Transmigrated as the Crown Prince

News of the riots in the United States quickly reached the Soviet Union.

"Comrade Stalin, I just received the news that a riot broke out in Detroit, Michigan, USA!" Beria came to Stalin's office and reported the incident.

"Oh?" Stalin, who was reviewing documents, heard the news and put down the pen in his hand, somewhat puzzled. "Does this have anything to do with us?" Although his body had not fully recovered, in this country's life-and-death crisis, Stalin naturally refused to waste time in the hospital bed and resumed work despite the doctor's dissuasion.

Beria replied cautiously. "I heard that the mastermind behind this riot is a certain party in the United States."

"What?!" Stalin was shocked. The whole world knew that certain parties in various countries were branches of the Third International. The Third International was founded under the leadership of Lenin and was headquartered in Moscow. Today's top leader is naturally Stalin. "Are they crazy?! What do they want to do?!" They actually started a riot at this juncture? Isn’t this a deliberate attempt to undermine relations between the Soviet Union and the United States? Will the Americans suspect that he gave the order? "Immediately issue a notice and ask them to stop this stupid behavior immediately."

Beria wiped the sweat from his face. "Comrade Stalin, I'm afraid it's too late. President Willkie has ordered the arrest of all members of the Party in the United States."

"These idiots!!" Stalin cursed angrily. He didn't know whether he was cursing a certain party in the United States or President Wilkie. "Did the Americans suppress the riot?"

"I heard that the initial riots caused a lot of casualties to the local police, and then the governor of Michigan sent out the National Guard. However, there were also heavy casualties, and the Americans have already sent regular troops."

"These people are so powerful in fighting?" He thought it was an ordinary working class riot. How come even the National Guard was beaten back? After frowning and thinking for a while, Starlin spoke. "Send a telegram to President Wilkie in my name to indicate that this matter has nothing to do with us. Someone must be obstructing it. Uh, Germans, yes, this must be a German conspiracy! As for those arrested Comrade, don’t mention it for now, we’ll talk about it later.”

"yes!"

The U.S. military sent two companies of paratroopers to descend on the Detroit City Hall to rescue the hostages. However, they were caught off guard by the fireworks on the ground. Many paratroopers lost the support of their parachutes and fell directly from high altitude to the ground. They died in a terrible state. Horrible. The remaining paratroopers also became live targets for the armed personnel on the ground, shooting one at a time.

Looking at the fireworks show that suddenly broke out in the city center in the distance, Major General Robert, the commander of the 71st Division assembled outside the city, frowned slightly.

The adjutant next to him asked doubtfully. "Are they attacking our paratroopers? Who came up with this?!"

"It seems that the operation to rescue the hostages has failed." With a sigh, Major General Robert gave the order to attack.

Small groups of U.S. troops entered the city under the cover of armored vehicles.

Behind the window of a building, two white men were gesticulating at the cautiously advancing American soldiers in the distance. One of the middle-aged men was holding a telescope, while the other man was holding an M1903 Springfield sniper rifle. Although equipped with a scope, bolt-action rifles like this during World War II were basically improved by selecting high-quality products from ordinary rifles. The mechanism design is no different from ordinary rifles.

The man holding the Springfield sniper rifle decisively pulled the trigger. As the gun went off, an American soldier in the distance fell to the ground.

This was like poking a hornet's nest. A few seconds later, a large number of bullets were fired in this direction. Fortunately, after one shot was fired, the two quickly left the room, ran downstairs, and slipped out through the back door.

"Haha, these Americans are in trouble."

"The bosses are really foresighted in coming up with such a clever way to create trouble for the Americans."

On the other side, looking at the soldiers who had obviously died on the ground, the captain leading the team looked very ugly. "Go in and search, arrest anyone suspicious! If there is resistance, shoot to death!"

But when they passed the entrance of an alley, the captain felt his eyelids twitching. He subconsciously looked to the side of the alley and saw a figure flashing at the end of the more than 20-meter-long alley, carrying a long round stick on his shoulder. Something is pointed here.

"Ba, bazooka!" The captain recognized what the guy was carrying on his shoulders at a glance, but before he finished speaking, the man had already pulled the trigger.

The speeding rocket accurately hit the not-so-thick side armor of the M3 tank and exploded with a bang. The metal heat flow easily burned through the armor, successfully penetrated into the tank, and instantly detonated the tank. The shock wave of the explosion blew off the turret, and the crew inside was dead. The American soldiers following the tank also suffered many casualties.

"Quick! Chase!" The captain, who was thrown to the ground by the shock wave of the explosion, gave the order angrily. A group of soldiers rushed into the alley and chased them to the corner of the alley. They saw several black guns pointed at them on the opposite side. here.

Chuchuchu!

These Thompson submachine guns are equipped with a huge drum with a capacity of 100 rounds for ammunition. The rate of fire is as high as 1,500 rounds per minute. The 100-round drum is used up in 4 seconds. The U.S. soldiers who swarmed under such a dense rain of bullets fell down like mowing grass before they had time to react. By the time the soldiers behind them came over, the thugs had long disappeared, and they looked at the dozens of bodies on the ground. Really, the Captain was on the verge of tears.

Listening to the casualty reports that followed, Major General Robert frowned deeply. These are not ordinary thugs, they are simply more regular than the regular army. "They actually have bazookas! How did these get into their hands?!"

The adjutant next to him scratched his head. "These weapons must have flowed into the black market."

"Do these bastards dare to buy or sell anything?!"

The adjutant smiled bitterly. "Isn't that what the black market is like? As long as you can afford the price, you can get even the president's life. And this kind of bazooka rocket can't deal with German tanks, and even the Soviets don't like it. If they can be piled up in the arsenal, some logistics guy might have secretly taken them out and sold them on the black market."

"Can't deal with the German tanks? Now it's better to blow up our own tanks one by one!" Major General Robert gritted his teeth with hatred. "These bastards are just a bunch of scum! Worms!!" Unfortunately, no matter how he cursed, the battle still had to continue. Without knowing how many powerful weapons like bazooka the other party had, they could only fight more cautiously and steadily. Take every step of the way.

In this way, they were unable to advance even 100 meters throughout the day.