red moscow

Chapter 3109 Quick decision
Upon receiving the urgent notification, the two artillery observers rushed over without delay. They approached Yefim and asked, "Comrade Captain, what are your instructions?"

Yefim, with a serious expression, pointed to the German positions in the distance and said, "Comrades observers, you must immediately confirm the exact location of the enemy positions, and then quickly provide the artillery battalion in the rear with accurate firing parameters so that they can completely destroy the enemy's fortifications with artillery fire."

No sooner had Yefim finished speaking than Sokov, standing to the side, added urgently, his tone filled with urgency: "Comrade Observer, please speed things up! Our soldiers are under heavy machine gun fire and continuous mortar fire from the enemy, and casualties are increasing every minute. Only by transmitting firing parameters to the artillery battalion as quickly as possible can we minimize troop losses."

Without hesitation, two artillery observers climbed onto a nearby snowdrift and carefully observed the enemy's position through their binoculars. They calculated distances and rapidly processed coordinates, their movements practiced and focused. Taking advantage of this brief respite, Sokov turned to Yefim and decisively ordered, "Comrade Captain, please assemble your troops immediately and prepare for battle. Once our artillery has covered the enemy positions, launch an attack immediately; do not miss the opportunity."

Yefim nodded solemnly in response, "Understood, Comrade Brigade Commander. I will go and gather the troops and prepare for the attack." With that, he turned and strode away.

After Yefim left, Bobrikov approached Sokov and whispered a reminder: "Comrade Brigadier, this location is not safe. Enemy stray bullets and shells could strike again at any time. For your safety, it would be safer for us to move to another place as soon as possible."

Sokov pondered for a moment, recalling that the enemy had only fired one shell at this location before remaining silent. Clearly, the Germans hadn't prioritized this area, and the risk of staying put wasn't significant. More importantly, he could keep a close eye on the battlefield. So he waved his hand casually and said, "No need. I don't think the enemy will take any further action here. Staying might be the best option."

Seeing that Sokov was unwilling to find a place to hide, Bobrikov knew that further persuasion would be futile, so he said nothing more and turned to his men, signaling them to quickly form a tight circle, attempting to protect Sokov through this human wall. With the order given, the soldiers quickly formed a temporary barrier around Sokov.

Sokov frowned, his voice tinged with displeasure: "Comrade Captain, what are you doing? Surrounding me with so many people, are you trying to tell the Germans that there's an important person here, so they'll concentrate their artillery fire?"

Upon hearing Sokov's words, Bobrikov blushed and awkwardly explained, "Comrade Brigade Commander, I just wanted to protect your safety. After all, you are the highest commander here, and if anything were to happen to you..." Before he could finish speaking, Sokov interrupted him.

“There’s no need for that.” Sokov waved his hand, his tone firm and calm. “The enemy isn’t targeting this place. Their artillery fire is concentrated on the soldiers exchanging fire with them on the road. They won’t fire here intentionally. It should be safe for me to stay here and observe the situation. Doing so would only expose our position and increase unnecessary risks.”

While Sokov and Bobrikov were talking, explosions continued to erupt on the battlefield. The artillery observers had quickly calculated the approximate targets of the German positions, and one of them, in a hoarse voice, urgently transmitted the firing parameters to the rear via radio: "Azimuth 4-20, sights 583... High-explosive shells, instantaneous fuse, six rounds for the entire battalion, fire!"

Not long after, the whistling sound of shells tearing through the air filled the air as more than twenty shells slammed into the German positions. The ground trembled violently, followed by a series of muffled explosions, like giant hammers pounding the earth. Black mud, white snow, broken wood, shattered gun parts, and severed limbs were hurled into the grey sky by the blast waves.

Immediately following, a second wave of shells arrived, their impact points extending slightly forward, precisely covering the German machine gun positions that were wreaking havoc. Flames flickered in the rising smoke, turning that land into a raging, burning inferno.

In less than a minute, the artillery battalion behind the lines unleashed six fierce and rapid shelling volleys upon the German positions. Shells rained down like raindrops, the explosions deafening, blasting the snow-covered positions into a cloud of dust and smoke. The shelling had barely ceased, and the smoke had barely cleared, when a figure abruptly rose from the snow beside the road. Covered in snowflakes, he shouted in a voice that, while not particularly loud, was incredibly penetrating: "Comrades! Brothers! For the Motherland, advance!"

Even without binoculars, Sokov could recognize the man at a glance as Captain Yefim, the battalion commander. His shout was like a lit fuse; instantly, countless Soviet officers and soldiers sprang up from the silent snowfield. Like awakened lions, they roared and followed closely behind Yefim, surging like a tide towards the still burning and collapsing German positions.

The German soldiers, who had been suppressing the Soviet army with their superior fortifications not long ago, were completely stunned by this sudden and fierce artillery barrage. Many were still in shock in their collapsed bunkers, their ears ringing, their vision blurred, their faces covered in mud and blood. As they staggered and tried to organize a resistance, Soviet commanders and soldiers had already stepped over the collapsed breastworks, leaped over the still-smoking shell craters, and charged in with gleaming bayonets.

A German machine gunner struggled to his feet from the rubble of his collapsed bunker, attempting to set up his MG34 machine gun and fire at the charging Soviet troops. But Yefim, who had already reached them, reacted faster. He raised his TT-33 pistol and fired three shots in quick succession. The man fell beside the machine gun and never got up again.

After being bombarded by artillery fire, the once orderly German fortifications had been razed into a shattered maze, and the two sides engaged in fierce close-quarters combat amidst the ruins and scorched earth. Yefim nimbly moved between the trenches, shooting down two German soldiers who suddenly emerged from around a corner. But when a third enemy howled and charged at him, he pulled the trigger, only to hear a hollow click—he had run out of bullets.

Without hesitation, Yefim threw down his pistol, bent down to pick up an entrenching tool from the ground, and swung it fiercely at the enemy. The German soldier quickly dodged, the entrenching tool whistling as it carved deep into the trench wall. Just as Yefim tried to pull the tool out, the German soldier seized the opportunity and slammed his rifle butt into Yefim's lower back. Yefim groaned and fell heavily to the ground.

Seeing this, the German soldier grinned maliciously and turned his gun to aim at Yefim, who lay on the ground. Just as he was about to pull the trigger, a young Soviet soldier pounced from the side and plunged his Mosin-Nagant bayonet into the German soldier's back. Warm blood spurted out, staining the soldier's face red.

Yefim struggled to his feet despite the pain, nodded to the soldier, then bent down to pick up a fallen MP40 submachine gun and, without hesitation, pulled the trigger at a small group of German soldiers attempting a counterattack. The submachine gun spat fire, bullets whistling through the air, felling the entire group of enemies in the trench.

Half an hour later, the fierce and brutal battle finally came to an end. The German position, which had been carefully concealed, fell completely into the hands of the Soviet army.

As the smoke gradually dissipated, Sokov, escorted by Bobrikov and other guards, arrived at the battlefield where a life-or-death struggle had just taken place. What greeted his eyes was devastation: collapsed fortifications, scattered weapons, and corpses strewn about everywhere. Blood stained the surrounding snow, turning it a jarring dark red. Around the core German positions, which had been subjected to intense artillery fire, the snow had long since evaporated in the intense heat of the explosions, revealing scorched, blackened ground—a mottled, chaotic scene resembling a hellish landscape.

Sokov saw Yefim leading a group of soldiers, carefully searching among the ruins and corpses. They cautiously turned over the collapsed bunkers, occasionally bending down to call out—it was as if they were racing against time to find any surviving comrades, and also taking stock of the final price paid for this tragic victory.

(End of this chapter)