You are ordered to support the War of Resistance against Japan; China enters Level 1 combat readines

The battle raged from dawn until noon.

Every inch of the high ground had been turned upside down by artillery fire, the trenches were filled with blood and mud, and corpses were piled up in layers.

Both sides were bloodthirsty, using the same weapons, and fighting each other on the same land.

No one can gain an absolute advantage; they can only rely on human lives to gradually build up the numbers.

"Retreat! A full retreat!"

At 3 p.m., the Soviet commander issued the order to retreat.

Despite having three times the manpower, the German army eventually broke through the Soviet defenses.

The surviving Soviet soldiers took turns providing cover as they withdrew from Hill 132, which had been reduced to scorched earth.

German soldiers cautiously advanced and captured the position, leaving only burning tank wreckage and corpses scattered on the ground.

……

Hans plopped down on a charred tree trunk, panting heavily.

His uniform was stained dark brown with blood and dirt, his face was covered in cigarette ash, and his arms were wrapped in thick bandages.

During the battle just now, he witnessed his best friend being shot in the chest by a Type 56 assault rifle that was exactly the same as the one he was holding.

"That's terrifying."

Karl sat down beside him, his voice hoarse: "Those Soviets had exactly the same weapons as us. I couldn't even tell which side was friendly and I almost shot the wrong person several times."

"Who can argue with that?"

Hans shook his head, still shaken: "Before, our submachine guns were better than theirs, our tanks were better than theirs, but now? Everyone's using the same stuff. This war is so frustrating."

After grumbling for a bit, Hans' stomach started growling.

He reached into his backpack and pulled out a square green bag, a smile finally appearing on his face.

"Thank goodness we still have this!"

"Is this the self-heating ration from the magical East?"

Karl's eyes lit up, and he leaned closer: "I heard that only elite troops get them, I didn't expect we'd get them too."

"Yes, the military has been unusually generous this time."

Hans skillfully tore open the packaging, pulled out the heating pack, and poured in a little water.

A few seconds later, the heating pack began to sizzle and steam, and a rich aroma of curry beef instantly filled the air, overpowering the smell of gunpowder and blood from the battlefield.

The heating was complete in just a few minutes.

Hans opened the lunchbox, which contained steaming hot curry beef rice, a small portion of stir-fried potatoes, and a braised egg.

The golden curry coating large chunks of beef looks incredibly appetizing.

"My God..." Karl swallowed hard. "This isn't just military rations, it's a feast! I rarely get to eat anything this good even at home in Berlin."

Hans picked up the spoon, scooped out a large mouthful, stuffed it into his mouth, and sighed contentedly.

The soft, sticky rice soaked up the curry broth, and the beef was stewed until tender and flavorful. One bite and most of your fatigue would disappear.

"It's so delicious! A million times better than those hard, dark breads that could kill someone, and those smelly canned peas!"

He wolfed down his food while mumbling, "Compared to this, the previous stuff was practically pig swill!"

"That ancient East is truly amazing; I must go and see it if I have the chance."

Karl took a bite of the food Hans handed him, his eyes widened instantly, and then he started eating it heartily without any regard for his image.

The two devoured the entire ration in no time, even licking the bottom of the lunchbox clean.

"That was awesome!" Karl let out a satisfied burp. "If I could eat this every day, I'd be willing to fight every day."

"Who can argue with that?"

Hans nodded, his face serious, and said, "I've made up my mind. From now on, I'll only eat this ration. If the military stops issuing me this, I won't fight!"

Karl paused for a moment, then laughed, "You wish! This kind of ration must be very expensive, right? How could the military possibly give it to us every day?"

Hans curled his lip, his face full of disdain: "Expensive? So what? Do you know how much occupation fee the Empire received from France?"

"A staggering billions of Reichsmarks! Worth thousands of tons of gold!"

"Those generals take the lion's share, live in mansions, and drink champagne. Don't they expect us soldiers who risk our lives on the front lines to eat something good too?"

He paused, then said firmly, "Besides, what is this little bit of money? Compared to thousands of tons of gold, this amount of money for food is nothing."

"As long as we can win the battle, the military has plenty of money."

"If they dare not give it to me, I'll be the first to quit!"

Karl thought for a moment, then nodded vigorously: "You're right! Why should they enjoy themselves in the rear while we risk our lives on the front lines and only get to eat black bread?"

"From now on, we'll unite. We won't go to the battlefield unless we're given these Eastern rations!"

The two smiled at each other and began to dream about the days when they could eat self-heating rations every day.

Not far away, more German soldiers also took out these green packaging bags.

In an instant, the entire battlefield was filled with the enticing aroma of food.

. . .

German frontline command post.

The sand table was covered with red and blue markers, the staff officers walked briskly, and the air was thick with tension.

A young officer strode forward, stood at attention, and reported:

"Report! Advances at the front are progressing smoothly. So far, we have advanced 37 kilometers, breached several Soviet lines, and are withdrawing in an orderly manner!"

"good!"

The colonel, seated at the head of the table, slammed his hand on the sand table, a look of delight on his face. "Truly worthy of being the Empire's elite! Maintain the offensive and give the Russians no chance to breathe!"

As soon as he finished speaking, another staff officer stepped forward with a troubled expression:

"Sir... there's more bad news. The Eastern individual rations previously distributed by the military have all been issued, and subsequent supplies have not yet arrived."

"If you don't have it, you don't have it. What's the big deal?"

The colonel waved his hand impatiently, his face full of disdain: "Is the Empire's canned beef really inferior to the rations from that poor and backward East?"

He had barely finished speaking when a lieutenant colonel opposite him shook his head with a wry smile:

"Sir, you can't say that... You probably haven't tasted it, but the rations are really something else."

The lieutenant colonel gestured behind him, and an orderly immediately stepped forward with an unopened green package, adding water and heating it in front of everyone according to the instructions.

Within minutes, an incredibly rich aroma of meat filled the command center, instantly overpowering the smell of coffee and cigars on the table.

The orderly opened the lunchbox, revealing steaming hot rice, large chunks of braised pork, and brightly colored side dishes, all neatly arranged, glistening with oil and emitting a fragrant aroma.

The entire command center fell silent instantly.

The officers stared wide-eyed, their faces filled with disbelief.

"You call this field rations?"