Chapter 1198: Chapter 586: “Now I Tell Her, Those Are a Coward’s Tears Crossing the Atmosphere!!!!

“Boom…”

The area around Las Cruces, New Mexico.

About 100 kilometers from Juarez and 72 kilometers north of El Paso, Texas.

The 2nd Battalion of the 5th Cavalry Regiment, nicknamed “Gun Cavalry,” and the 2nd Battalion of the 8th Cavalry Regiment, nicknamed “Stallion,” from the 1st Armored Brigade Combat Team of the US Army’s 1st Cavalry Division are relentlessly attacking here with approximately 120 tanks and armored vehicles!

Above, fighters and bombers continuously drop bombs toward the ground.

The goal is to take this place and cut off the retreat of the two divisions of the 336th Army that have penetrated, cooperating with other forces to eliminate these fifteen thousand men!

Stationed here is the “Guard 1st Battalion” of the 779th Division of the Mexican 336th Army, with over 1,200 people. Major General Walter von Brauchitsch of the 336th Army also knows that this is a strategic location, and even though Juarez is at the rear, he cannot “completely” entrust their back to allied forces.

So, the capable “Guard 1st Battalion” was left here, and this battalion has a reputation.

These 1,200 individuals are all veterans from the former Soviet Union!

Among them are quite a few from “famous schools,” for example, the Guard Airborne 103rd Division, the 40th Army Group, the Guard Independent Air Assault Brigade 56, and the Guard Independent Air Assault Regiment 345, which performed well in the Afghan War. After the Soviet Union collapsed, these accomplices of the “Red Demons” did not fare well.

Some were forced to sell blood and military medals to survive; at that time, society was in chaos, and many desperate veterans had no choice but to join gangs to make ends meet.

Before the Soviet Union collapsed, Victor had already been recruiting experienced veterans on a large scale. It’s better to be a soldier with me than a mercenary.

Most importantly…

You can fight Americans with me.

Eat, sleep, shit, and fight Americans…

Many Soviet veterans believe that the country’s collapse is tied to the Yanks. Once Victor raised the flag, they flocked to join.

Oh…

Even airfare was covered; as long as you came and passed the physical exam, you were uniformly accepted, though demoted by one rank. Majors became captains, captains became first sergeants, and lieutenants became sergeants. To ensure they didn’t feel lost, Victor discussed with the Military Department to organize different groups of Soviets together to form a combat unit.

But the highest was at the battalion level.

Similar to…

Mexico’s “Foreign Legion,” perhaps.

And yes, their combat effectiveness is impressive…

From the start of the battle, they were roaring fiercely.

Father!

The footsteps of the Soviets finally stepped onto American soil!

When the US Military’s mechanized forces “attacked” Las Cruces, they quickly counterattacked.

The deafening roar tore apart the silence of the wilderness, and the flames from the 88mm gun barrel flashed through the birch woods.

The anti-tank company commander of the “Guard 1st Regiment,” Ivanovich, wiped the dirt off the observation lenses. He watched as a LAV-25 armored vehicle five kilometers away twisted like a tin can struck by a sledgehammer, emitting thick smoke. The people inside were as dead as they could be.

They really didn’t believe that their LAV-25 armored vehicle could withstand an anti-aircraft cannon fired flat.

These iron beasts meant for anti-aircraft fire, when lowered to fire flat, became the most lethal ground reapers.

“Load the armor-piercing rounds!” He kicked away the hot shell casings, and the air, mixed with gunpowder, scorched his throat, making him feel the blood as he swallowed.

A gun position 30 meters away was rapidly firing, with the team members’ mechanical and precise cooperation allowing for a rate of fifteen rounds per minute.

Another shell pierced through the poplar woods, blooming like a crimson flower on the US Military position.

A sudden rain of bullets swept in from the right side. As Ivanovich dove, he saw the rookie Andrei’s upper body being turned into a bloody mist by a 12.7mm bullet.

White smoke rose from a rocky formation 300 meters away, and an RPG trailing its mark smashed into the No.3 gun position, flipping the entire anti-aircraft gun into a burning heap of scrap iron.

Nearby comrades hurriedly dragged out the wounded soldiers, howling, but he was only letting out more breath than breathing in, and soon there was no longer any sound.

“Machine gun squad, suppress at nine o’clock direction!” Ivanovich rolled over to the spare ammunition box, the steel ammunition belt jangling a deathly tune amid the bumpy ride.

He watched as the armor-piercing round hole seemed to “dance,” avoiding every “obstacle” in its path, nailing three soldiers behind it to the oak tree.

The loader Sergei suddenly let out an inhuman scream; a sniper shattered his knee, but this Siberian strongman still hung onto the ammunition feeder, stuffing the fourth shell into the breech.

“сукинсын/дач!! (Son of a bitch!)”

“Blow you to hell!!”

The artillery company of the “Guard 1st Regiment” was deployed at the city’s west side of the main gate, right on “Lincoln Street,” where the US Military’s firepower was fiercely concentrated.

Company commander Mitrofan Nedyelin’s right hand, covered with burn scars, gripped the observation scope tightly. This 42-year-old veteran artilleryman always squinted his left eye—effects of shrapnel from 10 years ago made his world appear with double vision.

When he saw a group of 30 M1A1 armored vehicles from the US Military charging forward, his pupils contracted.

The visual impact brought by these “war beasts” was genuinely shocking.

Never be fooled by the “thousands” or “tens of thousands” often mentioned on TV; when 1,200 people stand in front of you, it feels like a lot!

After all, three people are already a crowd.

AAA Construction Material King, pay attention to your image in business. Don’t stack like acrobats, as it might cause cross-infections. (This means you!!)

“Swap to armor-piercing high-explosive rounds!!!”

The hoarse shout mingled with tinnitus.

Sergeant Maxim from gun position No.2 suddenly convulsed and fell. This strong man who loved humming Ukrainian folk songs had a fingernail-sized shrapnel embedded in his left temple, and his right eyeball dangled over his cheekbone like a melting glass ball.