a telescope in his hand and stared at the French tank group opposite. His company had now dispersed, and under the leadership of their respective platoon leaders, they formed small three- or four-car formations, and roared towards the French army.

For Sneed, the current distance is life, and he must enter an effective attack distance before French tanks destroy him one by one. Although he still doesn't know how far this distance is, one hundred meters or fifty meters, he believes that he can always find this answer, but before that, he must ensure that he can reach that distance alive.

"One row and two rows, you can spread a little more and keep your current speed. Their 75mm cannon is fixed, don't give them a chance to aim at you." Sneed put down his telescope.

His car was driving by the burning wreckage of the No. 342 tank, Sneed, turned his head and looked at the destroyed chariot. The once majestic No. 4 tank now looks terrible. The entire front armor cracked from the edge of its welding line, and the additional armor plate tightened with a nut twisted and landed in front of the front of the car. The track had been broken, and the escape door on the side of the car had disappeared, leaving only a large hole spewing flames.

Several solid load-bearing wheels had fallen from the shock absorber and scattered around the wreckage. The car body was squeaking by the fire. The ammunition that had exploded constantly exploded in the car body. The thick black smoke mixed with bright red flames rolled up into the sky, and the air was filled with the stench emitted by rubber and corpses when they burned.

The turret of 342 was thrown away from the body of the car by violent explosion, and the bottom was overturned into the mud beside the car body. Various debris in the turret were scattered all over the ground, and a half-charred body was lying beside it. Although the distance was too far away, it was impossible to see the rank sign on the broken military uniform sleeve, but from the blond hair that could still be identified on the other end, it was Sergeant Fendik, the leader of the tank No. 342. He was the only one with such beautiful blonde hair in the car crew.

Looking at the miserable corpse of his subordinates, Snaed couldn't help but feel ache. This was the third car crew he had lost, and this time it was entirely caused by his own mistakes, and he would never forgive himself for this.

"Attack forward! Don't ceasefire!"

Sneeded with his bloodshot eyes, and the No. 4 tank charged rapidly while pouring shells into the French tank group. Although these shells that were only aimed briefly and were fired during the march had no accuracy, they still achieved the result that Sneed wanted.

The rapidly approaching German tanks and the artillery shells that kept falling around put the French tank group into chaos. They were unable to organize organized intercepting fire to block the German tanks from approaching.

As soon as the French tankers calmed down from the joy of destroying a German tank, they found that they had encountered a new situation. Looking at the German tanks scattered with crazy charges, the French tankers were a little at a loss. They didn't know which direction to attack the enemy first, and they didn't know how to stop the enemy from approaching.

Their commander, Colonel Jean Devaer, was not a competent commander, and he was at a loss for the sudden change in the German tactics.

Although this commander was not a coward, he was a complete waste. This had reached a consensus among his subordinates. But what the French soldiers did not expect was that there was an unknown idea in their commander's heart, which was an idea that could ruin all of them.

Although Colonel Jean Devaer's vanity was slightly satisfied with the vanity of his destruction, the commander thought that the battle was a mistake from the beginning, and the fighting enthusiasm in his heart that had been burned by the previous victory had long been extinguished by the crazy bombing of the German Air Force bomber. The powerful combat power of the German team made him want to retreat. If the division command had not ordered him to continue attacking forward, he would have led his tank regiment to retreat, if he had not had a slight fear of the military court, he would have led his tank regiment to retreat.

Colonel Jean Devaer believed that no matter how many German tanks he destroyed, how many German teams he destroyed, or how many fortress positions he occupied was useless. When the Germans made a comeback, all this effort would be silenced. He even doubted whether he and this force could survive the terrorist counterattack that the Germans were about to launch.

The colonel cursed his stubborn boss from the bottom of his heart. If he hadn't proposed this damn offensive plan, he would have fallen into this field. If he could return to the Army alive this time, he vowed to use all his connections to drive the bastard out of the army.

Jean Devaer had never encountered this situation now. The French armored soldiers textbook only had how tanks cooperated with infantry attack tactics, and did not explain how to fight with the opponent's tank group. Looking at the group of German tanks that were approaching quickly, Jean Devaer could only order his subordinates to open fire. He did not think about how to allocate his firepower, nor did he order to change the formation that was beneficial to him. The commander gave all his powers to his subordinates and let his subordinates choose the target of attack.

The French tanks stopped in place and slowly turned the body in all directions, trying to buckle the scope of the fast moving targets into the main gun. However, this was too difficult for a slow tank like them. The precise differential rotation could not keep up with the speed of the tanks that were sprinting wildly. The French tank hands were firing round after round of shells, but the precious shells all fell far behind the German tanks, creating one crater after another on the French land in vain.

Finally, a few awakened French officials discovered the problem, and quickly stopped their subordinates from shooting in a messy and futile way. The French tanks on the center line slowly retreated, while their wings began to slowly unfold, and the defenders' tanks were transferred to the front. The French unfolded a wide shelling team and started the organized shelling again under the command of those low-level officers.

The power of forty medium-sized tanks was terrifying. High-density shelling completely blocked the way for German tanks. Snyder began to suffer losses one after another. Tank No. 343 was smashed into scrap iron, and all members of the crew were killed. Then No. 345 and No. 341 were shot one after another. No. 345 was blown into pieces on the spot, while No. 341 was paralyzed on the offensive road and thick smoke emitting.

Since then, Sneid's fourth row disappeared from the German army sequence, and German tanks attacked the French right wing's attack forces.

Immediately afterwards, two tanks in the left-wing attacking force, No. 322 and No. 315, were also beaten to the ground, and the crew members were not sure of their lives. The successive blows made Sneider enter a state of explosion. The tank company commander stood straight on the command tower with shrapnel scattered and issued one order after another.

He would never tolerate his company being destroyed worthlessly. Even if the entire army was wiped out, he would have to drag a few French tanks to take care of his brothers.

"Shot smoke bombs. Re-formed and assault at full speed!"

Sneeded loudly, now they were only about three hundred meters away from the French tanks, and they should be able to rush across this distance before the smoke dissipated. With his order, a row of smoke bombs exploded in the French tank group. In a blink of an eye, the French tanks were shrouded in the white smoke. The landing point of the French shells began to get farther and farther away from the German tank group, and the shooting began to become scattered.

Thirteen German tanks that survived this death assault took this opportunity to quickly reorganize their formation and then rushed into the thick fog. The German armored forces began the final assault, determined to defend their honor with their lives. But no one noticed at that time that the sound of gunfire on the distant village positions had stopped, and a stream of smoke and dust filled the horizon at the end of the road. The highest-level rescue force in German history would appear in front of everyone.

In the next chapter, the protagonist whom everyone has been looking forward to can finally appear. The next story will be unfolded by this apostle. It is time to let him move his muscles after resting for so long. Before that, I would like to pay tribute to the brave soldiers who appeared before. Thank you for your hard work. Haha.

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Chapter completed!