Chapter 55: Fleeing for Life

Whoosh... Boom!

The sudden flash interrupted Lin's contemplation, which had risen to the national level. This bright yellow glow wasn't from the annoying illumination flares. In fact, the explosion from the just-landed shell was only six or seven meters away from the rear of the truck. Any small piece of shrapnel could have taken the life of anyone inside the carriage. Lin, coming back to his senses, felt a wave of fear. He thought to himself, "Gosh, the Soviets sure have plenty of shells to spare. With such a large number, even improbable events become inevitable!"

Lin's relief was short-lived. Another shell fell, this time even closer to the truck. Shrapnel struck the carriage's side panels, tearing through the canvas supported by steel frames, causing it to flap and rustle with the rush of air.

This was no coincidence, Lin realized in alarm. Glancing towards the distance, he saw flashes of fire coming from the direction of the pine forest.

"Uh oh!"

As the shining illumination flare slowly faded, aided by the faint light from the last few twinkling stars, Lin saw several shadowy figures at the end of the road. Though their outlines and speed were difficult to discern, the prestigious reputation of the BT series immediately sprang to Lin's mind. He knew that no ordinary tank of that era could catch up with these two speeding trucks, and the Soviet BT series fast tanks were far from ordinary. Take the ultimate model, the BT-7M, for example, with a top highway speed exceeding 85 kilometers per hour, surpassing not only any German tank but even most ordinary cars of the era.

Even if those shadows were just regular T-34 or T-70 light tanks, their highway speeds were nothing to scoff at compared to a transport truck. Suddenly, Lin saw flickers of fire leaping from the shadows. Having spent more than seventy hours in combat over the past few days, Lin easily recognized those as cannon fires. Instantly, shells whistled through the air with short, sharp notes. As the nearby shells exploded, spraying terrifying fragments, Lin and his comrades huddled in the truck, fearing the same fate as their unfortunate companion.

The sharp fragments mixed with mud struck the side panels of the carriage, creating nerve-wracking clatters.

"Damn it, go faster! Faster!"

Though God likely didn't understand Chinese, Lin kept praying fervently in his mind. Pursued by the enemy's direct fire, it seemed the truck was already at its maximum speed. The heavy roar of the engine reminded Lin of a Formula 1 race.

If this were a fair race, with both trucks' speeds and the width of the battlefield as the measure, the German soldiers could easily reach the edge of the birch forest and abandon the trucks before the pursuers caught up. However, the pursuers' artillery completely disrupted the traditional rules of the race. Even if the trucks were replaced with Ferrari race cars, they couldn't possibly outrun the shells!

As the saying goes, trouble comes when least expected. Taking advantage of the intermittent light provided by the illumination flares, the enemy's artillery maintained deadly accuracy. To evade the shells falling ahead on the road, the driver had to swerve the truck irregularly, risking several near flips with each mad turn. However, what ultimately caused the first truck to withdraw from the race was not the driver's skill but the shells. Lin, sitting in the second truck's rear, didn't witness the entire incident. When their truck suddenly braked and stopped on the roadside, Lin only saw the first truck slanted in a nearby field, with smoke rising from a shell crater nearby. The truck's windshield shattered, and its engine hood and doors were twisted and deformed. Fortunately, the driver's cabin absorbed most of the impact, sparing the ten or so German soldiers inside. Seeing the other truck stopping to rescue them, most of them dashed towards it in panic. Two "Night Warriors" barely opened the doors, snatched a large box and an assault rifle with an infrared sight from a bloodied soldier, then hurriedly ran over.

The tall officer—the direct commander of this raid—... 

Lin was stunned, and all his previous dissatisfaction and grievances suddenly vanished.

As a German soldier with the limitations of his time, he had already fulfilled his duty, and the rest of the journey could only be taken by the living.

"Eil! Eil!" (German: Faster! Faster!)

A burly "grunt" shouted urgently against the tailgate, and it was obvious that the Soviet pursuers behind had noticed the two trucks carrying German soldiers stopping successively. Their fired shells seemed to have eyes, each shot more accurate than the last, giving everyone on and off the trucks a strong sense of imminent danger. In such a rush, the driver didn't wait for everyone to get on board; instead, he immediately stepped on the gas pedal. The "night fighters" chasing from behind ran for their lives, while the soldiers in the rear of the truck stretched out their hands desperately to pull them in. Although the acceleration of the truck was not fast, the muddy ground beside the road seriously affected the running speed of the German soldiers. One "night fighter" saw that it was difficult to catch up with the truck and simply threw up the square box along with the assault rifle with all his strength.

Feeling that a tragic scene was about to repeat itself, Lin couldn't bear to watch anymore, so he turned his head toward the inside of the truck. But after a moment, the soldiers beside him pushed hard against him, and there were cheers around. He quickly turned back, and the last two "night fighters" fell headlong into the truck—apparently, the speed at this moment had exceeded that of an adult's sprint, and these two lucky ones managed to catch their "last ride".

Although the truck returned to the road and sped up, it was still too early to say they had escaped danger. As another flare burst in the sky, the shells fired from behind became more accurate again, and as they whizzed past from a very close distance, the sharp sound was like scraping a porcelain plate with an iron spoon, making everyone in the crowded truck shiver.

With just one shell, the remaining twenty or so German soldiers who survived this raid would all be wiped out. So, except for the seriously wounded or unconscious, everyone else was praying fervently.

Before long, the truck was caught in a continuous and violent jolt. The shaking of the truck made Lin and the others feel like they were on a trampoline, with their buttocks hitting the hard floor heavily, feeling like their pelvic bones were about to crack, and this extreme state of distress lasted for three or four minutes. During this time, Lin and everyone else gritted their teeth and said nothing, and the pursuing Soviet forces seemed to realize the change in the situation, and the intensity of their artillery fire instantly increased by a level. But they were destined to only cheer for this thrilling chase, and the suffering of the German soldiers finally came to an end.

After the truck stopped, the soldiers in the cab shouted and banged hard on the partition between the cab and the cargo area, while the soldiers at the rear of the truck quickly opened the tailgate and jumped out of the truck. Lin also knew that they had finally returned to the "charming" edge of the birch forest.

Considering the small possibility of the Soviet army adjusting its frontline deployment in the short term, Lin felt that this perilous journey had already been completed ninety-five percent. The remaining five percent, if it was just a test of physical strength, would be fine, but he feared that there might be some unexpected events along the way. With the injuries of the remaining twenty or so soldiers and the dwindling ammunition, they were really not up for another fight!