The 10-centimeter-diameter cannonballs, the size of a purple citrus, hit the snowpile more than a hundred meters away from the enemy formation.
Under the massive impact, the snowpile exploded instantly, with scattered snowflakes fluttering down.
"Who told you to fire?" The artillery captain shouted angrily, kicking the gunner who had fired in the buttocks.
Holding a long spear, Dieterbert dared not look around, pursing his lips, white steam spouting from his nostrils.
In the morning sun, the breath exhaled by the soldiers in the front row formed a white ribbon in the sunlight.
To onlookers, it seemed like an angry bull panting.
"Left, right, left, right, left, right..."
The wheels rolled over the snow, boots crushed the snow, and as the formation moved, it was a continuous crunching sound.
Dieterbert stepped forward mechanically, driven by muscle memory, feeling uneasy.
