red moscow

Chapter 3108 Attacked
Sokov slowly lowered his binoculars, his gaze still fixed on the distance, but he remained silent. A nameless unease quietly rose within him. This operation had gone far too smoothly; the speed of the troops' advance and the minimal resistance far exceeded his expectations. It didn't feel like a fierce battle at all; rather, it resembled a well-organized long-distance training exercise. This unusual success made him vaguely uneasy.

"Comrade Brigade Commander!" Captain Yefim, standing behind Sokov, sounded anxious. He spoke again, his tone urgent: "I still believe that the enemy's morale has collapsed, their fighting spirit is broken, and they have lost their will to fight. They are simply incapable of putting up any decent resistance. If we don't advance quickly, they may very well retreat across the board and disappear without a trace!"

"Speed ​​up, speed up..." Sokov repeated Yefim's words twice, his voice revealing obvious impatience and irritation. He turned around, looked at Yefim sternly, and pointed to the advancing troops. "Look at yourself, how loose your soldiers' formation has become! In this state, if we suddenly encounter a counterattack from the enemy, can you guarantee that you can establish an effective defense in the shortest possible time?"

Perhaps because the brigade commander's tone was more stern than usual, Yefim was momentarily speechless, his face showing some unease, unsure of how to respond.

After a brief silence, Sokov softened his tone slightly, his gaze still grave as he looked at Yefim, and said, “Comrade Captain, I understand your eagerness for battle, but you must not let that lead you to underestimate the enemy. What you should do now is immediately slow down the advance of your troops. This serves two purposes: first, to allow the soldiers to quickly return to their original formations and restore the command structure, so that even if we suddenly engage the enemy, we can organize a counterattack in an orderly manner; second, to shorten the gap between your battalion and the Third Battalion, maintain a tight overall front line, and avoid being divided and encircled by the enemy through gaps.”

His words had barely faded when a rapid and intense burst of gunfire erupted in the distance. It wasn't sporadic shooting, but a continuous, overwhelming barrage of fire. The MG34 general-purpose machine gun, with its distinctive high-frequency firing, roared like a thick rag being torn apart, unleashing a chilling roar from the dense forest on either side of the road without warning. The dense bullets instantly wove together into a scorching and deadly net of fire, felling hordes of unsuspecting Soviet soldiers on their march, their blood instantly staining the snow crimson.

Almost at the same moment the machine gun roared, an even deeper and more rhythmic "thump! thump!" sound faintly came from afar.

Sokov's heart sank. Experience told him that it was the distinctive firing sound of the German 81mm mortars. Immediately afterward, a sharp whistling sound ripped through the sky, approaching from afar, carrying with it a chilling aura of death.

boom! boom! boom!
A series of explosions erupted violently through the marching column, scorching flames and thick smoke shooting into the sky. Snow, frozen earth, shattered weapons, and human remains were blasted everywhere, only to crash heavily back to the ground. The acrid smell of gunpowder and the pungent stench of blood quickly filled the air. Screams, cries, desperate curses and prayers mingled with the deafening roar of gunfire, creating a cruel and chaotic symphony of hell.

Yefim, who had just been so confident and asserted that the enemy had long since fled, watched helplessly as his troops suffered casualties under such a sudden and fierce attack. He stood there, stunned, as if struck by lightning. He stared blankly at his commanders and soldiers within the range of the fire, running around like headless flies, struggling and falling amidst shrapnel and flashes of fire. His mind went blank, and he was at a loss for what to do.

"Yefim, what are you doing?!" Sokov was furious when he saw Yefim not only fail to act quickly but also stand there dumbfounded, as if he had lost his mind. He roared at Yefim with all his might, "What are you standing there for? Gather our troops immediately and organize a counterattack! We can't let the enemy continue to be so arrogant!"

Just then, recruit Gobi keenly sensed the shrieking sound coming from the sky. His face changed drastically, and without hesitation, he shouted, "Get down!" He then rushed up the snowdrift and tackled the still-roaring Sokov to the ground.

Just as the two men fell, a mortar shell whistled down from the sky and exploded violently not far from them. The massive shockwave whipped up a cloud of snow and mist, and shrapnel flying everywhere instantly struck several soldiers who couldn't get out of the way in time, with screams and thuds echoing as they fell to the ground.

Yefim felt a burning sting on his cheek as a shrapnel fragment tore a deep gash in his face. Warm blood immediately gushed from the wound, trickling down his cold cheek and dripping onto the pristine snow, spreading into glaring crimson patches. He instinctively clutched his bleeding wound, his gaze fixed on the distant German positions, his eyes burning with rage and deep hatred. His mind raced, desperately trying to devise an effective strategy to rally his troops, organize a powerful counterattack, and annihilate the enemy who had launched this surprise attack.

Sokov struggled to his feet in the snow, brushed the snow off his clothes, and turned to Gobi first, thanking him solemnly, "Thank you, Gobi, you saved my life." He was about to give Yefim further instructions when he suddenly noticed blood flowing from the man's face. His heart tightened, and he hurriedly shouted, "Medic! Medic! Come quick, someone's injured!"

The first to arrive at the scene before the medic was the guard company commander, Bobrikov. He had clearly heard the explosion and, seeing Sokov crouching nearby, assumed his brigade commander had been wounded in the shelling. He rushed over, asking urgently, "Comrade Brigade Commander, how are you? Are you wounded?" Sokov immediately realized Bobrikov's misunderstanding and quickly waved his hand, then pointed to Yefim sitting nearby, explaining hastily, "No, it wasn't me. Captain Yefim was wounded. Where's the medic? Why hasn't he arrived yet?"

"Coming, coming!" Just then, a male medic carrying a medical kit rushed over. Sweat beaded on his forehead from running so fast, and he was slightly out of breath. He looked at Sokov and asked, "Comrade Brigade Commander, are you wounded? Where are you wounded?"

Faced with almost the same question, Sokov couldn't help but give a wry smile. He pointed to Yefim again and said in a slightly hurried tone, "It's not me, it's Captain Yefim, the battalion commander! Quickly treat his wound and stop the bleeding as soon as possible!"

While the medic knelt down to clean Yefim's wound, Sokov turned and called over the accompanying radio operator. His expression grave, he ordered, "Radio operator, establish contact with brigade headquarters immediately. I want to speak with the chief of staff personally!"

The radio operator sprang into action, crouching down to adjust the radio frequency and continuously calling out the brigade headquarters' call sign. Sokov, meanwhile, raised his binoculars again, peering towards the area of ​​intense gunfire and raging battle. He saw that the commanders and soldiers, initially thrown into disarray by the ambush, were gradually regaining their composure—many were using the terrain to lie prone or using snowdrifts as cover, returning fire at the German machine gun positions. A few soldiers, undeterred by the danger, bravely charged the enemy, but outnumbered and lacking sufficient firepower and tactical coordination, they all succumbed to the concentrated German fire.

Not long after, the radio operator looked up and reported, "Comrade Brigade Commander, we have made contact with the brigade headquarters. You can speak with the Chief of Staff at any time." As he spoke, he handed over the headset and microphone.

Sokov took the communications equipment, put on the headset, and reported clearly and forcefully into the microphone: "Chief of Staff? This is Sokov. The 1st Battalion and I were ambushed by the Germans while advancing. The 1st Battalion has suffered some casualties. You should immediately contact the artillery battalion and have them provide artillery support for the 1st Battalion to wipe out this damned enemy."

"Comrade Brigade Commander!" Karsokov asked tentatively after Sokov finished speaking, "Where is the artillery observer of the First Battalion located?"

When formulating the operational plan, in order to strengthen the coordination between infantry and artillery in combat, Sokov, Belkin, and Karsokov discussed and decided to equip each battalion with two artillery observers. In this way, no matter which battalion needed artillery support, the artillery observers could provide artillery support to the artillery in the rear.

"Yefim!" Sokov shouted at Yefim, who was not far away, "Where is your battalion's artillery observer?"

Yefim, who was receiving treatment from a medic, heard Sokov's shout, immediately pushed aside the medic blocking his way, and said to Sokov, "Comrade Brigade Commander, I'll send someone to find them right away."

"Hurry up!" Sokov urged. "Captain, you must remember that every minute on the battlefield is precious. The sooner the artillery observers provide the artillery with firing parameters, the sooner we can eliminate these damned enemies."

(End of this chapter)