Chapter Twelve: Sneak Attack on the Sentry Post

  From the corpse of a Soviet soldier on the ground, Mukhammad took off a hat and put it on his own head. The original tattered cloth was thrown aside. Then he got into the Kamaz, used the gun butt to strike with force, and smashed out a hole in the front windshield that was on the verge of collapse. Broken glass shards fell all over the ground.

  Although it was bulletproof glass, it could block bullets, but this glass would not remain intact after blocking the bullets. It would shatter at any time. Now, with a forceful poke from the gun butt, the chrysanthemum shattered all over the ground.

  Muhammad only cleared a small area of the glass in front of him, just enough to see the road ahead. The other side of the glass was still full of cracks and he couldn't see anything.

  "Hurry up and get on!" Muhammad said, looking at the guerrilla fighters behind him.

  Now, time is precious.

  The guerrillas rushed onto the car, most of them sat in the back, covered with a green military canvas awning, they crawled inside, and from the outside, nothing could be seen.

  Now they didn't have time to see what goods were in the car, and the engine below roared, then Karmas started.

  Muhammad gripped the steering wheel tightly, his foot slammed on the accelerator, the engine roared, then he let off the gas, and with a swift motion, his right hand pushed the gearshift forward.

  "Ka, whoosh." Then a cheerful shout was heard from inside the gearbox, and the gear shifted up.

  "Didn't you step on the clutch?" Hwaja said from the back seat.

  This time's battle, naturally cannot be without Hwaja's participation. After the sniper shot failed, Hwaja hugged his gun and ran wildly, finally getting on the truck before it started moving.

  Leave ten people on the battlefield to clean up the battlefield and take back the spoils of war, while more than 20 others got on the car, this time they are going to destroy that sentry post.

  This is an important step in the Muhamaad plan, their main purpose this time is to blow the whistle, but before blowing the whistle, they first attacked this convoy.

  And what's more, hijacking a vehicle from the convoy is crucial, because only then can they easily rush into the checkpoint!

  Such a battle, Khwaja would never miss it. Now, sitting in the co-pilot's seat, Khwaja looked at Muhammad's movements and immediately felt curious.

  At this time, with the roar of the engine, then, in the gap between the roars, a new gear was hung again, and this time, the clutch was not stepped on.

  Muhammad did not answer Khwaja's words but instead asked: "Can you drive a truck?"

  If Muhammad had known that others would open fire, he wouldn't have taken the initiative himself. After all, this position is the easiest to get shot at. The bulletproof glass in front has already been smashed by him, otherwise, he couldn't see the road.

  These guerrilla fighters, many of whom are from mountain tribes, some have never even been to a city. If you ask them to drive a horse or donkey, they can do it, but if you ask them to drive a truck, definitely many people won't know how.

  Who would have thought, Hevajra actually did.

  In response to Muhammad's question, Khwaja said: "At that time I used to work in a factory in Jalalabad where there were trucks and I drove them quietly."

  In a factory? Hearing this, Muhammad felt somewhat emotional.

  Actually, before the outbreak of war in Afghanistan, some basic industries had been established. The whole country, although it had only recently connected with the rest of the world, had become civilized and open. If this trend continued, who knows, it might have also become a rich industrial nation.

  Unfortunately, the Soviet invasion plunged Afghanistan into war. The Soviets left, but the war continued. Later, the Taliban seized power, and people thought the country would get back on track. However, the Taliban abandoned all their previous promises and attempted to establish a fundamentalist state. Women had to wear veils when going out, and they couldn't even talk to strange men. All efforts to connect with modern society were in vain.

  Although he has only fought two battles, Mohammad feels that he has become a part of this era and this country. Now that he is here, can Afghanistan repeat the old path again?

  No way, absolutely not!

  The road ahead of Muhammad became clear once again, and very far, very far.

  "Is this still a secret?" asked Khwaja, who was standing beside him.

  Muhammad heard clearly, just now's question, he himself hasn't answered yet.

  "It's easy, practice makes perfect." Muhammad said: "When we get back this time, I'll teach you."

  Shifting gears without using the clutch, as long as the accelerator is coordinated well, this technique many professional truck drivers in Eastern countries are familiar with. Muhamed had come into contact with such techniques during his previous training.

  The engine continued to roar as Kamras approached the whistle stop, getting closer and closer.

  From the broken glass, Muhammad saw the outpost in front of him, built on a high ground beside the road, which could overlook the surroundings. There were three machine gun positions around the outpost, which could perfectly protect the outpost. If there were guerrillas coming to launch a surprise attack, no matter where they came from, they would be covered by the hail of bullets.

  There must be a generator in the sentry box, and above it, there is a very large searchlight.

  Although we now have this truck and can quietly approach the outpost, if we really go past it, because these guerrilla fighters have not undergone rigorous training and did not assign targets in advance, then going on like this will still result in casualties.

  What's wrong?

  Looking at the roadblock ahead, Muhammad slowed down the truck.

  This truck is a supply truck for the Soviets, so almost as soon as Muhamed spoke, two soldiers emerged from the checkpoint to move the roadblock.

  "Hurry, assemble the troops and go to the front mountain road for rescue. Our convoy has been surrounded by a group of guerrillas." Muhammad stuck his head out of the window, with bloodstains on his hat, and the fresh blood on the windows made it clear that he was someone who had barely escaped from death.

  Muhammad's words were fluent and urgent, the two soldiers didn't hesitate at all, they moved the roadblock away and ran towards the sentry post behind.

  Actually, the two distant explosions, they also vaguely heard them, but without the above order, they stayed in this sentry post and couldn't move.

  Now, upon hearing Muhammad's words, a loud whistle was heard from the sentry post. With this sound, all the soldiers ran over from where they were.

  First gather on the empty ground, line up and have a brief speech, then take the two cars in the sentry post, they can quickly go to support.

  Seeing those soldiers gathering in a hurry, Muhammad smiled on his face and stepped on the accelerator to the bottom.

  "Rrrzzzz." The Kamaz truck came tearing in like a madman, and the Soviet soldiers didn't know what was happening until they saw flames spewing out of the truck.

  Wherever the flames reached, there was a deathly scream.

  The driver's cab in front and the carriage behind were both spewing out flames.

  "They're guerrillas! Take them out!" The squad leader, hiding behind an oil drum, saw the people behind the truck and realized that they were not their own men but locals in disguise.

  These guerrillas, pretending to be their own people, came to launch a surprise attack! This made the squad leader extremely angry. On the empty ground, there were already bodies lying all over, with nearly twenty people falling in the blood pool, and then being trampled by that despicable Karmas.

  It seemed that his long speech had attracted the attention of the guerrilla team. He lowered his head and heard a loud noise, bullets hitting the oil barrel, sparks flying everywhere.

  "Screech." The car finally came to a stop, the door opened, and Muhammad was the first to jump out, holding an AKM in his hand, charging towards the nearest machine gun position.

  Due to the whistle of the gathering just now, the machine gunner at this machine gun position also ran over to prepare for orders, so this machine gun position was temporarily vacant.

  The machine guns here pose the greatest threat to the guerrilla forces.

  A Soviet soldier was also running towards here, it seems that this soldier also knew that using this machine gun to deal with the guerrillas was the most suitable choice.

  "Rat-a-tat-tat." Muhammad's AKM spat out a tongue of flame, and the Soviet soldier in front of him fell over with a thud.

  Three steps and two steps, Muhammad jumped into the bunker of the machine gun position.

  M1938

  DSHK heavy machine gun! Muhammad fell in love with it at first sight.

  Although this heavy machine gun was actually available during World War II, it is sturdy and durable. The 12.7mm caliber bullet can penetrate the thin armor of the BMP infantry fighting vehicle. When mounted on a tripod, it can also be used as an anti-aircraft weapon. Although it cannot penetrate the armor of the Mi-24, hitting its vulnerable parts can still bring it down.

  This machine gun continued to serve in Russia after its dissolution and has not been retired.

  The only drawback is that this machine gun is too heavy.

  Behind Muhammad, Duranni closely followed and jumped into the machine gun nest together.

  "Quickly, move this machine gun over there," Muhammad said.

  Durrani and Muhammad together lifted the machine gun over there.

  As he swung his gun muzzle around, Muhammad hadn't even fired yet when he saw another machine gun nest on the other corner spit out a tongue of flame.

  They opened fire on the guerrillas, one of whom was unable to dodge and was hit immediately.

  The 12.7mm bullet hit the man's body, immediately creating a big hole, and the guerrilla fighter didn't even have time to let out a miserable cry before falling to the ground.

  "Damn it, I'll kill your mother!" Muhammad shouted, with a machine gun in his hand, and the heavy machine gun spat out flames.

  Durrani, who was holding onto the zipper next to him, had no idea what the instructor was saying. It wasn't Russian, nor was it Pashto, but rather sounded like a language from some Eastern country.

  Muhammad just said is national scolding.

  Muhammad hastily picked up the most fluent words and said them, and with his words, bullets poured towards that machine gun position.

  In an instant, the person opposite seemed to be electrocuted, his body shook several times, and fresh blood flowed onto the cold machine gun, falling on the bunker. PS: Thank you for the reward from book friend heavensailer! Thanks for the voting support from all friends!