Chapter 293 Wolfra's heavy gun

"Impossible, impossible! Absolutely impossible, this is fake!" The cardinal shook his head and was so frightened that he lost his voice.

Some of the believers behind him had already knelt down and kept kowtowing.

Is Victor the reincarnation of Jesus?

It would be better to say that Hong Xiuquan came back with the house deed and ascended the throne.

It's too fake!

The cardinal turned his head and glanced at the believers, with obvious malice and madness in his eyes.

An archbishop next to him tugged at his clothes after seeing it.

The cardinal took a deep breath and lowered his voice, "Cover this statue of the Virgin Mary and don't allow anyone to get close. I will report this to the Vatican."

The archbishop nodded, looked at the boss's figure who was running away in a rather embarrassed manner, turned his head and looked at the statue of the Virgin Mary. In the middle of the night, it was bleeding and crying, and it looked so creepy.

Someone must be playing tricks.

Do you understand science?

The archbishop looked at the believers kneeling in front of him with disdain in his heart, a bunch of ignorant fools.

Where is God?

It's all business!

The church is a place where a bunch of filth and dirt hide. There were many things before the millennium. After entering 2000, the FBI raided a doll toy store in Miami in 2007 and found a horrifying scene.

Those dolls use real heads and real skin, and most of them are children!

During the search, they also found that the local church was involved in the business. The pastor went to the church to welcome some refugees, but these refugees died strangely shortly after signing the "Voluntary Organ Donation Form after Death"!

And their organs will be put on the shelves!

Just when the CIA was about to continue investigating, it encountered obstacles and finally came to nothing. There is a lot of water in it.

It is said that there is the figure of the Democratic Party of the United States in it.

You think he is a church, he is just a tool for making money.

Faith is a highly profitable business that exceeds trillions of dollars a year.

Why can we see so many so-called labor-capital sects in the United States? In the final analysis, it is for money.

Is it for love?

Well, every day in the church, these archbishops touch the little boy's hand and give him a lewd smile, and God works for them. Now Victor is going to break in.

The sky is falling!

A phone call directly caused chaos in the Vatican.

And the next day's "Tijuana Post" also published a photo, which was a picture of the Virgin Mary and enlarged text.

"Delivering newspapers! Delivering newspapers! Free of charge!!"

Children wearing newsboy hats on the road were waving newspapers in groups of three or five.

"Delivered? Free?" A woman with a basket asked.

"Of course."

"Okay, give me one."

The newsboy handed it to the woman and pointed to a section on tiptoe, "Look here, here is the shocking news!"

The woman looked in the direction he pointed and saw a report titled: "Victor, saving Mexico, we are welcoming our own God!"

The signature was: X!

This X is actually the pen name of Goebbels, the Mexican Minister of Propaganda.

Of course, this "god-making plan" must include him. The propaganda genius, known as "Victor's mouthpiece", is not used at this time, isn't it a waste.

"Oh my God!" The woman was shocked after reading it, and hurriedly ran home with the newspaper.

Victor = Jesus? !

In the open-air cafe on the second floor next to the street, Goebbels sipped coffee with a smile that showed that he was in control of the overall situation.

Don't worry, let the bullets fly for a while.

In the position 40 kilometers east of Kuwait. Wafra, the lights are bright and the voices are bustling.

More than 30,000 anti-Iraqi coalition forces from all over the world gathered here. They are the vanguard to contain the port of Seoud and prevent the Iraqi army.

Rommel sat on the ammunition box, biting a piece of military beef in his hand, not to mention that it tasted good. Looking at the scene in the distance, there was a little worry in his eyes.

"Battalion commander, there is a welcome party tonight, why don't you go?" asked the deputy battalion commander Fedor von Bock.

"A bunch of gentlemen hypocritically making friends is not suitable for soldiers, and..." Rommel paused, "With such a big movement, do you think the Iraqis will not make any movement?"

"You mean the Iraqis will launch an attack?"

"It's not impossible. This is on the battlefield, not in a fashionable restaurant in New York. They all think they are here for tourism."

Fedor von Bock thought about it and felt that what he said was right. No wonder the battalion commander stationed the troops in the open area on the west side. It was a little far from the center and would not be wiped out in one go.

"Let our people pay attention at night and be more alert."

"Understood!"

Rommel squinted his eyes and took a vicious bite of beef.

Victor bless you!

Time passed slowly. It was 2:20 in the morning, when people were exhausted.

The staff in the duty room yawned and called their girlfriends at home with a public phone.

Suddenly, a sharp whistle was heard, and then the sky suddenly brightened. He looked up blankly.

Then his pupils suddenly shrank, "OMG!!"

He pressed the button on the table in panic, and suddenly, the whole station sounded an alarm!

"Dear...what's wrong? What's wrong?" The woman opposite asked in a panic.

Who cares about women now? Escape is the most important thing. The Portuguese soldier ran out in a panic!

As soon as the alarm sounded, Rommel, who was not very sleepy, immediately got up. He looked at the bright light in the distance, and just blinked, he saw the station boom...boom...boom...explosion.

It was set on fire!

Just say the Iraqis will come.

Without him calling, the soldiers of the 2nd Battalion quickly entered their designated positions.

After the artillery fire passed, the sound of roaring mountains and tsunami was heard in the distance.

If someone looked down from the sky at this time, they could see hundreds of T72 tanks rushing over, with countless infantry on both sides.

"Kill them all! Long live Saddam! Long live Iraq!! Victory belongs to us!"

Chu...chuchu!

With the sound of gunfire.

The first warm-up match begins!

"Set up, set up! Follow my orders, cross fire!"

On the marked "Lizard No. 1" highland, this is a small hill about 3 meters above the ground, with an area of ​​about 400 square meters.

Twenty-two people from Class C of the 1st Company of the 2nd Battalion are stationed here.

Squad leader Sergeant John Basilone said to his comrades beside him, his eyes fixed on the desert in front of him.

He could already hear footsteps and even a heartbeat.

Phew~!

At this moment, a flare shot up into the sky, illuminating the surrounding area very brightly.

Saw it!

John Basilone saw the dense crowd of people below, at least more than 1,000 people.

"Fuego! (Fire!)" he roared!

The M2HB-QCB heavy machine gun in his hand began to fire wildly.

Their squad is a firepower squad, equipped with 3 M2HB-QCB heavy machine guns and 3 M60 machine guns.

They are all bullet-eating "monsters".

The crossfire network formed instantly covered the several hundred meters ahead.

The Iraqi soldiers at the front were beaten into pieces.

A slightly overweight soldier was lying on the ground, holding an AK-63 in his hand, the Hungarian Army's standard rifle and the most commonly used individual weapon by Iraqi soldiers.

He was shivering on the ground.

A sergeant behind him crept over and grabbed his collar, "Rush up Iqbal! Stand up!"

Seeing that the fat man was still trembling, the sergeant was furious. He took out his pistol and planned to kill the fat man. He raised his body slightly...

"Ah!!" The bullet from the heavy machine gun glanced directly at his shoulder, and the bones were directly smashed. The sergeant screamed and rolled over.

Seeing his miserable condition, the Iraqi soldier named Iqbal did not dare to raise his head. He lowered his head and lay trembling beside the corpse of his comrade.

The heavy machine gun is a "beast" in positional combat, and you can't tie it down at all.

Just ten minutes.

John Basilone killed more than 60 people at least!

The bullet casings around him were piled up into a hill, and his fingers felt a little stiff when he pressed them...

The half-crouched subordinate behind him served as an observer, ammunition transporter, and substitute after John Basilone was killed. He had sharp eyes and patted the squad leader's calf, "There are tanks, there are tanks!"

Buzz~

The B-84-1 supercharged multi-fuel engine is also wild on the battlefield, pushing 41 tons of steel roaring.

The Soviet aesthetic of violence was on display on the battlefield.

"How many, how many?" John Basilone asked nervously.

The comrades behind him quickly squatted and stood upright, "One, two, three..."

"3 cars!!"

boom!

A few hundred meters away, the 2A46 short-recoil 125mm smoothbore tank gun fired a round!

It's so thick, NMD, no one can stand it!

The Japanese Emperor MacArthur always said: "Jamaica is going down!"

The shell exploded behind John Basilone, and the shock wave sent him flying two or three meters. He was rolling and had a splitting headache, but he still managed to get up, and he saw his observation hand not far away. Already killed.

The team members immediately redeployed their machine guns and fired hard at the infantry climbing up below!

John Basilone's face was covered with blood. He pushed his teammates away and opened the heavy machine gun with his mouth half open. His cheeks were trembling due to the recoil, venting his anger.

The Iraqi soldiers who were climbing up suffered a disaster, leaving dozens of corpses behind and retreating in panic. This defeat angered the T72 tank. In the reflection of John Basilone's pupils, the King of Land rushed towards him. , that muzzle seems to be accumulating strength!

Ruined…

I have to explain it here.

boom!

The T72 tank was shot on the side. The entire turret was blown crookedly, burned, and the tracks were broken. This big guy was like a stunned child. He wanted to run away, but his legs were broken and he couldn't run at all. In the original Waiting to die!

Phew~

Another shell directly blew the turret into the sky, and when it fell, it also killed two soldiers.

"M1A1!"

John Basilone raised his head and saw a US military M1A1 rushing up from a small slope, like an iron wing dominating the air.

Peng!

It hit the ground hard, splashing dust, and hit the side of another nearby T72 in front of everyone's horrified eyes. Your frontal ERA armor is reinforced, but not the sides...

59 tons PK41 tons!

Although the tank does not win by weight, in this head-to-head battle, weight still has a great advantage. The AGT-1290-TC's engine screamed, and it actually overturned the T72? ? ?

Of course, this is a special occasion...

At this moment, the M1A1 turned the turret gracefully and fired a shot at the front of another T72 30 meters away!

These M1A1s were all modified before going on the battlefield. The second-generation depleted uranium discarding sabot armor-piercing projectiles can penetrate 700 mm thick homogeneous steel armor at a distance of 2,000 meters!

Is the front of your T72 that thick?

Even if Megatron takes a hit from the front, he will turn into a gray wolf.

Explode directly!

Boom boom boom! ! It directly caused the T72's shell to explode and was blown into pieces.

John Basilone was stunned.

This is fucking art!

You can drive a tank like this.

"Who is this person? Do we have such a talented person in our camp?" he asked the team members next to him anxiously.

"It must be from the "Anubis" crew." A superior soldier said with hot eyes. Seeing the squad leader's puzzled expression, he said, "The commanders are Kurt Konispere and Otto Karl. Yoss, Michel Wittmann.”

"They are from the second company, sent from the tank battalion. I have seen their performance, and they are so cool. The battalion commander said that if they were on the battlefield, they would definitely be the kings of armored vehicles!"

John Basilone watched the US M1A1 main battle tank shoot at the infantry. The heroic look made him a little distracted, but he quickly came back to his senses and saw that the Iraqi soldiers seemed to be completely defeated!

His eyes suddenly lit up, and he looked at the tank that was running single-handedly across the battlefield. Adrenaline surged up, his scalp was numb, and his whole body was trembling with excitement. He picked up the M60 machine gun next to him and said, "Hi, brothers~~~~~"

After roaring, John Basilone rushed out.

The comrades behind him roared and followed up, charging back towards the hundreds of Iraqi soldiers who had collapsed!

Just like the Japanese charging shouting "Banzai!" (Banzai!) and the Soviets shouting "Ula" during World War II, the Mexican Northern Army shouted simply, "Hi~~" when attacking.

The approaching gunfire and tank fire behind them made the fleeing Iraqis pay no attention to anything and did not dare to look back. Even if someone wanted to fight back, they would be trapped in the rout of the crowd.

Why has it been so difficult to stop an army's defeat since ancient times? Wharton, such a great guy, was killed by a Korean guy.

There's no way you can calm a wild beast!

Rommel stood at a high point and observed the battle situation with a telescope. As a commander, what he had to do was not to charge, but to direct the soldiers where they needed to charge.

Of course he heard such a big movement in the west corner and thought it was a breach of defense. When he turned around and took a look, even he was stunned.

"Well done!" Rommel shouted excitedly, and Fedor von Bock looked over with a telescope.

"Whose subordinate is this?"

"Manstein of the Second Company."

"Write it down. I will ask for credit for them after the war."

Deputy Battalion Commander Bock hurriedly responded, with a flash in his mind, "Battalion Commander, we can have the 1st and 2nd companies launch a countercharge at this time to push our enemy down. The 3rd and 4th companies can launch a counterattack from the enemy's open space. Inserting into other friendly positions can catch other Iraqis off guard."

Rommel also decisively agreed to this plan and asked Bock to countercharge, while he led the third and fourth companies to help the friendly forces.

"Batalion Commander, I'll take over the task of supporting friendly forces!"

Without waiting for the other party to react, he ran to the positions of the 3rd and 4th companies, wrapped a white cloth around his arms, raised his arms and shouted: "The history of Mexico will change starting from us. Everyone, charge with me!"

He held the M16, bent over his belt, and thrust it into the enemy's ribs!

boom!

A huge explosion of flames ignited in front of him, and the bullet passed through his ear, whizzing.

Charging without scruples requires decisive courage!

Pictures flashed before Fedor von Bock's eyes. He was going to war. In fact, his child was just born, lying on the crib and dancing. When his calloused hands touched the other's little face, he held his child in his arms. He giggled while holding his fingers.

At that moment, he wanted to leave the battlefield.

He didn't want to join the army. Bullets would take away his responsibilities as a father.

Just as he was shrinking back, he still remembered his wife saying to him, "Do you want to leave the war to our children?"

Fedor von Bock said goodbye to his family and got into a jeep heading to the front line. His wife stood outside the house with her child in her arms and waved to him.

"We are the ones who liberated Mexico and made the country great. In the next generation, no one will bully us or insult us anymore!"

"kill!!!"

Fedor von Bock roared angrily, and slammed into an Iraqi sergeant with great force, pushing his shoulder against him, knocking him away, and stabbing the opponent's neck with his bayonet.

Before he could recover, another Iraqi soldier next to him hugged him to the ground, and the two began to struggle.

Fedor von Bock bit the opponent's ear, elbowed his throat with his right hand, pushed him to the ground and beat him.

War is never about sitting at the table and tasting fresh beef.

Instead, a group of gentlemen put aside their etiquette and integrity and engaged in the most primitive fighting!

It's also... one mother's child, traveling thousands of miles to kill another mother's child.

"Long live Mexico!"

"Long live Victor!!!"

The sky is slightly bright.

It also started to rain lightly.

It's like singing the last lament for the dead.

John Basilone's face was covered in blood, his right eye was trembling slightly, and the blood was solidified on his face. He was sitting on the stone, holding a small book in his hand, and his dark fingers pointed at the names on it.

"Luis Gonzalez."

"Here!" A soldier raised his hand.

"Otres Victor."

No one responded. John Basilone raised his head. The brothers sitting below looked at me and me, and finally lowered their heads.

He raised his head and sighed.

When John Basilone became the monitor for the first time, he was greeted by the other party. He loved to laugh and eat sweets. He was only 19 years old and he had a younger brother.

"Squad leader, this is Victor's suicide note, which was found on his body." A superior soldier stood up, holding the letter in his hand, and handed it over.

John Basilone took it with trembling hands, opened the suicide note, and looked at it. His tears couldn't stop immediately. Even a tough guy like him was trembling a little at this time.

"I have experienced the carnival of drug dealers in the slums, I have encountered the hostility of wild dogs in the trash cans, and I have stood in a cake shop, longing for a woman to buy a cake and wish me a happy birthday, but I have no mother."

"There are no prose or poems in my father's notebook, only the dates when he worked for others."

"I love sleeping so much. Then I don't have to worry about being hungry, and I can also dream about my mother, who is holding me..."

"If I die, please take my ashes back to my hometown and bury them next to my mother. Thank you. I'm sorry to trouble you, comrade. I wish you a safe journey. I love Mexico and I love Victor."

A gust of wind blew and touched John Basilone's face.

as if…

The fallen comrades were wiping the sadness from his cheeks.

War is cruel.

John Basilone wiped his tears and said, "Let's go and wipe the brothers clean. We can't let them go home like this."

Erich Manstein plays the organ in the distance.

"Erika, that's great." Fedor von Bock sat down with a smile and handed over the cigarette in his hand. Manstein hesitated a little, but the other party directly put the cigarette into his mouth, " Smoke it, there’s no such good tobacco in hell.”

"How are you? Are you feeling better?" Manstein looked at him and asked.

"You can't die." Fedor von Bock waved his hand. His right little finger was chopped off and was now wrapped casually with gauze. "It's a small wound."

"This battle is not easy to fight."

Bock smiled: "That means the Iraqis successfully attacked us. You see, the Americans will definitely come back with revenge. The Iraqi ground forces look very fierce, but the air force is still weak."

Manstein agreed with this. When they came, the combat headquarters had actually studied the battle situation.

35VS1!

1 million VS 700,000!

The advantage is mine!

It is impossible to lose no matter what. Can Iraqi tanks be used as aircraft? Can they fight reconnaissance planes and bombers thousands of meters high?

When all the troops are assembled, I will push them over to you.

Just a small loss.

"Besides, if you die on the battlefield, we'll meet you at the Tijuana National Cemetery in Mexico!"

Fedor von Bock took a drag on his cigarette and spoke very freely.

These words made Manstein slightly shaken, and then he nodded vigorously, "See you at the National Cemetery!"

Blogger smiles.

The sun rising behind them witnessed their heroic spirit.

Arifjan base in Kuwait!

More than 300,000 Allied soldiers gathered here.

Just the food consumed every day had to be transported by transport plane from Iran next door. Just eating horse chews by people gave General Norman Schwarzkopf a headache. When the war situation in the eastern part of Wavla came over, , he was even more furious.

The multinational coalition suffered more than 2,000 casualties.

Fortunately, not many American soldiers died, otherwise the pensions would not be paid.

Looking at the angry General Norman Schwarzkopf, the staff officer next to him still gave him good news, "During the war, we killed more than two thousand Iraqis and destroyed dozens of T72s, including The Mexican army performed particularly well. One of their machine gun squads repelled the attack of 1,000 Iraqis, and one of them killed 178 people!"

"The Mexican tank crew destroyed 7 T72s in five hours with one M1A1."

Norman Schwarzkopf opened his eyes and looked at him, his round little eyes a little suspicious, but this army staff officer had always been known for his rigor and would not lie.

He was immediately interested.

"Move that Mexican army over. I want to meet them and award them with honors in front of all the coalition forces. I want them to see that they should not just be gangsters all the time, but should do their best when it is time to do so!"

Norman Schwarzkopf set out to set an example.

With so many coalition forces together, there were so many fishermen, and some even lay in the dormitory without coming out. This made him very distressed, and it was difficult for his elder brother to say anything.

Now that Mexico is so powerful, let's take it out and have fun.

When the staff officer heard this order, he hesitated, "General, Victor's relations with many countries are relatively tense. I'm afraid..."

"Don't worry, can they still fight? I'm here, don't worry." Norman Schwarzkopf looked unconcerned.

The staff officer always had a feeling that something was going to happen.