War Fiction Practice (Defender 7): Graves of the Fireflies (6)

The familiar star-shaped engines let out a humming roar, and the steel tracks planed small pits in the sandy flats.

　　As the tracks left the hard road and entered the mudflats, I understood why their tank impact tactics were not working.

　　The wet and sticky sand almost wanted to suck our old tank into the abyss.

　　"Stop, aim! Direction 3-3-0, distance 700, armor-piercing bullets! ”

　　I knew that our firefly's damn grass green paint on the dark brown sand was so glaring that we could only eliminate the enemy before they could react.

　　I could see the observers spotting us and running toward the tank, and I could feel the lightning-white light.

　　The artillery emitted a fiery flame, the shell landed accurately on a tank, the air wave and shock wave rolled up the soldiers and tank attachments near the hull, and the goddess scattered around, and the huge fire instantly made me realize that something was wrong!

　　This TMD is a high explosive bomb!

　　"Damn it, Wolf! (Reloader) Armor-piercing bullets! ”

　　"Ready to fire ammunition in the chamber!" Sir. ”

　　"Quick, don't stop, start the engine, maneuver!" Wolf! Reload! Armor-piercing bullets! ”

　　In the shaking telescope, the tank stopped, and the commander drilled out of the car, trying to figure out what was happening, and the explosion of the high-explosive shell seemed to jam his tank turret.

　　The remaining three tanks also began to turn their turrets, because to avoid crushing the infantry, the hulls turned much less.

　　The remnants of infantry seemed to be rescuing the remnants of the wounded.

　　I know those damn Imperial tanks, the damn pot heads don't have flat turrets, and the problem of sticking heads is very serious.

　　But why... hand... I couldn't stop shaking.

　　"Wolf!"

　　"Loaded!"

　　"Short stop! Direction 0-1-0, distance 650, enemy tanks! shoot! ”

　　The hull sank fiercely, then stopped where it was, and the artillery shook up and down twice, and came to a standstill.

　　The explosive effect of the armor-piercing shell was much worse than that of the high-explosive bomb, and the gunner obviously understood what I meant, and instead of attacking the tank whose attachment was ignited by the high-explosive shell, he aimed his fire at the tank that reacted the fastest and had already aimed half of its hull at us.

　　An armor penetration depth of 500 m and 140 mm could theoretically penetrate enemy side armor or the rear of a turret.

　　The armor-piercing bullet went down the position between about the second and third load wheels, observing the bullet point, and there was no such thing as a bounce, but the rotation of the body did not stop.

　　A feeling of powerless despair emerged from the bottom of my heart, and the chill from my weak hands slowly climbed up my shoulders.

　　"Quick, maneuver, don't stop!"

　　I shouted, I knew Wolf knew what to do without my command, and he picked up the shell as if he were picking up a branch from the ground.

　　My gunner was the best gunner in the fully armored battalion, and he was able to accurately hit the turret seat of the T34 a kilometer away with this seventeen-pounder gun.

　　Don't be afraid, just get closer, as the Air Force lads said on the radio...

　　Rush up! Fight with the enemy!

　　The flames with the breath of death drilled out of the seat circle of the tank that we hit, the commander jumped out of the car wrapped in flames, and the barrel and hatch spewed out a black column of smoke more than ten meters high, and then turned into a huge fire dragon.

　　The flames shrank back as if something was brewing, and then the huge explosion tore the tank apart, and I watched as the round turret flew up a few meters before falling, smashing heavily on the burning hull.

　　Martyrdom is... It takes time...

　　We're not going to be like them, are we?

　　The silent explosion was not silent, the air waves rolled and roared in my face, the salty smell of seawater, the bitter smell of dynamite, and the rust smell of blood.

　　It's disgusting.

　　"Loading complete!"

　　"Emergency stop! Yikes! ”

　　If it weren't for our misloading, we would have destroyed three enemy tanks, but the battle didn't, I had seen the fire coming from the muzzle of that tank, and then the hull was a jolt.

　　The tank then crossed half a circle on the ground with the one-sided track jam and crashed into the anti-tank cone on the side.

　　"Charlie (the driver) is dead!"

　　Wolff's voice came over the radio, hoarse, and I continued to look at the enemy tank, the hull still untied, the fragile side facing us, but the low and rounded turret was already pointing at us.

　　The situation is terrible...

　　I felt my legs being held and my whole body sticking out of the tank...

　　"Wolf, you damn it, what are you doing?"

　　"It shouldn't be you... sergeant. ”

　　The feeling of weightlessness was not good, and me and my Smyser submachine gun rolled down the tank.

　　The sharp headache made me feel as if someone had poured a bag of cement into my head and kept stirring.

　　I was in pain and couldn't get up.

　　A blurry picture...

　　Gray skies...

　　Dark and mushy sand...

　　Burning fireflies turning turrets...

　　The most vicious curses of the mild-mannered Irish lad (the gunner) came over the radio, urging Wolf to reload quickly...

　　Charlie whispered weakly...

　　“mama…”

　　Finally, our beloved fireflies fired the last shell of their lives.

　　Knowing he would never get another chance to reload a shell, Brown climbed out of the turret and grabbed Wolff's collar with one hand.

　　The tank exploded at this moment, and the sharp sound of scraping glass masked all the noise, and (from the commander's point of view, this refers to tinnitus) I watched Wolfe being engulfed in flames in the hatch.

　　Brown fell backwards, his hands disappeared, everything on the battlefield lost its color, and only the color of blood remained in the gray-white background.

　　We've destroyed two tanks, we've tried our best, we can't do anything anymore.

　　I tried to get up, only to find that my limbs had been hung by the barbed wire arranged and I could not move at all.

　　I could only watch as my Irish lad knelt on the ground and screamed, not even having the ability to bandage him.

　　A small group of Imperial troops ran from the beach, strange birch camouflage topped with army green helmets, and a non-commissioned officer-like man, after determining that there was no danger on this side, dragged the Irish boy to the side of the trench, while catching a trembling young man from the line.

　　It was as if someone had let go of their breath in my ears, clearing away the pressure, and the troubling noise of war was pouring into my head again.

　　"(Chinese)"

　　Like a teacher scolding a student who couldn't do anything well, the non-commissioned officer smashed the young soldier's back with the butt of his rifle.

　　Something enough to evoke humiliating historical memories is repeated by the fireflies, and all I can sit on is look at them coldly...

　　The white bayonet stabbed into the gunner's back, and the Irish lad did not sacrifice, but hummed in pain.

　　I could clearly hear the sound of bayonets thrusting into his body, breaking bones, and the beastly cries of the guy.

　　Don't look at other people's faces, everyone here is wrong.

　　The Guys of the Imperial Army seemed to have just spotted me, and I heard the rattlesnake-like hiss, and then with a loud noise sank into darkness and dead silence.

　　I lay on the barbed wire, looking at the tetrahedral concrete building with a missing corner, and I never thought in my life that the damn anti-tank cone would save my life.

　　It took me a minute to come back, and then I remembered how painful it was to be shot.

　　A sapper is dismantling it with wire cutters

The barbed wire on my body, the doctor was bandaging my wounds, and the damn reporter was still patting me!

　　I am familiar with the sound of firefly tanks' guns and rumbling tracks, old Bren armored vehicles and firefly tanks that brought out of our battalion...

　　Even with heavy casualties...

　　even though...

　　"Morphine! Give him morphine! Damn it! ”

　　"Mr. Three (surgeon, real name Zhang Sirui), quickly left, the enemy began to rebel. Attacked! ”

　　I am reminded of a dream last night when I saw the glorious flag of return flying, and I was awarded the Medal of Dedication to the Nation, for my bravery, commanding my crew in a rain of bullets and bullets, rushing towards the enemy like Don Quixote, regardless of his life.

　　When my poor mother knew that I had died heroically on the battlefield, she would be proud of it.

　　"Do you know what I saw?" "Doctor," I laughed, "I saw them... I saw them coming towards me..."

　　"Who?"

　　"Riding a Rainbow Dash (Note 1)"

　　"Who TM gave him an injection of Pafidine!" (Note 2)"

　　It was cold and there was only the smell of burning in the air.

　　"Don't sleep..."

　　"Wake up..."

　　"CNM's... Can you hear it? ”

　　"Don't sleep..."

　　"Conscript!"

　　"Righteousness..."

　　Note 1: The character in Rainbow Dash Pony, with wings, is blue. The white table refers to valkyria in Norse mythology, a female warrior chosen by the gods to ascend to heaven, who gave the dead a wonderful kiss on the battlefield and led them into the valhala, but ironically the sergeant was an atheist (as a foreshadowing later).

　　Note 2: Pafidine is an anesthetic analgesic with hallucinogenic effects.

(End of Grave of the Fireflies)