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Meanwhile the Finnish AT rifle opened up and hit the lead T26, whose armour barely held. However the crew was mightily distracted as rivets flew around their compartment, and did nothig mor of note in the fight. After hitting with the ATR my daughter Anna tried her hand with the mortar, rolling two on 2d6, which was what she needed to hit. The round fell in the middle of the Red LMG team that had disembarked from their sleigh and hobbled forward on their frostbitten feet.
At this point, poor Yuri finally woke up. He lifted his head, murmuring in a weak voice, "Svetlana, darlink, would you put the samovar on, there's a ninotchka?" The Finnish sergeant hauling on one his legs looked back at this, and Yuri wondered why he was looking into a sweaty, hairy face, when a stray Moisin Nagant round entered the back of Yuri's skull and he expired heroically. The Finnish sergeant shrugged, grabbed the camera, abandoned the pilot's corpse and ran like hell for the treeline.