Chapter 18 The Sand-Made Defense Line

Thirty minutes later, landing crafts rushed onto the beach.

"Prepare!" a Naval driver shouted as he frantically turned the wheel to lower the landing craft's gate.

Although Aromeyev was a veteran, he still tensed up.

Involuntarily, the worst-case scenario flooded his mind: the moment the gate opened, the enemy's machine gun fire would sweep across, killing everyone on board the landing craft.

The thought was so vivid it felt as though it had actually happened.

At that moment, the Naval helmsman started blowing his whistle.

It meant that the landing craft's gate was fully lowered.

Aromeyev's surrounding soldiers roared together, "Hurrah!"

Wrapped up in the momentum with Aromeyev, they charged down the landing craft and quickly dispersed, everything going as smoothly as in training—

Aromeyev couldn't help but wonder, "Where's the enemy's beachhead firepower?"