You were tasked with guarding the Sihang Warehouse, and you brought out a Tiger tank?

Half an hour later.

In the camp of the First Honor Brigade, the roar of engines drowned out the sound of rain.

Lin Feng sat in the Sd.Kfz.223 command armored vehicle, leaning half his body out to watch the orderly departure of the troops.

Leading the way were the "Cougar" armored vehicles of the armored reconnaissance company, whose long 50mm gun barrels looked particularly menacing in the rain.

Next came the tank battalion.

The 38(t) light tanks rolled lightly over the mud, the Panzer III L medium tanks were steady and heavy, and the 12 oddly shaped "Bison" self-propelled heavy infantry guns looked like a group of beetles carrying giant cannons. Although ugly, thick barrels are beautiful!

Behind them were the elite 1st Regiment, and the equally high-spirited 3rd and 4th Regiments.

Following closely behind was a long convoy of supply wagons, piled high with ammunition and grain, covered with thick tarpaulins.

The last were the truck convoy carrying the wounded and the 2nd Regiment bringing up the rear.

"Set off!"

With Lin Feng's command, the long dragon slowly wriggled away from Shanghai, where they had fought bloody battles for months, and plunged into the vast rain.

Behind them, on the distant horizon, came the faint rumble of thunder.

That wasn't thunder.

Those were the cannon fire from the Japanese warships.

Goodbye, Shanghai.

Lin Feng took one last look back at the city swaying in the wind and rain, clutching the military flag that Liu Xiaodao had risked his life to give him.

"When I come back, I'm going to plant this military flag in Hongkou Park."

-----

The rain is still falling.

It was as if God was going to let out all the tears he had shed over the past few decades at once.

Hundreds of thousands of troops, along with countless refugees, were stuck on the road like a pot of overcooked porridge.

"Make way, make way, the officer's car needs to pass."

Beside a black sedan, several military policemen were waving their rifle butts, trying to drive away the surrounding refugees, but the crowd was packed like sardines and they couldn't move at all.

Countless corpses lay in the roadside ditch.

Some were trampled to death, some succumbed to their injuries, and many more starved or froze to death.

Lin Feng sat in the command armored vehicle, looking out at the hellish scene through the bulletproof glass embedded in the observation port, his face ashen.

Although he chose to take the back road to the north, avoiding the most congested main road, the section of the Shanghai-Nanjing Highway (Jinling-Hushang) that he had to cross still made him realize what it meant to suffer a crushing defeat.

"Buzzing—"

The muffled sound of engines came from above the clouds.

Although the heavy rain and fog made it unsuitable for large-scale bombing, Japanese planes still emerged from time to time, like flies attracted by the smell of blood.

"Where are the anti-aircraft guns? Get them out of here!"

Lin Feng immediately grabbed the radio and shouted.

In the convoy, several trucks towing 20mm anti-aircraft guns suddenly stopped, and the artillerymen quickly got off, set up the guns, and raised the muzzles.

"Knock knock knock knock!"

Several trailing bullets flew into the sky.

The Japanese planes clearly hadn't expected such a tough opponent to be among the retreating troops, and in fright, they pulled up their noses and disappeared into the clouds.

But this can only save the situation temporarily, not in the long run.

"This is the fate of a nation..."

Lin Feng sighed.

If nothing changes, this miserable situation will continue for several more years.

The convoy moved with difficulty.

Suddenly, Lin Feng's gaze was drawn to a metallic gleam in the roadside ditch.

It was a huge, massive figure, overturned in the mud.

"parking!"

Lin Feng pushed open the car door and jumped out, trudging through the mud.

Upon closer inspection, even he couldn't help but breathe rapidly.

That was a cannon.

A heavy cannon with a long barrel and a huge, open-legged gun carriage!

Although covered in mud, the Han script inscribed on the cannon was still clearly visible—Rheinmetall.

"15cm sFH 18mm howitzer!"

Lin Feng's hand stroked the cold cannon barrel, his heart pounding.

This is the legendary "Rheinmetall Fifteen Grenade".

The Nationalist Army spent a lot of money to exchange tungsten ore for this precious weapon from the Hans. There were only a few dozen of them in the entire Great Xia. Compared with the 15cm sFH 18 howitzer that could be exchanged in the system, the Great Xia special edition had a longer barrel and a range of 2km.

However, now it's just thrown into the stinking ditch by the roadside like garbage.

There was also a Henschel heavy tractor parked next to it, with the fuel tank cap open, obviously out of fuel.

"Spendthrifts, a bunch of spendthrifts!"

Lin Feng cursed in anguish, "Just throw it away when there's no oil left? Even if it's fried, we can't leave it for the Japanese!"

He walked a few hundred meters further and, lo and behold, found another door, also overturned on its side by the roadside.

In broad daylight, surrounded by a chaotic mob of refugees and defeated soldiers, no one dared approach this menacing force, but countless eyes were watching.

Lin Feng naturally couldn't just wave his hand and perform a magic trick like "making the cannons come out of nowhere" to stuff these two massive machines, each weighing several tons, into the system space.

"Sun Ziqiang, bring your maintenance company here quickly."

Lin Feng grabbed the phone and yelled.

Less than two minutes later, accompanied by the noise of tracks crushing mud, two Sd.Kfz.7 half-track repair vehicles rumbled over.

The small crane on the truck bed stretched out like a giraffe, and Sun Ziqiang led dozens of oil-covered technical engineers off the truck.

"Can you get it done?" Lin Feng asked.

"Look at you, passenger seat. What do we do? We're professionals."

Sun Ziqiang rolled up his sleeves: "Attach the steel cable, prepare the crane, one, two, three, lift!"

The half-track's engine roared, the winch spun, and the steel cables were taut.

Pulled by mechanical force, the two war gods, which were stuck in the mud, slowly stood up again, covered in silt.

"Refuel the tractor, check it out, attach the cannon, and find two more drivers."

Lin Feng was overjoyed to see the two heavy artillery pieces back in service.

Is this the legendary "zero-yuan purchase"?

Pick up two doors from the roadside, wash them and they're ready to use.

"From this day forward, these two cannons belong to the Lin family!"

Before they had gone two miles, the scouts made another discovery in a rice paddy by the roadside.

"Commander, there are some strange tanks over there, they look like... amphibious?"

Lin Feng led his guards over, stumbling along the muddy path, to take a look.

Good guy.

Three tanks painted in camouflage and with chassis shaped like small boats were half-submerged in a paddy field, with heavy machine guns hanging limply on their turrets.

"Vickers amphibious tank?"

Lin Feng recognized the thing at a glance.

This is a prized possession of the Tank Regiment of the Training Corps; not many of them were imported into the entire Great Xia.

It appears that the vehicle was abandoned by the passengers due to mechanical failure or being stuck in the mud.

"Take it, we must take it."

Lin Feng waved his hand and said, "Sun Ziqiang, these few trucks are your job too."

"Okay!"

For Lin Feng, although these tanks were not as powerful as the 38(t) and even less capable than the Tiger, they had a unique skill: they could float.

The Jiangnan region is crisscrossed by waterways, and when this thing is paired with torpedo boats or the like, it becomes a formidable naval force.

……

The group turned onto a small road leading to Taicang.

The number of people has decreased significantly.

Just as they rounded a bend, the scout ahead suddenly fired a warning shot.

"Bang!"

"What's going on?" Lin Feng immediately asked via radio from inside the command vehicle.

At the intersection ahead, a group of ragged, defeated soldiers were holding guns and confronting a reconnaissance squad riding BMW R75 motorcycles.

This group of defeated soldiers numbered over a hundred. They were all emaciated, with sunken eyes, their uniforms torn to shreds, and their straw sandals worn out.

But their eyes were fierce.

That was the look in a hungry wolf's eyes.

Behind them, several villagers were trembling as they protected a bag of grain.

The leader of the fleeing soldiers was a man with the rank of second lieutenant, holding a Czech-made rifle in his hand, his finger on the trigger, and the veins on the back of his hand bulging.