Imperial Elite

Chapter 6 We Will All Die

Although Joe had mentally prepared himself for the brutality of the battle before entering the battlefield.

But when the battle actually broke out, Joe realized that all his previous imaginations of battle, even the most brutal ones, were nothing compared to half of the reality of fighting.

When the battle broke out, even though Joe was an engineer, at that moment, all Joe could do was the same as an ordinary infantryman: he could only hold his rifle and fire at the Teutons running towards him from a distance.

If the gray shadow continues to move after you pull the trigger, cock the gun, aim, and pull the trigger again. If the gray shadow stops moving or falls down, find the next target.

Aside from the occasional bullet whizzing past his ears, firing at the Teutons from the trenches was not much more difficult than shooting at a screen in an arcade.

If he hadn't been shot in the head by a Teutonic bullet.

Among the brats who were lying on the edge of the trench with Joe, firing their rifles wildly, two unlucky guys were thrown backwards into the trench before they could even fire a few shots.

The remaining people had no time to mourn for them. In fact, apart from those around the two unfortunate men, no one noticed that the two had fallen. Instead, they were firing their rifles wildly at the attacking Teutons.

The Teutons who launched the attack at this time were clearly much more experienced than Jo and his group of new Bunitania recruits.

They wouldn't attack straight up with bayonets, but would run with rifles in hand, crouching low, and sometimes even suddenly lie down while running to fire into the Bunitania's trenches.

Meanwhile, in the distance, Teutonic machine guns were also suppressing the trenches occupied by the Bunitans.

Wherever those "black pigs" rained down, the infantry would retreat into their trenches to avoid their onslaught, while the experienced Teutonic infantry would seize the opportunity to advance a considerable distance, further exacerbating the already weak defenses of the Bunitania Expeditionary Force.

Soon the Teutons came within Joe's reach, close enough that he could see their faces clearly.

At this distance, there's not much to say; just follow the instructions in the Field Regulations and throw grenades at the Teutons.

However, judging from the actions of the Teutons lying on the ground, their rules and experience also reflect this.

So in July of 1916, Joe, in a trench near Montauban, thought the weather was terrible. There was moderate to large-scale artillery fire in the area, with occasional grenades. He needed to be careful to avoid being hit by bullets, lest he have to start over.

After a less-than-friendly exchange of grenades, the Teutons successfully created chaos in the trenches.

In the chaos, Joe noticed a particularly tall man among the Teutons who seemed to be giving orders. Joe instinctively raised his rifle, intending to aim at the man, but the man disappeared from Joe's sight amidst the chaos caused by the grenade rain.

Taking advantage of the chaos caused by the grenades, the Teutons rushed into the trenches.

When he realized that it was inevitable that the Teutons would rush into the trenches, Joe did not draw his bayonet and attach it to his rifle as the officers around him were shouting.

Instead, he put down his rifle, grabbed the entrenching tool beside him, and drew his pistol from his waist.

According to Joe's good friend, compared to bayonets, entrenching tools are the king of hand-to-hand combat in trench warfare, and only a fool would engage in hand-to-hand combat if he could use a pistol.

As the Teutons jumped into the trench, Joe, who immediately pulled the trigger on them, felt that his friend was right.

At a distance where you can almost smell the stench of sweat from the Teutons who probably haven't bathed in a while, and see their yellow teeth as they roar, a pistol is indeed very effective.

After clearing out the Teutons around him who were trying to jump into the trench with a rapid-fire volley, Joe put his entrenching tool under his arm and, while backing away, shouted, "Reload! Cover me!" He then opened the revolver's cylinder, emptied the hot cartridge cases, and took bullets from his pocket to begin loading.

Upon hearing Joe's shout, the three brats around him who hadn't immediately engaged the enemy because of Joe's rapid-fire immediately met the second wave of Teutons jumping into the trenches.

Then these rascals immediately found themselves in a fierce battle. Clearly, these rascals, who were mostly learning how to use shovels and explosives, were no match for these Teutons in the specialized skill of bayonet fighting, and were at a disadvantage in just one exchange.

Seeing that these brats were about to give out, Joe, who had only loaded four bullets into the magazine, immediately closed it, raised his pistol, took a quick aim, and pulled the trigger on a Teutonist who was suppressing one of the brats.

"Ping!" With a gunshot, a Teutonic's head exploded.

However, before Joe could even aim at the next Teuton, he caught a glimpse of a cold light piercing towards him from the left.

Qiao swung his entrenching tool and slapped at the cold light.

With a crisp "ding!", Joe felt as if his entrenching tool had struck a speeding train, and the vibration from the tool made his arm go numb.

Turning his head, Joe saw that the man who had just swung his bayonet at him was a Teutonic strongman about two meters tall. The rifles that looked like spears when attached to bayonets in the hands of other Teutons were like toys in his hands, making the Teutonic strongman look like a child who had been snatched a toy from his hands.

But when the burly man holding the rifle glared angrily at Joe, the comical scene, reminiscent of Lu Bu riding a dog, didn't make Joe laugh.

After Joe blocked the bayonet thrust, the burly man did not retract his thrusting rifle, but instead swung the butt of the rifle and smashed it directly into Joe's face.

Joe jerked back, narrowly avoiding the rifle butt the burly man hurled at him, only to be kicked in the stomach by the same man, sending him flying backward like a cannonball against the trench wall.

Before Joe could recover from the dizziness caused by the impact, which was shooting through his chest and back, the burly man swung his rifle and pinned Joe to the trench wall as if he were about to use a toothpick to pierce fruit.

However, the next second, the burly Teutonic man suddenly jolted, his expression instantly shifting from anger to blankness, and he leaned forward uncontrollably, the rifle slipping from his hand.

Although he didn't know what had happened, Joe immediately raised his pistol and shot the burly man in the head when he saw him fall.

As a cloud of blood exploded from the burly man's head, and he fell to the ground, Joe saw the brat who had taken his pounds the night before and given up his bed standing behind the burly man, looking at him.

A smug glint flashed in the brat's eyes, as if to say, "Boss, how did I do?"

Judging from the blood dripping from his bayonet, it's not hard to guess why that burly man had just fallen.

Looking at Joe sitting on the ground, the brat seemed to want to say something.

Before he could even speak, the brat, just like the Teutonic strongman before him, suddenly stiffened and slowly fell forward to the ground with a pained and confused expression on his face. Behind him, a Teutonic soldier with a face full of shock and anger stood there holding a rifle.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still or slow down many times over. Shocked, Joe could clearly see how the Teutonic soldier pulled his bayonet from the brat, and how the brat who had just saved his life fell to the ground. This shock was quickly replaced by rage. As the Teutonic soldier roared and charged at Joe, Joe raised his pistol and fired repeatedly at the Teutonic soldier with the fastest speed he had ever used.

With three gunshots and the Teutonic soldier falling, Joe heard a short whistle outside the trench, and it sounded like a signal flare being fired.

As the whistle blew, the remaining Teutonic soldiers in the trenches abandoned their opponents, turned around, and climbed up the trenches to leave.

Seeing that the Teutons were trying to leave, the Bunitaians, who had been fighting fiercely in the trenches, climbed up and began firing their rifles at the retreating Teutons.

However, at that moment, the Teutonic machine guns in the distance suddenly opened fire, instantly mowing down a group of the Bunitania who were firing.

"hidden!"

Just as Joe rushed to the side of the brat who had saved his life to check on him, only to find himself unable to do anything, he ignored the excruciating pain in his body, stood up, and reached out to pull a nearby infantryman who was still firing back into the trench.

"hidden!"

After shouting again and realizing that his shouts weren't having much effect, Joe immediately put the whistle hanging around his neck into his mouth and blew it hard.

As the "beep-beep" sound rang out, the soldiers who were still firing finally retreated back into their trenches.

When the last soldier in Joe's sight returned to the trench, Joe looked at the trench piled with corpses, and the soldiers in the trench who were disheveled, covered in mud, blood and black gunpowder smoke.

Joe was horrified to discover that, apart from himself, there seemed to be no one else in the trench with stripes on their sleeves; the sergeants and officers who had been in charge of commanding these infantrymen were nowhere to be found.

Although he was panicking, Joe still managed to maintain a calm demeanor and quickly surveyed the short trench.

Then Joe received bad news and even worse news.

The bad news is that after that round of hand-to-hand combat, the fully equipped infantry company that entered the trench with Joe's squad now has only about thirty men left.

Of the officers and sergeants in that company, only one lieutenant, who had been shot in the leg and was now panting with the help of sandbags, was still alive, his face pale and unable to speak.

Joe's engineering squad wasn't in much better shape. Including John, who joined yesterday, less than half of those bastards were still standing.

Even worse news was that whistles were constantly sounding and signal flares were being launched from the trenches where the Teutons were returning.

If nothing unexpected happens, this is the Teutons preparing for another attack immediately after their previous attack failed.

Clearly, at this moment, Joe knew that if he couldn't withstand the Teutonic offensive, his best outcome would be to wait for a ceasefire in a prisoner-of-war camp, and his worst outcome would be to have the opportunity to travel through time again.

Considering that even if he could time travel again, he might still be conscripted by the weasels, Qiao felt that he could still struggle a little longer compared to being conscripted by the weasels.

Damn it, after this war is over, I'll go back to my hometown and become a capitalist. I've already done my best for the king, haven't I? Even if someone gives me a ton of white feathers, they won't let me go back to this godforsaken place.

I recalled the little story my old friend told me in my dream last night about how he organized the remaining troops to hold the position.

Joe felt that although he and his old friend were somewhat different, the enemies they faced were also different. So, rounding it off, if his old friend could do it, why couldn't he, Joe, do it too?
In this situation, we're doomed either way, so we might as well take a gamble.

Joe pulled out the shiny Medal of Distinguished Conduct he had just received the night before from his jacket pocket, pinned it to his chest, and then blew the whistle to signal assembly.

Although Joe began to regret it as soon as he blew the whistle, and was even terrified of what was bound to happen next.

But when the remaining soldiers in the trench approached Joe, he controlled his expression, keeping a straight face so that his inner thoughts were not revealed.

However, Joe, who was doing this for the first time, was obviously overdoing it. Joe wanted to make sure that his expression did not show fear or anxiety.

But after he put on a stern face, the soldiers who rushed over at the sound of the whistle saw a corporal with a gloomy face and a serious expression. He had a high-ranking medal on his chest that he had only seen in newspapers, and he was carrying an entrenching tool in one hand and a revolver in the other. He looked like a heroic figure who had stepped out of an oil painting.

Joe's expression and the medal on his chest unconsciously instilled a sense of trust in these soldiers who were somewhat shaken by the recent battle and the losses they had suffered.

The soldiers unconsciously shut their mouths, quietly preparing to listen to what Joe was about to say.

As for the few remaining brats under Joe, they were somewhat surprised that Joe had obtained such a medal.

However, they did not ask when Joe had received the medal; they simply waited with the infantry for Joe to give the order.

No one could see the growing fear hidden beneath Joe's tense expression and "resolute" face.

As more and more soldiers approached Joe, his unease began to overwhelm him like a tidal wave.

In order to control his expression, Joe's face became even more "resolute".

As everyone crowded into the trench in front of Joe, he looked at their tired faces, which revealed a hint of numbness.

Joe felt his mind go blank; all the words he had just thought of had vanished like dewdrops in the sunlight.

Joe opened his mouth, only to find that he seemed to have lost his speech and could not say anything.

This made Qiao even more apprehensive, and his expression became even more "resolute".

After taking a deep breath, Joe, whose mind was blank, finally spoke.

"We will all die."

(End of this chapter)