Extraordinary Courage, Remarkable Grit

Whoosh...

The sharp sound had barely registered when Logan was slammed to the ground by a powerful force, his face smashing into a mixture of dirt and grass.

Before he could even curse, a violent explosion sent searing pain through his body. His eardrums felt like they had been shredded, and his head was ringing so loudly it was as if he'd been trapped inside a giant bell and struck repeatedly with a hammer.

When he finally managed to lift his head, he saw a massive, smoking crater just five or six meters ahead. Damn, if he hadn't hit the ground in time, he would have been killed or at least lost a limb!

Logan turned to thank Steffenberg, who had pushed him down, but to his shock, he couldn't hear his own voice. This had never happened before, and a chill ran down his spine.

Steffenberg's mouth was moving, as if he were saying something, but Logan couldn't hear a single word.

No way! Am I deaf now? Can't hear people talking, can't hear beautiful music, can't even hear a woman's... moans? Oh my God, what's the point of living like this?

Logan was completely stunned.

The once noisy world had suddenly gone silent, and the stark contrast made him dizzy. He almost lost his balance, but Steffenberg quickly steadied him.

Helpless, Logan gestured to his deputy that he couldn't hear. Seeing this, even the usually composed "weapons encyclopedia" looked deeply worried. He opened his mouth wide, seemingly shouting at the paratroopers to keep up.

In the flickering light, Logan strained to spot familiar faces: Tobias had lost his cap and looked panicked, but at least he still had his rifle; Groth was crouched on the ground, one hand on his gun and the other supporting an injured comrade. Who was the unlucky guy? It seemed to be Hübi Kavak, a private from the second assault team. Judging by how he was clutching his left arm, it looked like he'd been hit.

Staggering forward, they soon came across a drainage ditch less than half a meter deep. Fortunately, the roadbed was a few dozen centimeters higher than the ditch, making it a decent temporary position.

Without caring whether the ditch was wet or dry, Logan followed Steffenberg and jumped in.

With a temporary position to rely on, the paratroopers picked up their weapons and began firing northward. However, their bullets were unlikely to pose a real threat to the distant British targets.

Bang!

Logan suddenly heard a muffled sound. Instinctively, he turned his head and saw a four-man German gun crew by the armored vehicle firing a 37mm anti-tank gun!

Boom!

A wave of sound crashed over him, and as he turned back, he saw the shell land far behind him, setting an abandoned truck ablaze in an instant!

Sound. It was sound. My ears could hear again!

Although the sounds were somewhat distorted, a spark of hope ignited in Logan's heart: Heaven hasn't abandoned me! (In reality, as ammunition technology advanced, the power of artillery shells and bombs had grown significantly. Temporary hearing loss due to explosions on the battlefield wasn't uncommon. It's just that Logan, being a rookie, had little experience in this area. Ha ha ha!)

"Hey, buddy, things aren't looking good!"

Beside him, Steffenberg heard the complaint and looked at Logan with pleasant surprise. "Leutnant, are you alright?"

"Uh, much better!" Logan scratched his head, realizing it was covered in sand and dirt.

"That's good! Now we need to figure something out, or we'll all be trapped here!"

Logan gritted his teeth. The situation was more chaotic than usual. The attackers still hadn't revealed themselves, but the German forces on the road had already suffered heavy casualties. Fortunately, the soldiers were well-trained, and many were already fighting back under the command of their officers.

Boom!

Not far away, a German artillery team fired again. But before they could load the next shell, a sudden explosion erupted from the darkness. A blinding fireball lit up the night, and the terrifying force threw one of the gunners like a ragdoll several meters away. The other three were also flung from their positions.

"Damn it, looks like we've really run into the British Matildas!" Logan shouted. "To deal with these tough bastards, we need 88mm guns!"

"You mean the 88mm heavy anti-aircraft guns? I saw them half an hour ago in the Leibstandarte SS Adolf Hitler artillery convoy. They're probably in Wormhout by now!" Steffenberg's estimate was disappointing.

"How far are we from Wormhout?" Logan asked, already doing the math in his head. Considering the road conditions and travel time, they were probably about 7 or 8 kilometers away. The distance to the canal position was about the same. Essentially, they were stuck in the middle of the battlefield.

"Hard to say, but it'd take at least an hour and a half on foot," Steffenberg added. "If we head to the canal position, it might be a bit farther, but our defenses there are stronger. The problem is... if the British cut off this road, the main force of the Leibstandarte will be trapped in Wormhout!"

"Damn it! If only we could take out these tanks!" Logan muttered in frustration.

Under the cover of darkness, it wouldn't be difficult to withdraw this small paratrooper squad of less than 20 men. They could head to the canal position or retreat to Wormhout. But... if he retreated now, his men might thank him, but the reputation of fleeing from battle could cost him many future opportunities. What would Dietrich think of him? What would Student think? And what about the little mustache himself?

If he didn't retreat, what good would it do to stand and fight here? With just over a dozen paratroopers, taking out a Matilda would be incredibly difficult. And if he were unlucky enough to get killed or captured by the British, his future would be even bleaker.

While Logan was lost in thought, Leutnant Steffenberg didn't add fuel to the fire. Instead, he calmly analyzed the situation: "The enemy attacked from our northeast. If I'm not mistaken... they're probably from the British 3rd Division. Just this morning, we were planning to raid their headquarters!"

"You mean... that's Montgomery's unit?" Logan suddenly felt a bit like bulb lamp, thinking: It's understandable to be caught off guard by a famous general! If I hadn't let him off earlier, he might have already gone to meet their old King George V!

"Yes, according to our intelligence, it should be a motorized unit with plenty of tanks and vehicles," Steffenberg confirmed.

Logan hesitated for a few more seconds, then clearly told himself: Small tricks and schemes can only play a supporting role. To make a difference in war, great courage and wisdom are indispensable!

"Check the casualties!" Logan's voice was unusually calm.

The Leutnant was momentarily stunned but quickly responded, "Yes, sir!"

Logan quickly assessed the situation. With just rifles and grenades, they'd struggle to deal with armored vehicles, let alone the thick-skinned British infantry tanks. However, every weapon had its weaknesses. He vaguely remembered an older war movie where American soldiers were helpless against German heavy tanks. In the end, they cleverly lured the tank into a narrow alley where it couldn't turn and attacked its rear, successfully taking out the behemoth.

"The so-called turtle-like armor only applies to the front, right?" Logan quickly turned his attention to the German anti-tank gun crew that had been wiped out by enemy fire. The four gunners were dead, but their anti-tank gun was still lying there—unlike human flesh and blood, these metal beasts weren't so easily destroyed!