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We're being focused on!

I told you the Iraqi people would come.

Without needing to be told, the soldiers of the 2nd battalion swiftly took their designated positions.

After the artillery fire passed, a roar resonated from afar like the outcry of a monstrous wave.

If someone were looking down from the sky at that moment, they would see hundreds of T72 tanks charging over, flanked by countless infantry on both sides.

"Kill them all! Long live Saddam! Long live Iraq!! Victory belongs to us!"

Pop... pop, pop!

Accompanied by the sound of gunfire.

The first warm-up battle began!

"Set up, set up! Listen to my command, crossfire!"

At the location marked "Lizard One," a small hill about three meters above the ground covering an area of more than 400 square meters.

The 22 men of 1st platoon, Company C of the 2nd battalion were stationed here.

Sergeant John Baslone instructed his comrades beside him, his gaze firmly fixed on the desert ahead.

He had already heard the footsteps, even the beating of hearts.

Whiz~!

Just then, a flare shot up into the sky, illuminating the surrounding area brightly.

There they are!

John Baslone saw it—thousands of people tightly packed below, at least over a thousand.

"¡Fuego!" he shouted with fury!

His M2HB-QCB heavy machine gun began to spew fire relentlessly.

Their squad was a firepower team, equipped with three M2HB-QCB heavy machine guns and three M60 machine guns.

All were bullet-devouring "monsters."

The crossfire network they established instantly covered the several hundred meters in front of them.

The Iraqi soldiers at the forefront were peppered with bullets and turned into sieves.

A somewhat overweight soldier lay on the ground, clutching an AK-63, the standard rifle of the Hungarian army and the most widely used individual weapon among the Iraqi soldiers.

He shivered on the ground in terror.

A sergeant crawled up behind him, grabbed his collar, "Charge up there, Iqbal! Stand up!"

Seeing the fatty still trembling, the sergeant, in a fit of rage, drew his pistol intending to execute him. His body slightly raised up...

"Ah!!" Heavy machine gun bullets swept across his shoulder, shattering his bones instantly and the sergeant tumbled, screaming in pain.

Seeing his plight, the soldier named Iqbal became even less inclined to raise his head, crouching and shivering beside the bodies of his comrades.

In trench warfare, the heavy machine gun was an untamed "beast"; it couldn't be restrained.

In just ten minutes.

John Baslone had killed at least 60 people!

A small mountain of spent casings had accumulated around him, his fingers starting to stiffen from the constant pressing...

His subordinate, crouching behind as an observer, ammunition carrier, and replacement in case of John Baslone's death, was sharp-eyed. He slapped the sergeant's calf, "Tanks, there are tanks!"

Hum~

The B-84-1 type supercharged multifuel engine was also wild on the battlefield, propelling the 41-ton steel beast as it roared towards them.

Displaying the brutal aesthetics of the Soviet Union.

"How many, how many?" John Baslone nervously asked.

The comrade behind him hurriedly squatted upright, "One, two, three..."

"Three!!"

Boom!

Still several hundred meters away, the short-recoil operated 125mm smoothbore tank gun of the 2A46 series fired a shot!

It was so thick, NMD, nobody could withstand it!

Even the Emperor Emeritus of Japan MacArthur would have to exclaim: "Damn it!"

The shell exploded behind John Baslone, the blast wave flinging him two or three meters through the air, tumbling. His head pounding with pain, he still struggled to rise just to see his observer had been blown to death not far away.

The squad members quickly redeployed the machine guns and fiercely sprayed down the climbing infantry below!

John Baslone's face was bloodied, he pushed his teammate away, wielded the heavy machine gun, his mouth half-open. His cheeks trembled with the recoil as he unleashed his fury.

The Iraqi soldiers who were climbing up faced annihilation, leaving behind dozens of bodies in panic as they hurriedly retreated. This rout angered the T72 tanks, and in the retinal reflection of John Baslone, the kings of the land charged at them, their gun barrels seemed to be accumulating power!

We're done for...

I'm gonna die here.

Boom!

The T72 tank was hit on the side, its entire turret skewed by the explosion and caught fire; it's tracks broken. The behemoth, like a bewildered child wanting to escape but with broken legs, had no way to run and awaited death in place!

Whiz~

Another shell flew, blasting the turret into the sky. When it fell back down, it also smashed two soldiers to death.

"M1A1!"

John Baslone looked up only to see a U.S. Military M1A1 tank dash over a mound with the grace of steel wings achieving air superiority.

Thump!

It landed heavily on the ground, kicking up dust, and amid astonished stares, it charged into the closest T72 on its side. Your frontal ERA armor might be reinforced, but not your side...
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59 tons against 41 tons!

Tanks aren't always about weight, but in such head-to-head clashes, weight still has a significant advantage. The engine of the AGT-1290-TC roared as it literally flipped the T72 over???

Of course, this was a particular circumstance...

The M1A1 still gracefully rotated its turret at that moment, targeting another T72 30 meters away with a frontal shot!

These M1A1s had been retrofitted before they hit the battlefield, featuring second-generation depleted uranium discarding sabot (DU DS) penetrators, capable of piercing 700 millimeters thick homogeneous steel armor at a distance of 2000 meters!

Is the frontal armor of your T72 that thick?

Even Skywarp taking a hit head-on would turn into ash.

Destroyed on impact!

Boom, boom, boom!! It triggered the T72's ammo to cook off, blasting it into pieces.

John Baslone was stunned.

This was downright TMD art!

To drive a tank like this.