Chapter 2: Instructor, you're too awesome!

  Patted the dirt off his head, and looked at the tank in front of him. At this time, it was a thick smoke, and the fire had subsided.

  The turret and the tank body were separated, falling to one side, the barrel was bent, probably when it landed again, the barrel pointed downwards. Looking at the state of the tank, the people inside must have been killed beyond recognition.

  It was just in time! Almost got crushed into a meat pie by the tank, looking at the red five-star on the turret, Slide Dongjie still had a kind of lucky escape from death.

  All around, bodies were strewn about in every direction, many of them crushed by tanks. Those with big beards and wearing long robes had only one identity - Afghan guerrillas.

  And this tank in front of us that was knocked down, it only belonged to one era, the 1980s, when the Soviet Union invaded Afghanistan!

  Huā Dōng Jié's mind was a jumble, this place was both extremely familiar and extremely strange, how did he end up here? This was a powder keg.

  Afghanistan has never been pacified and in later times the world's riffraff occupied this place, still a quagmire.

  What is my identity here now? There are some vague impressions in my mind, but I'm not quite sure.

  "Commander, I thought you were done for when the tank ran over you... Thank God, that damned Satan, the Soviet tank, has finally been taken out." Just as Xue Dongjie was still standing there in a daze, a person stood up from behind a broken earth wall and spoke to him.

  His eyes were sunken, his nose was slightly high, his skin was dark, and his big beard had not been trimmed, almost covering his mouth. He wore a white robe that had turned brown. This is a typical Middle Eastern man, or rather, an Afghan local.

  Looking at Slade, who was staring at him with a bewildered expression, the Afghan guerrilla in front of him said: "Instructor, are you injured? Did you get hit in the head?"

  Just now, seeing the instructor being crushed under the Soviet tank, Durrani-Shah's heart almost jumped into his throat.

  For more than two years, the Soviets occupied all of Afghanistan. In response to the Soviet invasion, Afghans became enraged and spontaneously formed guerrilla bands to resist the Soviet Satan's invasion.

  However, the gap in strength was very obvious. After controlling various major cities, the Soviets began to attack the mountainous areas controlled by the guerrillas, who retreated step by step. Faced with tanks and aircraft, they were at a loss. It was then that a batch of instructors finally arrived from neighboring Pakistan to guide their military training.

  Also arriving together are various weapons, such as this rocket launcher now.

  The instructor led them, conducting training in the mountains, but was ambushed by Soviet troops. They followed the instructor and escaped, but were pursued by this tank and couldn't shake it off.

  At this time, the tank chased too fast, causing the infantry behind to follow up. The tank that lost the protection of the infantry was very fragile. After seeing this situation, the instructor decided to stop and hide in place, while preparing to launch an attack on the tank.

  Who would have thought that the first rocket shell flew away, and their whereabouts were immediately discovered by Soviet tankers. Although the instructor shouted to hide, those guerrilla fighters still ran around in all directions.

  As a result, tanks charged horizontally and vertically, while machine guns swept across, almost all the guerrilla fighters were sacrificed.

  Originally thought the Soviet Union would just leave like that, so maybe there are still surviving brothers who can be rescued again. As a result, however, I saw that the Soviet Union had left behind a tank, which was crushing everything in its path.

  The whole guerrilla team was left with only the instructor and Dulaney, if the instructor hadn't pressed Dulaney tightly, he would have stood up and been shot dead just now.

  Now, with this last tank remaining, they didn't even spare the corpses, and the instructor was furious.

  Dulani watched as the instructor ran out from his hiding place, holding a rocket launcher, wanting to get closer before firing. However, he was suddenly swept away by a burst of machine gun fire from the tank and fell to the ground.

  Then, the tank rolled over, Duranni's eyes were red, just wanting to rush up, and miraculously saw the instructor standing up, then fired a rocket from behind the opponent's tank.

  As the rocket flew out, the tank finally caught fire and then exploded. The scene was spectacular.

  The temporary absence of danger allowed Duranni to run out from his hiding place and go towards the instructor.

  Who would have thought, the instructor seems to be stunned.

  "Durrani?" Slade tried to say, he himself couldn't believe that he had mastered another foreign language without studying, and could now utter this very tongue-twisting Pashto phrase.

  "Captain, you've finally remembered my name!" Dulaney exclaimed: "You're the greatest, you took out a Soviet tank!"

  Great? At this time, Xide Jie's mind had inherited more memories. He had confirmed that he was indeed transported here. The real Muhammad-Kamran was killed by the Soviet tank machine gun, and he replaced this man, an instructor from Pakistan who led this guerrilla team.

  Now this guerrilla team is left with only one person, Duranni, which shows how stupid this Muhammad is.

  Of course, using a rocket launcher to destroy the enemy's tank is originally very dangerous. Moreover, if you are not in the army and have not received training on being crushed by tanks, you may not be so calm as to let the tank pass over your body without changing your position.

  If you move slightly, you will definitely be crushed into a meat pie. At the beginning of training, some team members also urinated in their pants. When the tank passed over from above, although the two tracks would not crush themselves, it was still very terrifying.

  Only by sweating more in peacetime can we bleed less in wartime.

  Damn heaven, threw himself here, in 1981 Afghanistan, in the northern mountainous area of Jalalabad near the Pakistan border. In addition to accepting this identity as Muhammad, he also had to accept countless trials of blood and fire, although extremely depressed, Xide still quickly accepted this reality, he is that Pakistani instructor, Muhammad, who will lead Afghanistan towards a bright future.

  Muhammad stood up, gazed eastward, and smelled the bloody smell in the air. Now, there is only battle!

  "Sweep the battlefield, gather your weapons, and then follow me," Muhammad said.

  Go? Where to go? Dulan was stunned for a moment.

  Muhammad had already begun to bend down and pick up the weapons of his companions.

  The body had been crushed beyond recognition, and the gun it was carrying had also been damaged.

  From the bodies that were blown to pieces, Muhammad carefully and quickly searched for intact cartridge cases. He soon gathered four of them and filled his bullet pouches with the bullets. Then, he joyfully found four undamaged rocket-propelled grenades among the corpses.

  At this time, Duranni was still there in a daze.

  "Let's go," Muhammad said, walking forward.

  Dulani followed Muhammad for a few steps before feeling uneasy: "Sir, where are we going?"

  "We're going to look for trouble with the Soviets," Muhammad said.

  He vaguely remembered that the tank chasing them all the way had already separated from the infantry, and this tank that had left the protection of the infantry was exactly Muhama's target.

  As for themselves, two people, looking for trouble with the Soviets? Dulaney thought he must have misheard. The instructor had just destroyed an enemy tank, but their own side had also lost dozens of men, and they were still at a disadvantage. If they went again, they might not make it back.

  "What's wrong, are you afraid?" Muhammad asked.

  Dulani immediately shook his head: "I'm not afraid! If I was afraid of death, I wouldn't have joined the guerrilla team."

  In Mullah Mohammad's memory, this Duranni relative originally lived in Jalalabad. When the Soviets first invaded and occupied the city, all of Duranni's relatives were killed. Therefore, Duranni had a deep hatred for the Soviets.

  Now, hearing Muhammad ask himself if he was afraid, Durrani immediately puffed out his chest, carrying his rocket launcher and slinging his rifle, following Muhammad along the path as they walked forward.

  At this time, Muhammad's footsteps were powerful. Although there was no large-scale war in his hometown in later generations, as a special forces soldier, he had participated in many operations. This guerrilla warfare tactic was also very handy for him.

  In this mountainous region, it's their own territory, their own ancestral land, yet they were defeated so badly by the Soviets! Muhammad truly felt sorrow for his ancestors.

  It's time for me to show off my skills on this battlefield!

  Now, the Soviet Union was still in the early stages of the war, and the Soviet army, which was originally prepared for a European-style war on the plains, did not have suitable weapons for mountain warfare. For example, the T-62 tanks used by the main force of the 40th Army were completely unsuitable for mountain warfare. The tank's firing range was small, the high-power engine consumed a lot of fuel, and it put a huge burden on logistics. Especially when there were no infantry following around, these tanks became live targets. After one or two years of practice, the Soviets stopped using this type of tank and switched to infantry fighting vehicles.

  Of course, Muhammad also had psychological preparation. If he was going to be glorious, it would be best to cross back again. This place where birds don't poop is really not habitable. At least, the daily habit of taking a bath needs to be thoroughly changed.

  Muhammad walked very quickly, and after half an hour, he heard a rumbling sound coming from afar.

  "Soviets!" Durrani exclaimed.

  Who else but the Soviets? The Afghan guerrillas didn't have tanks, and Muhammad was hiding behind a large boulder, where he could see those six tanks, the very same tank unit that had been chasing them.

  Six tanks! There were only two people on their side, and when Dulaney saw these tanks, he knew that the best choice now was to stay still and quietly wait for these iron monsters to disappear from his line of sight.

  Although Muhammad's mind was filled with excitement for the battle, he also knew that now was not a good time to ambush Soviet tanks.

  At most, two people would take out a Soviet tank, only to be discovered by several other tanks, and the result of being discovered was getting killed.

  Now, can't move.

  Looking at the five-star on the turret and the black smoke coming out from behind, Muhammad sat down on the ground reluctantly.

  The Soviets left, they were executioners, but they themselves had no way to avenge the fallen warriors.

  As he gazed at the distant black smoke, Muhammad suddenly had an idea.

  "Durrani, I recall there should be a valley ahead?" Muhammad asked.

  He had just crossed over, and whether this memory was real or not, Muhammad couldn't confirm.

  "Right, just twenty kilometers ahead," Duranni said.

  "Alright, let's take the small road, we must arrive before the Soviets," Muhammad said.