Battle of the Third Reich Chapter 491: The death of the leader (part 2)
The Italian hand grenade has a special feature, that is, if the safety plug is not completely pulled out, it can be restored by simply inserting it back into place.
Mussolini and Badoglio both knew this, so they immediately inserted the safety lock and fastened the safety cover again. As long as it was not thrown out again, the grenade was in a very safe state.
Mussolini is holding this grenade and showing it to the people around it, as if showing a beautiful souvenir. At this moment, he tried his best to act like a fearless tough guy, so as to offset the panicked image before.
The Italian dictator raised his chin high and glanced at the panicked people around him with contempt. Photojournalists hurriedly surrounded the past and scrambled to capture the scene before him. The title of the photo is already thought out. The Italian prime minister despise death, just like the heroes of ancient Rome.
"Only the most cowardly nasty things would choose to assassinate this method." Mussolini shouted.
"Italian people, as you see now. They chose the wrong method. They don’t want to use this method to defeat me, and don’t want to make me feel scared. Let these clowns who are incompetent Shake in a dark corner. I will pull them out one by one from their hiding hole, expose them to the sun, and then use leather boots to crush them to death like insects." Mussolini said The grenade was handed to the guard standing by the car, and then he waved his arm vigorously.
"No one can defeat Mussolini! I am the leader of Italy! My people love me! Only traitors and conspirators want to kill me!" Mussolini yelled. The surrounding black-shirts uttered an agreeable voice.
"Long live Mussolini!" a black shirt soldier shouted.
"Long live! Our leader! Long live! Mussolini!" An arm was erected around the Italian Prime Minister.
"Hurray! Italy!" Mussolini raised his right arm in return. He was extremely satisfied with his performance this time.
But in the next second, a cloud of blood burst out from the middle of Mussolini's collar, black shirt scraps and bright red blood beads splashed in the air, and then the Italian prime minister was in full view. , Fell into the cabin of the convertible.
The murderer was a teenage boy. He was wearing a somewhat large Montenegrin army shirt. He got close to Mussolini in the Montenegrin army and shot him at a distance of only two meters from the Prime Minister. .
He uses a single-shot craft pistol with the size of a palm. Most of this exquisite weapon is handmade by private individuals. It was once popular among Italian ladies and ladies. They could hide it in small Small handbags are used to defend themselves in accidents. However, in order to facilitate the operation of women, this weapon has a small caliber and only one or two ammunition, so most of the time it can only serve as a deterrent.
The young man was holding one of them, with a caliber of only five millimeters, but because the shooting distance was too close, the bullet did not cut its kinetic energy at all, and it opened precisely on Mussolini’s throat. A hole.
The boy opened his mouth and seemed to want to yell some slogan, but before he yelled the second letter, he was thrown to the ground by a group of soldiers from the Montenegrin Legion next to him. Furious punches and kicks.
Mussolini's limp body was curled up in the back of the car, his head just resting on Bagdoglio's knee. The marshal felt a warm liquid wet his trousers, and it was still running down his calf toward the floor.
The Supreme Imperial Marshal of Italy was completely stunned. He looked at Mussolini lying on his lap with a blank face, feeling every struggle and painful gasp of each other, Bagdoglio was not at this moment. I know what happened, and I don't know how to react.
An entourage wearing the uniform of an Italian army lieutenant colonel jumped into the car. He grabbed Mussolini's shoulders and removed him from the marshal's legs, and then took Mussolini's body. Re-righted and carefully checked the Prime Minister’s injuries.
"The bullet penetrated Mussolini's trachea and esophagus, almost hitting the back spine." Weierle reported to Xu Jun.
"The injury examined for him is our person, so we know the details of the injury. Mussolini failed to make it to the hospital, so he swallowed his last breath on the road. In fact, he died of it. Asphyxiation, how to say that sentence, drowned in his own blood. Because there was no rescue equipment at the scene, the blood flowed into his trachea and blocked his breathing. It only takes 30 seconds." Erle patted his palms back and forth.
"I have seen many similar gunshot wounds on the battlefield. If you are lucky enough to meet an experienced military doctor, you have a 30% chance of surviving, but the lucky ones are always very few, most of them I didn't get through, this kind of death is very tragic." Von Bok said, holding his cheek in his hand.
"He shouldn't die like this. I don't mean that he shouldn't die, but as a national leader like him, he died of such a despicable assassination." Weirler's mouth showed a strange smile.
"Second lieutenant, you go drive...take us out of here!" The lieutenant colonel held Mussolini's body and shouted to a guard who was at a loss by the car.
"Yes, sir." The second lieutenant reacted. He quickly saluted the lieutenant colonel in the back seat, then opened the driver's door and dragged the dead driver out of the driver's seat.
"Go to the street and turn right." The lieutenant colonel ordered.
"Don't go back to the prime minister's residence? Sir!" The ensign turned his head in surprise.
"You are crazy, the assassin will most likely arrange an ambush on our way back." the lieutenant colonel shouted.
"The Prime Minister is seriously injured and requires immediate surgery. Do you know where the nearest hospital is?"
"Yes, sir!"
"Then take us immediately!" The lieutenant colonel yelled, clutching the wound on Mussolini's throat.
The Fiat convertible sounded continuously, and with the help of a group of black shirts and guards, it rushed out of the crowd and drove into the street next to the palace.
"How is his situation." Badoglio seemed to have just woken up from the panic, and he looked at the lieutenant colonel nervously.
"The bullet penetrated the esophagus and may also scratch the trachea. Fortunately, it did not hurt the aorta. If he can continue to stay awake and breathe spontaneously, and we can rush to the hospital in time, he has a lot of The chance will survive." The lieutenant colonel pressed Mussolini's wound with his hand.
At this time, the Italian leader is dying, his mouth is full of blood, and it is still flowing out of the corner of his mouth, but he can still breathe through his nose. The breathing rate is a bit rapid, and his mind seems to be maintained. wide awake.
The Italian dictator seemed to want to say something at the moment, but all he made was a puppy-like whimper, the bullet hole in his throat was still losing a lot of blood, and pink foam came out of the finger joints pressing the wound.
"Did you guys do it?" Badoglio asked in a low voice, using a bit blunt German.
"If I said it wasn't us, would you believe it? Your Excellency Marshal." The lieutenant colonel replied in German.
"I know you will definitely get rid of him~IndoMTL.com~ but I didn't expect it to be so fast." Badoglio said.
"We didn't do it, Marshal, we won't use such crude and direct means, it's not beautiful at all." The lieutenant colonel released his hand pressing the wound and put Mussolini's own hand on it.
"Hold the wound hard, you can hold on for half an hour." Lieutenant Colonel said in Mussolini's ear.
"Then what's going on." Badoglio felt despised, and he asked in a small angrily.
"He has too many enemies, and I don't know which side he made, but it's not bad now. It saves us a lot of hands and feet." The lieutenant colonel turned his face and looked at Bagdoglio.
"What do you mean by that." The marshal's expression became tense again.
"That's what it means." The lieutenant colonel stretched out **** and pinched Mussolini's nose.
The dictator's eyes widened in horror. The blood loss and lack of oxygen made him lose resistance. Mussolini tried to breathe, but couldn't breathe in any air.
So the viscous blood in the mouth was sucked into the trachea, Mussolini immediately began to twitch violently. At first he could swing his arm and struggle twice, but soon lost consciousness due to suffocation, at the highest point. Under the horrified gaze of the Imperial Marshal, the Italian dictator finally kicked his right leg hard, and then stopped breathing forever.
"Look, dear marshal, as I said, there is no beauty at all." The lieutenant colonel let go of Mussolini's nose and wiped it on the sleeve of Badoglio. Fingers stained with blood.
ps: Things went well. I finally don’t have to ask for leave today. I will update it at normal time. Ask for monthly pass, recommend, click and subscribe.
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