Steel Soviet Union

"Forward! Charge forward, comrades! We are only one step away! For victory!!!"

Countless days and nights of arduous fighting just for this moment.

Following Alsim's orders, he led all the remaining comrades who could still move, fighting and rushing along the way, cleaning up all the Nazi fanatics who dared to block the way. Sulovechenko and his party finally broke through all the enemies in the building. Resisted and rushed to the roof.

But on top of the dome of the Capitol Building, there is still a last group of extremely vicious evil spirits fighting to the death.

Chi la la la la——

Da da da da——

The fire line erected on the final line of defense on the roof of the Capitol once again blocked the way. Sulovechenko, who had no intention of fighting with these bastards, continued to remain calm and composed. After crouching in the open-air roof bunker, he had already thought of it. Countermeasures.

"Get on the bazooka! Blow it up!"

"It's all gone, not a single round of spare ammunition is left! Even the second officer, the one he just rushed up to was the last round!"

"What about the grenades!? Do you still have the grenades!?"

"It's all gone. Those rooms and corridors were blown up almost all the way up."

"Suka BuLei!"

The scolding Sulovchenko actually didn't blame the fighters.

In the combat environment that I had personally experienced just now, it can only be said that if one less grenade is used, two or three lives may have to be paid, and maybe even more.

In that kind of adrenaline-fueled battle where even half a second would lead to death, there was no time or thought to care about the use of ammunition. "Never mind the three-seven-twenty-one, blow it up first" was the most real situation at that time. .

Combat engineers who have always been accustomed to fighting "firepower first" battles have never encountered the dilemma of using up all the flying explosives thrown, but at this time, they really can't do without this thing.

Sulovechenko really couldn't order the soldiers to attack. They had already come to this point. Comparing their feelings, who wants to see his comrades stained with blood on the battlefield at the last second before the dawn of victory? He fell under the gun of the Nazis' desperate struggle and was buried with him.

"Company officer, we still have this, but the distance is not enough!"

""

Looking at the engineer explosives the size of bricks in the hands of the platoon leader next to him, Sulovechenko hesitated at this moment.

The weight of this thing determines that it is not something that can be thrown on top of the Nazi's head at the current distance and put all the Nazi lunatics on the opposite side into the killing radius.

If you want this thing to be effective, you must advance and shorten the throwing distance. The best way is to cover the blaster and charge forward.

To be honest, this is one of the jobs of combat engineers. Various forms of explosive blasting are inherently unique skills for combat engineers.

But whoever's name is called now means that whoever is likely to be killed on the spot. The casualty rate of the demolitioners holding explosives and rushing forward against the enemy's firepower is high enough to make machine gunners, anti-tank gun crews, etc. It pales in comparison to many high-risk occupations.

Whoever's name is called will die. This is almost a death-like privilege, but it has become the most real situation Sulovechenko is facing now.

For a moment, Sulovechenko had the idea of ​​doing it himself.

But before Sulovchenko could turn his thoughts into practical actions, the old squad leader who was beside Sulovchenko on the other side threw the object in his hand away and threw it into Sulovchenko. In Lovichenko's arms, he snatched the explosive from the platoon leader's hand and ducked out without saying a word.

"Tomorrow is beautiful, but it does not belong to us. It belongs to you young people. You are the generation full of vigor and hope."

"I am old, and I have watched my three children grow up with my own eyes. I have also joined the most heroic group of the Red Army and fought all the way to this day. I am satisfied."

"If one day, I die. Just help me send this letter back. If it can be stained with less blood, then it will be less. The old worker's self-taught handwriting is not good and crooked. If it is stained with blood, The dolls can’t understand it anymore.”

"Be loyal to the motherland, protect my mother, protect the mother of my children, so that my daughter can become a mother in a better future. I think this is the destiny of our generation."

"I am really satisfied to be able to do all this. I love my motherland as much as she loves me."

The words of the old squad leader flashed through my mind like lightning in an instant. They were memories of the future from the suburbs of Berlin not long ago. Sulovechenko's roar came out without thinking.

"cover!!!"

The dense rain of bullets rushed straight into the enemy's crazy barrage. The soldiers relied on the bunker, raised their weapons, and pressed the trigger to the end. They tried their best to cover their comrades, and they picked up the cover without hesitation. The old squad leader was running wildly with explosives.

The evil eyes stared at the old but vigorous figure, and regardless of the firepower, the bullets from the muzzle were fired and screamed instantly.

Pop——

A series of submachine gun fires streaked across the body, and the spray of blood and sparks from the bullets hitting the steel plate came out. The old squad leader who had never stopped staggered to the ground, only a few steps away from the next bunker he was about to arrive. So close.

"Fuck them! These damn crazy beasts!!!"

"No, don't move! Look!"

The old squad leader, who had fallen to the ground, raised his head again under the gaze of the comrades behind him. The heroic perseverance in the harmony between the two released seemingly endless power. I don't know when the engineer had pulled the fuse. The explosive was finally thrown away.

Boom——

The huge explosion flames and the shock wave swallowed up everything in an instant. The old squad leader could no longer be found among the flying dust and debris. Sulovechenko, whose eyes were splitting from his vision, almost roared and shouted the order that would be recorded in history.

"Flag Guard! Charge!!!"

"Ula!!!"

The red flag, engraved with incomparable glory in the name of victory, fluttered in the wind with the cry of charge.

Red Army soldiers wearing plate armor and holding AKs rushed out of the bunker, and their deafening shouts echoed above the dome of the Capitol and resounded throughout the sky.

The raging fury of revenge and the fiery rain of bullets instantly took away the lives of those naughty dogs who were still trying to struggle to get up.

Sulovechenko, who completely broke through the enemy's final defense line in one go, strode forward and almost cried with joy, said those heartfelt exciting words.

"Keep this thing for yourself, old guy! Stand up and complete the task!"

The blood-stained envelope was stuffed back into the lapel of the old squad leader's clothes. He dragged the old squad leader's arm and lifted it from the ground. Together with another soldier who took the initiative to step forward, he stood on the left and right, and raised his legs together. The old squad leader, who was shot several times but saved his life because of the plate armor body armor, was just smiling warmly at this moment.

"We did it, really did it."

"Well! Victory belongs to us!"

He reached out and took the victory flag pole from the flag guard, held it up to the sky, held it tightly in his hand, and carried the old squad leader forward to the final end of the road from Moscow to Berlin, the triangular vault on the roof of the Reichstag Building. Stand still on the edge.

"Come on, take it easy! Carve the leader's name on this day and night!"

He steadily took the flagpole handed over from Sulovchenko, looked up at the victory flag fluttering in the wind like blood flowing, including the eyes of the old squad leader, Sulovchenko, and all the comrades present. All eyes are focused on this moment.

"Victory belongs to us! Long live the Red Army! Long live the motherland! Ula!!!"

"Ula!!!"

boom--

The sound of the flagpole falling steadily to the ground indicated that the most brutal and bloody land war in human history had come to an end.

This steady sound of landing belongs to the Red Army! Belong to the proletarian revolutionaries! Belongs to all the anti-Fascist fighters around the world who heroically sacrificed their lives and shed blood!

No matter where tomorrow will lead, where the future of mankind will go and how it will be written, history will eventually remember this moment no matter how time passes.

Because as long as we remember, they are still alive.