181: Drinking to boost courage

The Signal Corps Operator stood quietly to the side, not daring to speak much.

It wasn't until the cigarette was almost burnt out that Norvich broke the silence.

"Request support. Our defeat is already decided, we cannot let our brothers sacrifice themselves in vain any longer, I will bear the responsibility."

"Battalion Commander..." Complex emotions flashed in the Signal Corps Operator's eyes.

Obviously, this crushing defeat was a heavy blow to Norvich.

"No, please give us one more chance, let us launch one last charge tonight, they are just ordinary people, can they really wipe us all out?"

"Shut up." Norvich suddenly raised his head, his gaze like ice, "What kind of ordinary people do you think could push us to this point? Are you trying to say the entire battalion is useless?"

Facing this questioning, the Signal Corps Operator could only lower his head, no longer speaking.

Norvich sighed heavily, his body seemingly crushed by an invisible burden, and he sat down on the cold ground with a thud, saying in a low voice, "That's enough, I cannot let you sacrifice yourselves in vain anymore."

"Immediately contact nearby friendly forces to request support." His voice carried an unquestionable firmness, "Everyone enter the highest state of alert, prepare all defenses, we absolutely cannot let the enemy exploit any opportunity."

The Signal Corps Operator's eyes were moist, his heels clicked together forcefully, and he responded loudly, "Yes, Battalion Commander."

Norvich waved his hand, signaling him to carry out the order.

At that moment, he seemed to have exhausted his last bit of strength, his voice was so hoarse it was almost inaudible, and he looked aged.

The soldiers who received the order quickly adjusted their formation, their nerves taut, vigilant for potential dangers lurking around them.

At the same time, the scouts dispatched by Norvich were closely monitoring the activity on the high ground in front of the Malixuefu Factory.

Looking through the binoculars, the tank formations rotated like flowing water, clearly setting up tight defenses.

This scene brought Norvich some relief; at least the enemy did not intend to launch a surprise attack under the cover of night.

However, a doubt also arose in his heart: the speed and number of the enemy's tank rotations seemed extraordinary, could yesterday's battle have only been a small display of their strength?

When the scouts reported these observations to Norvich, the experienced commander couldn't help but gasp.

Clearly, the enemy's true strength was still hidden in the shadows.

Just as Norvich was lost in thought, a Signal Corps Operator rushed back, panting, his face filled with panic, "Battalion Commander, there's news about the reinforcements, they are expected to arrive tomorrow afternoon."

"Understood." Norvich nodded in response, temporarily setting aside the questions in his heart.

Time flew like a white steed passing a crevice, and in the blink of an eye, night fell again.

The next morning, Norvich held binoculars, gazing towards the direction of Malyshev.

Unexpectedly, the tanks were no longer moving as frequently as they were last night, but were quietly waiting in place.

As time passed into the afternoon, Norvich's mood became increasingly anxious and restless; he anxiously waited for the long-delayed reinforcements, and the anger in his heart gradually rose.

"Damn it, they said by late afternoon at the latest? The sun is about to set now, what the hell are they doing?" he cursed.

In his eyes, it was precisely because of these unreliable people that the current passive situation had occurred.

On that battlefield shrouded in smoke and dust, a flame of impatience had already ignited in Norvich's heart.

Curses of dissatisfaction hung on his lips, and his fingers lightly tapped the edge of the command vehicle, as if each tap was urging the soldiers ahead to quicken their pace, so that this stalemate could be resolved.

However, just as he was about to give the order for the troops to tentatively advance, a Signal Corps Operator rushed into his line of sight, panting, his face filled with panic.

"Officer." The Signal Corps Operator's voice was laced with tension, "Urgent telegram from headquarters, ordering us to immediately withdraw to Hulifuka, there is an emergency situation there."

Norvich was startled, his gaze like a torch, almost melting the unfortunate person who brought the bad news before him, he roared loudly, "What did you say?"

Just when he was here eagerly awaiting the arrival of reinforcements and preparing to launch a final offensive against the enemy before him, he was told he needed to go support elsewhere?

This absurd situation made him feel dizzy.

Was it a sudden disaster, or had the entire world united against them?

First, they encountered a seemingly impregnable military fortress, requested reinforcements without success, and were instead forced to redeploy troops.

Now they learned they must rush to the aid of an insignificant small place, Hulifuka.

What kind of plan could possibly bring together so many variables here?

"This is truly cursed." Norvich cursed inwardly, but he knew complaining was useless.

He looked one last time towards the distant direction of the Malyshev Military Factory, which had once been his desired target to conquer.

Although filled with unwillingness, an order was an order, and he could only accept reality.

"Attention all, turn towards Hulifuka, move immediately." Norvich gave the heavy order.

With a loud response, the Signal Corps Operator quickly carried out the order, jogging away to relay the new instructions.

Soon, the entire unit operated like a precise machine, turning around and embarking on the new journey towards Hulifuka.

If, at this moment, Norvich had sent a brave scout to investigate the true situation at Malyshev, he might have discovered a shocking fact:

The seemingly formidable tanks were silent and motionless, as if forgotten by time.

If he had been bolder and dared to open the hatch of one of the tanks, he would have realized an even stranger situation; there was no one inside.

It turned out that Malyshev was nothing more than a bluffing trap.

With just a little extra time, a few sappers could have completed the task of destroying this empty shell of a factory, thereby securing a rare victory for Norvich.

Unfortunately, fate did not give him such an opportunity.

Returning to that night, the moon, like a silver plate, hung in the sky, casting down a cold radiance.

Xu Ning was currently standing in the center of the square, surrounded by the warriors who had participated in the battle today.

Although physically and mentally exhausted, when the pungent smell of burning entered his nostrils, his spirit was roused.

That smell, a mix of the acridness of burnt metal and the scent of death, was both unsettling and exceptionally sobering.

After night fell, everyone had a brief rest.

The members of the temporary tank squad formed during the day gathered again to reassign tasks.

Xu Ning found a bottle of vodka from the warehouse and drank it down without hesitation.

Seeing this scene, the others also followed suit, using alcohol to bolster their courage.

"Brothers." Xu Ning's voice was low and firm, "After experiencing today's fierce battle, I think everyone's hearts have changed."

As soon as his words fell, gazes from all around intertwined, and everyone's face showed unease.

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