Artillery Battle

The position was instantly thrown into chaos, with bombs and shrapnel flying everywhere, like a pot of boiling porridge.

This was Qin Chuan's first experience of an air raid, and the fear of it left a lasting shadow in his heart.

It wasn't just because the aerial bombs contained much more explosive than artillery shells, causing the ground to shake with each impact as if an earthquake were happening repeatedly. It was also because of the special and extremely terrifying whistling sound they made as they fell from the sky—a sound that seemed like a countdown, growing from distant and dull to loud and intense, followed by a "boom" as large numbers of soldiers were thrown high into the air.

Qin Chuan felt as if he were in a stormy ocean, with lightning flashing in the sky and huge waves surging on the sea. Each incoming wave seemed capable of tearing him apart. It was only then that Qin Chuan realized how fragile the sense of security he got from his comrades was. No one could help him, and of course, he couldn't help anyone else. All Qin Chuan could do was lie flat on the ground, letting wave after wave of sand engulf him, not daring to make a move.

At one point, Qin Chuan even had the urge to run out of his cover, as he couldn't help but think that a bomb might be falling directly overhead. But in the end, he suppressed the urge because he knew that running would only result in his disappearance from this world.

Finally, the explosions began to die down.

Qin Chuan found himself almost buried in the sand thrown up by the bombs. In fact, many people were buried—some had been knocked unconscious by the explosions or were injured and couldn't climb out of the sand. Without immediate help from their comrades, they were forever entombed in the sand.

Fortunately, Qin Chuan was still conscious. He used his hands and feet to crawl out of the sand and looked around—everything was unrecognizable: the place where houses should have been was now a pile of rubble, the trenches had been leveled, and craters overlapped where the ground had once been flat.

"Whistle..." Qin Chuan heard a sharp whistle, followed by someone shouting hoarsely, "Prepare for combat, the British tanks are coming!"

Qin Chuan shook the sand off his helmet and looked into the distance. Sure enough, he saw British tanks advancing from the front—at least a hundred of them, followed by waves of British soldiers wielding Enfield rifles, full of murderous intent.

They moved slowly, perhaps fearing anti-tank mines, or maybe to allow the infantry to keep up, but they exuded an aura of destruction, as if nothing could stand in their way.

Seeing this, Qin Chuan felt a chill run down his spine. He felt that in the face of these tanks, the German soldiers, including himself, were like the mantis trying to stop a chariot. Qin Chuan doubted the point of resistance.

This thought made Qin Chuan almost want to run away, but he held back—Qin Chuan was now a squad leader, with ten soldiers under his command. They were all looking to him, and if he ran, his fate might be the same as that of Burge.

Qin Chuan desperately hoped that higher command would give the order to retreat, but to his disappointment, the order never came.

"Are they crazy?" Qin Chuan thought incredulously. "What are we supposed to use to stop these tanks?"

As Qin Chuan questioned, the whistling sound of artillery shells suddenly filled the air.

The shells came from the German side, landing heavily among the British tanks, kicking up columns of sand and, of course, taking out British soldiers. The formation of British tanks was thrown into disarray.

Seeing this, Qin Chuan understood—the Germans planned to stop the tanks with artillery.

It was a smart tactic. The Germans occupied Tengger and the city had many buildings, which were perfect for hiding artillery. Otherwise, deploying artillery in the open desert would make them easy targets for enemy planes.

But now, the German artillery had survived the intense British bombardment.

Moreover, because the German artillery was hidden in the buildings, while the British artillery was deployed outside the city, one was hidden while the other was exposed—this was why the British artillery hadn't fired yet.

Soon, the British artillery began to retaliate, trying to suppress the German fire to cover the tank advance, and an intense artillery duel erupted over the battlefield.

The German artillery was prepared for this. In fact, targeting the tanks was only part of their mission. Another part of the artillery was waiting for the British to open fire.

As soon as the British artillery fired, they exposed their positions, and the German shells began to rain down on them.

Soon, the British artillery fire dwindled, while the German bombardment grew more intense.

If it weren't for the presence of British aircraft and bombers still diving down to attack the exposed German guns, the British would have been forced to retreat by now.

The British tanks slowly advanced toward the German positions, enduring the German shelling.

A German officer shouted, "Open fire!"

Gunfire immediately erupted, as German soldiers emerged from the sand piles, raising their weapons and firing at the enemy.

The British bombardment had one advantage—the trenches had been destroyed, so the German soldiers were randomly distributed in the sand, with no discernible pattern. The sand and dust kicked up by the bombs also provided excellent camouflage, making it hard to spot the German soldiers even in broad daylight.

This was crucial for the Germans, who lacked anti-tank weapons. Without these weapons, they had to get close to destroy the tanks, and to do that, they needed to approach the tanks unnoticed. The sand provided the cover they needed, something the British had not anticipated.

One German soldier lay motionless in the sand, even as a tank rumbled past him and several British soldiers stepped on his body. The British assumed he was a corpse and paid him no attention.

He was waiting for an opportunity.

Finally, the opportunity came—a tank was rolling straight toward his position, its tracks kicking up streams of sand like a water wheel lifting water.

He realized the tank's tracks would crush him, and he even considered that his identity tag would be ground to pieces—the only way his comrades could identify him, and the only proof his family would have of his fate.

Thus, he would become one of the missing on the battlefield.

But he didn't move, and he didn't hesitate.

He quietly calculated the tank's speed, and when the moment was right, he fiercely pulled the fuse on the bundle of grenades hidden in the sand.

The British soldiers noticed him, as a plume of blue smoke suddenly rose from the sand. They shouted and fired their rifles, but it was too late. The tank had already rumbled over him, followed by a massive explosion.