"Decrease the scale by 4, direction left 002, fire two rounds!"
At this mont, Song Heping was not anywhere else but atop a tower in the workshop area.
The artillery position was about four kiloters behind him, located in an open space at the center of the living area.
The Soviet-made 120-caliber mortars had been delivered by Ferrari the day before yesterday.
They were not new, all second-hand.
But they were well-maintained, with little wear in the barrel.
These items, without a question, used to belong to Sadam.
They were probably the equipnt that the forr governnt army had abandoned when the Aricans ca.
An old gun is not to be feared, the crucial point is that it works well.
A classic weapon has a characteristic, that even after decades, it still operates vigorously.
The killing radius of a 120 mortar could reach up to about 60 ters.
The larger the killing radius, the less demand for aiming precision.
The mortar was operated by Samir and about a dozen local rcenaries.
These rcenaries all had one thing in common: they were highly educated.
The highly educated ones all took on the roles of gunners and commanders.
The commander was responsible for calculating the paraters, the gunner for aiming and adjusting elevation.
These two positions required quick thinking and a certain level of education.
As for the role of artillery commander, Song Heping, alongside Hunter, Grey Wolf, and the Chef took on the responsibility personally.
This ti, Song Heping had prepared a significant gift for Naxin.
Apart from several newly purchased mortars, Song Heping had gathered more than fifty people near the living area.
He and the Chef and so others then looked for vantage points in the nearby workshop area, using night vision goggles to track the attacking trajectory of distant assailants; each person was responsible for one direction, imdiately guiding artillery fire upon spotting the enemy.
The defensive periter of Hassan Oil Field was too large, which was a drawback.
Having dozens of people spread out for defense was akin to sending them to their death.
They could not possibly stop an attack and encirclent by several hundred people from different directions.
The only strategy was to consolidate.
Concentrate forces to defend a single spot.
Use mortars for striking and continuously sap the enemy's strength during their attack.
Due to the sizable area of the oil region, attacking from the periphery to the center also spanned several kiloters.
Since the oil region was now abandoned, many of the roads were damaged, so even blasted, with various tal fras and abandoned equipnt lying about everywhere.
This inadvertently created natural barriers, making it impossible for Naxin's forces to drive directly to the central area.
Song Heping had already thoroughly mapped out the terrain here.
If Naxin were to bring people back for another attack, his pickups and all-terrain vehicles could only be parked at the edge of the oil field, then approach the central living area through slow infantry deploynt.
Thus, they had to walk several kiloters to achieve their tactical objective.
This provided Song Heping with a chance to intercept and deplete the enemy's forces.
Having a large oil field area had its drawbacks, but if the tactics were correct exploiting strengths and avoiding weaknesses, those disadvantages could also turn into advantages.
Under Song Heping's guidance, two rounds of 120 mortar shells were fired, soaring towards the barren wilderness outside the oil field.
One exploded in mid-air, missing the target.
But the other landed right between two pickups.
Boom—
The fragnts of the Killing Bomb shot out in all directions.
Countless small holes instantly appeared on the bodies of the two pickup trucks.
One of the fragnts fortunately hit a driver of one of the pickups in the neck, blood spurting out imdiately and saring the windshield.
The vehicle instantly lost control, its front right wheel at high speed climbed over a half-ter tall small sand dune, imdiately performing a flying car stunt.
The entire pickup soared three ters up high and shot forward more than ten ters.
Song Heping even saw through his night vision binoculars that a pickup truck was flying through the air in a rather comical posture, its wheels up, hurling live bodies from the truck bed and the cab along the way.
These unfortunate ones smashed heavily onto the ground, either breaking an arm or a leg, or having their necks snapped, instantly killed.
Another pickup, although it hadn't flipped, was spared from hits to its driver, but the ard n standing in the truck bed weren't so lucky.
If a shrapnel hit a vital spot and killed them instantly, it wouldn't be painful—they'd close their eyes and reach the gates of hell in a few seconds.
The fear was being hit by shrapnel in a non-vital area, making life unbearably painful.
Suddenly, a chorus of agonizing screams ca from the truck bed.
The screams mixed with the roar of the engine, creating a sinister symphony in the dead of night.
Two pickup trucks hesitated.
They began to slow down.
Naxin saw this from his own vehicle and shouted furiously to the heavens, "Charge! You idiots! Do you want to die?"
He wasn't wrong.
Once you start a charge, you must never hesitate midway.
The slowing vehicles were imdiately noticed by Song Heping from a distant tower.
He imdiately issued a firing order to the mortar position—
"Mortar number 1, adjust left 012, subtract 3 from the scale, fire two rapid shots!"
Boom—
Boom—
The sound of the mortar was not piercing; in fact, rely hearing it, one would never suspect its devastating lethality.
But the impact was a different story.
The explosions were very close this ti.
One landed about 6 ters behind the two pickups.
The other shell exploded directly inside the truck bed of one of the pickups.
Boom—
Boom—
The Desheka heavy machine gun mounted on the struck pickup was blasted into the sky along with shattered limbs.
"Instructor, they've got mortars! Large-caliber mortars!"
Naxin's channel was in complete disarray.
"Blue Team is under attack, two of our vehicles have been hit..."
"We've also been hit by mortar fire, their targeting is very accurate, our losses are too heavy..."
"We can't see the enemy, they're not at the edge of the oil fields, should we continue to advance!?"
A cacophony of voices requesting instructions ca through, and Naxin was boiling with rage.
If these team leaders were in front of him right now, he would definitely pull out his pistol and execute one of them as a warning to the others!
Idiots!
All idiots!
What is there to panic about!
Can you fight a war without people dying?!
He suddenly realized that the so-called "elite" troops of the Madheh Army he had trained for so long were nothing more than a group of incompetents good only for fighting when the wind was at their backs!
In previous conflicts with other ard factions, they might have perford comndably, but when they faced truly capable opponents like Song Heping, these Madheh troops were just a pile of crap!
This made Naxin feel an imnse sense of defeat.
Previously, when his small squad was captured during a reconnaissance of this area, he could still find excuses to convince himself it was because they were outnumbered, because he had been careless, because the enemy was cunning...
Now, it was a direct confrontation.
With his forces of over two hundred split into groups to attack, they had already fallen into disarray without even seeing a trace of the enemy!
After years of grueling training, he had only managed to train a bunch of invalids!
"All squads charge, and those who aren't afraid of dying won't die! You bunch of idiots! Stop screaming and charge! Any squad that hasn't breached the oil field in five minutes, I'll blow your heads off myself!"
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