Chapter 682: The Best Prisoner of War

The Italians raised their hands just like the French Army, but unfortunately, the morning sun on the Alps wasn't strong enough to tan their armpits.

"Do not be too harsh on the Italians who have already surrendered," so Patrick alone rushed forward with the machine gun. When he reached the turn, he could see at least four vehicles abandoned where they were, while the rest were hastily retreating, reversing away from him.

This scene, all too familiar, stirred the ancient memories rooted deep within Patrick.

It was a feeling of bloodline awakening. As a German machine gunner, Patrick knew he could do better.

After a moment's thought, Patrick suddenly dashed straight down the mountain.

The slope varied greatly, steep at times, gentle at others, but it was below the snow line, so there wasn't much snow. The sun-exposed ground was bare, while the shaded areas were covered with snow.