WWII military commentator? Even a dog could be one.

Chapter 133 The Elf in the Storm HE280, A Tragic Song of the Slavic Air Force

Pushing on the wooden door above the cellar, many Iranians discovered they were buried deep underground.

Some cellars had tunnels dug, and the helpless Iranian soldiers could only search for an exit through these tunnels.

"Damn it, this place is blocked too."

A group of soldiers stayed in the dim underground, feeling the dampness in the air.

Many people began to have difficulty breathing.

No one expected that the Slavs in the north would choose to blow up the entire city.

"There is an exit here."

Some Iranian soldiers from the 5th Division emerged from the cellar.

The weapons in his hands were a motley collection: Garand rifles, Field rifles, Mausers, and even an Italian MA1938A—a whole host of weapons from various countries.

They emerged from the rubble carrying ammunition belts and mortars.

The Iranians didn't like German mortars; they preferred Russian mortars, which were lighter and had a good range.

These Iranian soldiers had experienced a major battle and were seasoned veterans.

After emerging from the cellar, they immediately dispersed and built defenses based on the ruins.

"Iranian."

A soldier from a motorized infantry division shouted.

"Hurrah!"

Their comrades behind them rushed up quickly with guns in hand, only to be met by a machine gun emplacement.

Iranians lay prone on the ruins, rifles in hand, while soldiers with submachine guns raised their muzzles above their heads and fired in the direction of the sound without even looking.

Bang bang bang bang bang.

Bullets rained down, and large numbers of Russian soldiers fell one after another.

The eye sockets, neck, and torso were left completely undefended, as if gnawed by bullets.

Blood spread across the ground, staining a street red with blood.

"Go, go!"

The officer behind him was holding a pistol and firing shots into the sky.

The soldiers, densely packed like gray livestock, charged wave after wave, braving enemy bullets.

"Damn it, have the Slavs gone mad?"

A platoon of Iranians were terrified. The enemy seemed endless. Watching the enemy charge relentlessly, they were filled with fear.

Boom! Several grenades were thrown onto the Iranian position. The explosions hit three soldiers, who lay quietly on the ground after the smoke and dust dissipated.

From the ruins of the houses on both sides, figures emerged one by one.

The Slavs fired their rifles downwards, and a position was easily captured.

"Hurrah!"

The victorious northerners, brandishing their weapons, began a frenzied advance towards the rear of the city.

Bang! Bang! Several retreating Iranians were shot in the back and fell forward. Their teammates in front of them only glanced back before running away.

"There are too many enemies; we can't hold them off."

"Retreat, retreat to the Grand Bazaar, there are German troops there."

The Grand Bazaar still looks like a ruin.

However, there are banks, temples, and a large number of shops here.

The underground passages are interconnected.

A brigade of Reinhardt's infantry was stationed here.

They emerged from the tunnels, set up machine gun emplacements on the top of the shattered temple, and mounted mortars.

Large numbers of infantrymen armed with Mauser and M35 assault rifles set up defensive lines in the alleys on both sides of the market.

On the second floor of the shop, a large number of archers, armed with Mauser rifles and scopes, waited quietly.

As former main force of the French offensive, these Germans showed no sign of despair.

They held their breath and moved the arriving Iranians to both sides; every position here had gun barrels pointed to the north.

"For victory, hurrah!"

The last infantry division of the 26th Mechanized Corps launched an attack.

Three thousand men surged toward the enemy's position like a tidal wave.

But this time seems a little different.

When gunfire erupted on the position, the Russians discovered that the enemy's firepower was more than ten times stronger.

The bullets were so densely packed that they were like a torrential downpour.

The German infantry brigade, now equipped with assault rifles, was showing its fangs.

A group of Germans even raised their guns and fired in a gesture of faith.

The advantages of assault rifles became immediately apparent.

Slavs wielding rifles couldn't sneak up on people; most of their shooting required them to raise their rifles and expose their bodies to the air.

Bang bang bang bang!

Bullets ravaged the surroundings, leaving numerous bullet holes in every inch of the land.

It felt like the space itself was being torn apart.

It has been proven that in the absence of air-to-ground coordination, numbers are useless against concentrated firepower.

"Hurrah!"

The moment that shout was uttered, hundreds of people were torn apart by bullets as they ran.

Some even had their arms broken.

The wailing sound, accompanied by the oppressive temperature in the air, instantly ignited the surrounding environment.

Explosions rang out, blood splattered, and German mortars roared.

Fingers, skulls, and brain matter covered the empty road.

The Northern soldiers charging behind them could even step on the slick intestines beneath their feet.

War was far beyond what these northern recruits could accept.

"Aaaaaaah!"

Many people were so frightened that they lay motionless on the ground, some even getting their crotches wet.

"Cheer up!"

The committee members shouted behind him, their necks red.

One of the soldiers who escaped looked pale and was still in shock.

His collar was grabbed. "What are you doing? Deserter?"

"Report, they're all dead, an entire regiment, a whole regiment wiped out in less than ten minutes. The enemy's firepower is too strong; we can't break through."

"Damn it, listen up! Forget your fear, recruits! For the Motherland!"

"yes!"

"Pick up your weapon."

A second wave of deadly attacks occurred.

In two hours, the Slavs were driven back six times, and the Grand Bazaar was piled high with corpses. More than three thousand people died in the charge, yet they failed to advance more than two hundred meters.

Both sides paid a heavy price. The Iranian 5th Division had fewer than 800 soldiers left who could set up positions in the Grand Bazaar. The entire division was almost wiped out.

Both sides were fired up.

"Report."

Kulik, who was far away at his base in Azerbaijan, put down his cup and said, "Come in."

"The 26th Motorized Infantry Division entered Wenz and discovered the Germans."

"Haha, I knew there was a big fish. Telegraph the 47th Army, I want to catch him alive. This time the Germans will have no way to deny it."

""

"Report: There is also a German mechanized unit in Khorasan Province."

"Order the 43rd Army to flank and hold them off. If we can hold them back, we will win. Order the air force to attack the German tank divisions."

Gorgan Province, which borders Iran's Khorasan Province.

Soldiers from Iran's First and Third Gendarmerie Brigades dug trenches at the border between the two provinces.

They held the corridor leading to Khorasan Province.

The sun blazed down on the desolate land, and sweat dripped from the brows of Iranian soldiers.

A large group of cavalry could be vaguely seen in the steamy field of vision.

This cavalry unit came from Marshal Temuxin Ge of the North.

Now it has also become the main force of the 43rd Army in the offensive battle.

The cavalry, lined up in a row, resembled a giant wave about to crash down.

The greenhorns of the Iranian gendarmerie brigade are no match for the infantry division's men; they have almost no experience in war.

A roar came from the sky as the last Slavic air force took off.

A escort group of 70 I-15 and I-16 fighters was formed, followed by a dozen Li-2 fighters.

Kulik planned to take Khorasan in one fell swoop, then complete the encirclement at Wenz, wipe out the German 2nd Panzer Division of the 12th Army, and then advance a large force towards Tehran.

The soldiers of the 1st Military Police Brigade were filled with despair the moment they saw the plane.

"God, they've deployed the air force."

The roar in the sky grew louder and louder as the Li-2 flew over the position.

The Iranians began their defenses with limited air defenses, but their firepower was too weak.

Bombs rained down from the sky, exploding densely all around the position.

The sandstorm obscured the battlefield, and the sky was filled with black smoke.

"Aaaaaah!"

Screams echoed across the battlefield.

Some Iranian members of the military police brigade huddled in the trenches, their bodies trembling uncontrollably, having lost the courage to fight back.

With a sharp slash, the Slavs drew their sabers, spurred their horses, and launched a charge.

The herd of horses surged forward like a tidal wave, accelerating relentlessly, like swarms of hornets rushing towards a honeybee's hive.

The two sides immediately locked in combat, like a disgusting ball of flesh.

A large number of soldiers began close combat.

Looking at the battlefield in the distance, the generals of the 43rd Army smiled with satisfaction.

The Iranians on the position collapsed at the first contact.

The first line of defense was easily torn apart, and the Russians used the same tactic again, launching a second wave of air strikes towards the Third Brigade's defensive line.

"For the motherland, for victory!"

The pilots of the Northern Air Force shouted excitedly, saying that today was the happiest day of their lives.

For a while, they were almost completely outmatched by Iranian Hawk fighters and German Bf 109s.

At this moment, there is no air force on the other side, and victory is in sight.

"Whoa!" Many pilots even laughed and shouted at the same time.

Looking down at the trembling Iranians, their faces showed only joy.

A black dot appeared on the horizon.

"Look, it's an Iranian plane!"

"It doesn't seem so."

"Could they be German?"

"Haha, they only have ten, maybe ten at most. My God, we have 70. Do they think they can handle us?"

"They simply don't understand the absolute advantage of numbers."

"Destroy the Germans."

He watched as the northerners, seemingly on steroids, flew towards him.

Colonel Garland's lips curled slightly upwards.

"Guys, today is the first combat mission for Imperial Tactical Air Force J44 Squadron. Are you excited?"

"Haha, yes, Colonel."

"Hansfey, lead your squad to attack from the left, the rest of you follow me and launch a surprise attack."

"Yes, Colonel."

"Let's teach these northern rookies a lesson and show them what level the German ace squadron is at."

"Yes, Colonel."

The ten HE280s were completely different from those in history; with swept wings, they were much faster.

In the blink of an eye, ten jet fighters appeared like ferocious tigers charging into a pack of wolves.

"Oh my god."

The enemy's speed was so fast that the Slavic pilots couldn't react in time, and the enemy's four 30-caliber cannons opened fire instantly.

The shell penetrated the fuselage but did not explode. The delayed fuse detonated after the bullet had completely penetrated the aircraft.

An explosion occurred inside the machine.

This vicious weapon completely stunned the Russians.

More than a dozen old I-15s caught fire instantly and fell from the sky.

"Damn it, this can't be." After the explosion, the northerners realized that the other side was no small fry. Just as they were recovering from their surprise, they discovered...

"My God, their planes are spitting fire, they don't have propellers, and they're flying so fast."

"What kind of plane is that?"

Kiss my butt!

Garland laughed loudly, and the plane suddenly pulled up, easily shaking off the other party's entanglement.

The I15 was twice as slow as its opponent.

The outdated biplane was simply no match for the HE280; the generational gap was like an insurmountable chasm.

This was a pure massacre.

A 30mm cannon with a delayed explosion would be a nightmare for a biplane I-15.

Ten HE280s easily tore through the enemy's formation, and a large number of fireballs exploded in the air.

One after another, biplanes plummeted into the ground, billowing black smoke.

The loss was not only of aircraft, but also of pilots in the north. In just one week, the north lost more than 300 excellent pilots.

They can't even beat Iran's Hawk fighter jets.

With a whoosh, the pilot's curses came from the cockpit of the plane that had just been aimed at the north.

"I can't aim at it at all, it's too fast! God, what the hell is that thing?"

"Flame planes! Flame planes! We can't catch them! Retreat!"

Bang bang bang!

Two HE280s swooped down from high altitude, and the three biplanes caught fire again.

"Wow, the aiming system is no good, the cabin is too stuffy, and the piloting is too difficult, but otherwise, I'm very satisfied."

A German ace pilot was shouting.

Not only were the planes outmatched, but even the northerners were thoroughly outmatched. They simply couldn't imagine that this small squadron was full of aces.

"Damn it." The Slavs who wanted to retreat were easily caught up by Garland.

The machine gun fired, and the fireball turned into a regretful sight in the sky.

There's no way to escape.

The remaining Li-2 bomber pilots watched their escort formation being ravaged, their hearts pounding with fear.

"It's over, it's over."

"We're doomed."

Two HE280s immediately approached Li 2, and several rockets were fired at the fuselage.

With a loud bang, a large hole was torn open in the fuselage.

The machine gunner was so dizzy from spinning around that he couldn't keep up with the enemy's speed.

"I can't take it anymore. I feel like I'm just spinning around, firing randomly, and I can't hit anything."

The machine gunner yelled in frustration from his firing position, only to find the enemy had vanished in the blink of an eye.

"Mom." The pilot watched as the plane nose-down and closed his eyes.

With a loud crash, Li 2 shattered into pieces on the ground.

"One left, 11 in total. Divide into small groups and surround them."

Garland gave the order.

The J44 tactical air squadron even replicated the wolfpack tactic at sea and began to besiege the remaining bomber group.

With their speed, firepower, and technology, they decisively defeated the entire Northern Air Force formation.

This was a humiliating defeat in the history of aerial warfare, 82:0!

Wipe out the Russians without taking any damage.

Countless planes fell from the sky, all of them belonging to our own people.

The soldiers of the 43rd Army below stopped even screaming.

They stared blankly at the sky.

"Oh my god, we're all wiped out."

"The other party suffered no loss."

These words are extremely hurtful and incredibly insulting.

The Iranian positions, however, were met with deafening cheers.

"Hahaha, we won!"

The planes appeared in the sky once again, this time thirty Hawks.

The Iranian Air Force took over.

As Garland crossed paths with his opponent, he smiled and raised his middle and index fingers, waving them in the air.

The Iranian pilot gave a thumbs-up.

This amazing performance marks HE280's legendary debut.

Did the air force run out of ammunition?

The commander of the 43rd Army stared at the sky for a long time, speechless.

During this invasion of Iran, they lost more than a thousand tanks and 600 aircraft of various types.

One-third of the Air Force's resources were gone.

The Germans are helping them quickly clear out their old inventory.

Watching the Iranian Hawk fighter jets hurtle towards the artillery positions.

The commander of the 43rd Army closed his eyes bitterly, "Retreat, retreat."

The large-scale advance in Gorgan province has failed.

A massive armored force is currently moving across the desert.

Under the personal command of General Reinhardt, the tank regiment of the 2nd Armored Division of the 12th Army has approached the city of Wenz.

Meanwhile, the 47th Army from the north remained blocked outside the ruins.

"This time, I will march all the way to Azerbaijan and completely crush the Slavs."