"Attention, the countdown begins now." In every bomber, the navigator and bombardier fixed his eyes on the bombing sight. The target is right in front of him. The highest precision must be thrown, especially, never Throw it into your own army.
One eye is squinted, the other is staring at the sight, and the countdown keeps in his mouth: "Ten, nine..."
When the count reached five, the bombardier hesitated for 0.1 second, 10,000 meters high in the sky, no matter how high the magnification, it is impossible to see each person clearly when zoomed in. He just thought the target was strange, as if it was an ant moving house. , There are a lot of grassy yellow dots moving outward.
No matter so much, before the new target data is issued, before the bombing order is modified, they can only strictly follow the current order.
"Three, two, one, drop a bomb!"
The bomb bay door in the abdomen was opened, and then, the fuselage suddenly lightened, and the bomb in the bomb bay was falling slowly.
After the mission is over, they climb and return to home. They don’t have to turn around at all. They just fly forward and return home.
Run, run, the farther you run, the safer you are.
Lyudmila, panting, heard a rumble in the distance, and when she turned her head back, her eyes were full of fear.
The black bomber occupied her vision, and then one could see huge bombs sliding down from the belly bomb bay, with graceful curves. Toward his original position.
"Puff." Lyudmila, who had run weak legs, could no longer run forward. She turned her head and her legs were already kneeling on the grass.
"God, please bless their souls to ascend to heaven and gain eternal life."
When the Soviets were just established, superstitions were broken. Except for the belief in mlism, everything else must be banned. However, the Orthodox Church has been circulating in Russia for a long time. When the Great Patriotic War began, almost most people , They still believe in God.
Hope God bless.
Lyudmila was praying for those who could not run out, but didn't know that her behavior saved her life.
"Chichichichi." At this moment, on the small soil **** behind him, there was the sound of a chainsaw, one after another, terrifying machine gun bullets, from the top of the small soil slope, pouring over here frantically.
Several female soldiers were knocked down instantly. Once they were shot, there was more than one bullet hole on their bodies. Blood gurgled from their bodies, and they fell back weakly.
When he lay down, the blood stained the ground under his body and slowly merged into a stream.
Lyudmila fell to her knees at the right time, and the bullet flew over her scalp almost, so Lyudmila made a gesture and fell down.
On the battlefield, pretending to be dead is an act of the weak, and at the same time pretending to be dead does not guarantee escape. In case the Germans like to crush the corpse, the tank will go up and die.
But now, Lyudmila knew that she had no other choice. There was no danger to defend and no position. When they ran, all their heavy weapons were dropped.
You must save your own life before you can have a better chance of killing the Germans. When she fell, she took off a grenade. If there were Germans to clean the battlefield, she could also put her back.
The sound of gunshots here instantly swept down a row, and when Hans' periscope turned over, he was immediately happy: "That's a general, don't kill him, keep him alive!"
Generally speaking, when a senior commander goes to the front line, he will not wear his rank badge to prevent himself from becoming the target of the opponent's sniper. If he is hit by a fluttering bullet, he will be the most unjustified.
However, Zhukov was wearing his most handsome military uniform, and even his chest was decorated with medals.
For him, this was the last battle. He knew he was bound to die, but he wanted to die dignified. As a Soviet soldier, as the supreme commander of Moscow, he must be generous, and he must die great.
When ordered to leave the position and charge towards the enemy's position, Zhukov promptly took off his uniform with a medal on the outside, wearing only the shirt inside, and running out with others.
In this way, his identity is even more exposed.
The soldiers who had fumbled on the front line were covered with mud and his clothes were so dirty that he could not recognize the original color, but his body was very clean. The boots on his feet contained only scattered mud.
Such a person must be a high-ranking official or even a general.
If you kill him directly like this, it will be too cheap, and you'd better catch him alive!
"Understood." The loader replied, lowering the machine gun in his hand slightly, and the dense bullets passed through the leg of the general who was about to retreat.
"Tweet, twee." The bullet hit his legs, Zhukov's body was no longer under control, and he fell to the ground all at once.
At this moment, the other people started to retreat under the shots of the machine gun, with bombs behind and machine guns in front. They had nowhere to go.
And Zhukov's hand was groping around, and finally, he touched a rifle, his hand was holding the rifle, his two arms were hard, hard, and finally, his body was supported again.
Zhukov stood up again, sweat bursting out of his forehead. He had already seen the tank turret exposed behind the soil slope. At this time, his face was actually smiling.
Zhukov straightened his chest.
To die, you must stand and die, never kneel to live!
"Shoot, German, shoot me!" Zhukov shouted loudly.
"Boom!" At this time a few kilometers away in the sky, there was a dull noise, and the bomb that fell from the sky exploded for the first time.
With the explosion, large swaths of fog like things spread over the position, toward the position, and toward the running crowd.
Only Zhukov was still standing at the forefront. He straightened his spine and he was going to stand and die!
"Don't shoot." Hans said, "When the bomb explodes, we will go up and capture him."
Zhukov smiled. He smiled miserably. The Germans still didn't dare to kill himself.
Amidst the laughter, Zhukov slowly fumbled and fumbled from behind his body. He had a rifle on his shoulder, struggling, and the sweat on his forehead had dripped drop by drop.
When the hand stretched out again, there was already a grenade.
Want to capture yourself? no way! Zhukov opened his mouth and bit the drawstring.