Chapter 894: Outdated People

Many people have faith. Relying on a firm belief can make a warrior fight to the death without fear. If, in the 21st century, some soldiers in the Middle East can challenge a high-tech army armed to the teeth with just their faith, then in 1939, there were also people who could fight a powerful opponent with their own beliefs.

There are many who have no faith. They do not believe that some people can hold their heads high in the face of an enemy’s bayonet, do not believe that some people can endure severe torture without revealing a single piece of information that is not even a secret. These people cannot understand that kind of persistence, thinking that only an idiot would do such a thing.

And so, in today’s movie scenes, to raise one’s weapon in the face of a thousand enemy troops, to laugh defiantly in the face of the enemy’s whips and branding irons, to wait for the enemy with fixed bayonets to get close before pulling the pin on the grenade in one’s arms—these scenes have become a symbol, used countless times to test the audience’s tolerance.

Rein had once had faith. His former faith was himself. He felt he could rely on himself to survive. In this dangerous world, apart from himself and the weapon in his hand, he had no other faith.

But recently, he had found himself beginning to rely on his other comrades. This was a very dangerous sign. At least, in the depths of his heart, he felt this was a very dangerous beginning. He was no longer a lonely ghost, but a living, breathing person.

He trusted his gunner, Andre, because this trustworthy fellow could complete all sorts of incredible shots, destroying those dangerous enemy tanks. He trusted his driver, Baumann. The last time, his skillful driving of their tank had allowed them to complete an impossible mission.

He also trusted that small and somewhat violent female radio operator, Alice. The channels she tuned were clear and free of interference, making his ears more and more delicate. Of course, he also liked that loader named Bruce. Although he was as garrulous as Markus, he was a very honest and good person.

Of course, besides these people, he was also increasingly beginning to trust the Tiger tank they had been driving for so long. After all, when you use something for a long, long time, you will always develop some feelings of attachment. To be able to accompany five people for a year on such a brutal battlefield was enough to prove that the Tiger tank had been an absolutely successful design.

But when they had abandoned that Tiger tank and had been specifically named to receive another, even more powerful tank, Rein found that his faith was somewhat shaken. Undoubtedly, that more powerful King Tiger tank was indeed a classic, epoch-making work. But Rein did not feel any of the joy that should have come with the upgrade of his vehicle.

Bruce and the others were waiting on the train platform. It wouldn’t be long before they would receive their new King Tiger tank. So Bruce was a little excited at this moment. He chattered to Andre at his side, “You’re sitting, so you can’t feel it, that spacious feeling. It makes my loading speed more than a little faster.”

Andre was also very happy. He felt that the auxiliary aiming system was simply invincible. That thing allowed him to lock onto his target within a few seconds of stopping the tank and to easily penetrate the enemy’s armor. This was something that had been very difficult to do before. At the very least, he had to perform very well to be able to do it.

As for Baumann, he was not so happy. Because of the change in the tank’s chassis, his driving habits had to be changed somewhat, so he didn’t say anything, just kept fiddling with his hands, simulating the feeling of operating a tank. But it could be seen that he truly liked driving this new tank, otherwise he wouldn’t be acting like this.

Alice showed no change at all. She just stood by Rein’s side, as calm as ever. One would never have guessed that she was the kind of girl who could strafe and shatter the enemy infantry in front of her with a machine gun. But after such a long time on the front line, her original look of resentment and romance was gone, replaced by an aura that said “stay away” from a long way off.

The new tank was good in every way. It had a more advanced and accurate aiming system, a more spacious interior and ammunition storage, a powerful engine and a formidable cannon, and its armor was so thick it would make the enemy despair. Now, almost no one could threaten the King Tiger. On the battlefield, it was almost an invincible existence.

Thinking of this, Rein suddenly felt that he had found the reason for his unhappiness. And so he gave a bitter smile and let himself relax a little. Yes, he had thought of the reason. That reason was that a killing machine like him, who had been cultivated through special means, had less and less room to play on the battlefield.

Or, to put it another way—the current war had less and less need for an existence like his, for individual martial prowess. No matter how skilled he was at fighting, no matter how cold-blooded he was, he could not make up for the gap in weapons and equipment, nor could he catch up with the changes in the way of fighting. While he was practicing shooting and killing without blinking an eye, Germany’s massive military-industrial complex had already produced an impenetrable steel behemoth.

What an ironic scene: a man had painstakingly cultivated his killing skills for several years, had traded for a cold heart by degenerating into a demon, yet he could not face the tanks that were rolling out of the factories one after another. The times had changed, changed to the point where Rein felt unfamiliar and afraid.

He was afraid that if things continued to develop like this, there would come a day when the Führer, Akado, would no longer need a warrior like him. At that time, technology would have advanced to the point where it could replace the warrior. People would not even need to go to the battlefield; they could remotely control tanks and planes to fight from thousands of kilometers away.

No matter how swift one’s movements, they could not match the faster and more agile fully automatic weapons. A soldier with night vision goggles and an automatic weapon could kill from a hundred meters away at dusk. At that time, the demons cultivated in the Wolf Knight Academy would not even be a match for a university student holding a fighter jet remote control.

If it really comes to that, will I just be a butcher? Rein thought to himself with some dejection. He had always thought he was a warrior, a powerful warrior. But now he found that it wouldn’t be long before any new recruit could do the things he could do for the Führer.

Just as his thoughts were running wild, a military train slowly pulled into the station. The locomotive’s engine spewed white smoke and slowly came to a stop by the temporary platform where Rein and the others were. Behind the train, besides two armored train cars, there were also several cars filled with Waffen-SS soldiers.

It seemed that the journey from Germany to Poland, then from Poland to Ukraine, and then through Donetsk to this small station, was a long and not-so-safe one—not only did they have to use SS soldiers for escort, but they had also added two armored train cars with turrets.

Those two armored train cars had Panther tank turrets on them. Besides the 75mm infantry guns on the sides, there were a dozen or so machine guns sticking out like a porcupine. Calculated by the firepower of the partisans, just these two train cars alone would be enough to easily take out over a thousand of them.

On the flatcars behind, King Tiger tanks were parked. Some of these tanks were replacements for the 502nd Heavy Panzerjäger Battalion, and some were replacements for the Wehrmacht’s 1st Panzer Division of the 1st Panzer Corps.

Because of the large-scale adoption of more advanced mechanical automation in production, the annual output of the King Tiger tank had rapidly expanded, and in a horizontal comparison, had already surpassed the Tiger. Therefore, the production of the Tiger tank had recently been compressed, and Germany’s tank production capacity was being fully concentrated on the more excellent King Tiger. This was great news for the German army, because it meant that the King Tiger would be equipped to the frontline troops faster and in greater numbers.

The sky was overcast, and a light rain was falling. Rein, because of his rank, was standing on a simple, covered field platform. The tanker trucks that were refueling and many of the technicians were standing in the rain, making the whole small station look extremely busy.

As the train came to a steady stop, everyone scrambled to pull the tarps off the train cars. One after another, brand-new Tiger tanks were presented before everyone’s eyes. These tanks had all been painted with a summer camouflage pattern, which was a clear difference from the vehicles that had used up their white paint and had participated in the winter war.

Arriving with the train were also some newly trained King Tiger tank repair technicians, and of course, a good number of armored force replacement new recruits who had arrived with the train. These men began to look for their own units according to the assignment forms. With the cranes and tow trucks unloading the tanks one by one, the scene became even more chaotic.

“Captain Rein,” an officer in charge of receiving the supplies on the platform said with a smile, standing behind Rein’s crew. After greeting them, he waved the notebook in his hand and asked, “Brand-new King Tiger tanks. I believe you’ve already test-driven them. You have the highest rank, so you can pick one first.”

Rein looked at the King Tiger tanks that were being unloaded from the train one by one. Under the gazes of Alice, Andre, and the others, he extended his arm and casually pointed into the distance with his index finger. He said with some listlessness, “I hear they’re all produced on an automatic production line, so what’s there to pick? They’re all the same, aren’t they?”

“Alright, Captain Rein. I’ve noted the tank you want. I’ll have someone paint your tank number on it for you,” the officer said, following Rein’s arm with his gaze. He then nodded and walked in the direction of that tank with his hands behind his back. “That tank! Yes, that’s the one! Be careful when you’re unloading it! Sergeant Sparrow, make a note of that tank’s production number and distinguish it from the others. This tank is for Captain Rein, unit number 113… don’t mess it up!”

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