If the war has been almost forgotten in this world, the most tragic war area is near Moscow.

The German advancement speed was slowed down here, but the Soviet casualties were also increasing exponentially.

If only 1,000 people were killed in a day, everyone would think that this day was not fierce.

Chris, his comrade-in-arms father and the antenna, fought in such an environment and lived tenaciously.

The good news is that General Guderian's armored troops have arrived near Ryazan and Moscow has been completely surrounded by three sides.

If the area blocked by artillery is included, the Soviet army will have to pay a heavy price to reinforce or retreat from the Moscow area.

The three of them were sitting together in a group and enjoying a sumptuous lunch. For them, they hadn't had such a delicious lunch for a long time.

They occupied a Soviet-controlled area and found that there were some food stored here, many potatoes and some vegetables.

Of course, these things are not enough, so they opened the cans they had treasured for a long time and poured out the oil, water and starch and meat inside.

This was definitely a rare meal, because an infantry company had already arrived in front of them and occupied a position, so they could eat their own food with confidence.

And the price they have to pay is that they have to give the infantry company some potatoes, and they are obviously willing to do so.

After all, having a delicious meal at this time will be very helpful for their next battle.

"Taste! Although the canned food doesn't taste very good, I still think it's delicious." Cirric was so moved that he was almost crying while eating his canned food.

The mixed cooked vegetable leaves and potatoes are simply the best in the world! Just eat a bite of hot meal, it will be paradise for the frontline soldiers.

"Huh! We may not have cooked hot food for 3 days." Dad Buck also looked satisfied.

When they fought, they would live by consuming compressed military rations, and the thing was as dry and hard as stones.

In addition to being able to satisfy your hunger, things like compressed biscuits are simply no different from garbage. They either have no taste or are so salty that they are disgusting.

"I heard that after we come to Moscow, we can go back to the second line to rest. At that time, we will have hot meals every day and take a shower." Dad looked at Cirick, who was still bandaged on his arm, and Chris, who could no longer see the injury.

Chris didn't say anything, and took out a large piece of potatoes and vegetable leaves from the cooking pot left by the Soviets. He didn't care whether it was hot or not, and stuffed it into his mouth.

Now, Cialick and his father stopped talking. They found that Chris ate the most and took advantage of them while they were talking.

The three of them just swallowed it, ignoring the corpse of a Soviet soldier not far away.

There was a hole in the head of the Soviet soldier, which was penetrated by Chris with one shot. They were able to occupy the place intact thanks to this shot.

Obviously, this Soviet soldier planned to die with the Germans who rushed up, and it can be seen from the two grenades rolling down beside the corpse.

"Slow down! Eat slowly! Cook a pot again if you can't." Looking at the potato sacks piled up at the corner of the wall, my father couldn't help it and persuaded him.

But Chris and Cialick remained unyielding and continued to swallow the food in the pot. On the one hand, they were hungry, but on the other hand, they had developed a habit long ago.

No one spent half an hour on the battlefield to have dinner because it was too extravagant. No one knew when the enemy's counterattack began, and no one knew when the shells would fall.

Halfway through the meal, the enemy launched a counterattack, and the remaining food would not be eaten, so they could only throw away the food.

What's even more annoying is that when the food is halfway through, the enemy begins to bombard the dust raised by the cannons can immediately destroy the food, which makes people laugh and cry.

Therefore, as long as people who have been on the battlefield will develop the good habit of eating at the fastest speed. Of course, chatting while eating is also one of the good habits.

It’s a rare time to have a leisure time. If you don’t take it out and make fun of it, how can you be worthy of such a luxurious lunch?

When the things in the cooking pot disappeared and the spoon could touch the bottom of the pot, my father poured the potatoes cut with a bayonet into the pot.

Chris didn't say nonsense and took out his own block of alcohol. He used the fuel his father carried with him just now, and now it's time to use his.

Cialek also cooperated very well and threw the leaves of the vegetable that had been simply washed with the water from the kettle into the pot.

Pour some water and sprinkle some salt, and everyone started to wait again. At this time, everyone is happy, waiting happily for the arrival of a beautiful moment.

"Tutu!Tutu!" In the distance, the unique sound of the mg-42 machine gun began to roar, not where they were, but where they were.

This shows that a fierce fight has begun again, and some people are about to die in these ruins before they have time to have this lunch.

Cialick looked at the tumbling cooking pot in front of him, and looked at the food that became sticky inside, and had no intention of caring about the battles in the distance.

"Are these Soviets crazy? At this time, start fighting back?" Chris, who looked at the sky outside the window and swallowed the last bit of food in his mouth, was finally willing to speak.

The father beside him rolled his eyes in anger. He had grabbed the pot of food just now at least: "You are talking now? You are responsible for writing the report in the afternoon."

Chris smiled and showed a mouthful of white teeth. There was also a vegetable leaf hanging on it, showing how fierce he had just eaten.

A long distance away, German artillery joined the battlefield performance, and raindrop-like shells fell down, intertwining into a mourning song.

"The 150mm caliber artillery... It seems that it is the train gun position to rest today." Hearing the familiar trajectory roar and the thick sound of the explosion, Cialek easily distinguished the caliber of his gun.

If he listened carefully, he could even hear the number of fire cannons. This was his hobby and the hobby of many soldiers.

But now he didn't have time to tell the sound of these cannons because the food in the pot was about to be ready.
Chapter completed!