red moscow

Chapter 3112

Just as Sokov had predicted, when the attacking troops were only a hundred meters from the village, the silent village suddenly came to life, as if a sleeping beast had been awakened. The German soldiers hiding in the wooden houses and the snowdrifts beside them began to fire wildly, bullets raining down and breaking the tranquility of the snowfield.

The soldiers were pinned down in the snow by intense fire, barely able to lift their heads. Bullets whizzed into the snow around them, kicking up puffs of snow mist, and the icy snowflakes stung their faces, bringing a bone-chilling cold. The air was thick with the smell of gunpowder and blood, and every breath was filled with tension and fear.

In addition to the frantic firing of machine guns, rifles, and submachine guns, the two mortars deployed by the Germans behind the wooden huts also opened fire. Sporadic shells landed among the Soviet soldiers' ranks, and almost every explosion was accompanied by piercing screams, meaning that one or more soldiers had been killed or wounded by the shells.

The company commander, hiding in the snow, frowned deeply. He saw a young soldier lying beside him, his body trembling violently, his teeth chattering, clearly terrified. He quickly lowered his voice to comfort the man: "Comrade, don't be afraid. Stay where you are, keep your head down, that way the enemy's bullets won't hit you." His voice was calm, but his heart was burning with anxiety.

Then, he turned to the soldiers around him and shouted, "Return fire! Suppress the enemy's firepower! We can't let them be so arrogant!" After saying that, he picked up his assault rifle, aimed at the window of the wooden house with the heaviest firepower, and pulled the trigger. The gunshot rang out, and the recoil made his shoulder go numb, but he gritted his teeth and fired continuously.

At his shout, a rotary machine gun and several assault rifles nearby began to return fire. Bullets struck the walls of the wooden hut, scattering countless splinters of wood with a crackling sound. Although they couldn't inflict fatal damage on the enemy inside immediately, they successfully drew some of the German fire, buying their comrades a brief respite.

Seeing that the enemy's firepower had been suppressed, the female medics, who had been at the rear of the column, bravely crawled forward through the hail of bullets, trying to treat the wounded lying in the snow, groaning in pain. Their figures moved with difficulty across the snow, their medical kits standing out starkly against the white expanse.

A female medic named Jeanne crawled to the side of a wounded soldier, injured by a mortar shell. The soldier groaned in pain, his blood staining the snow. Ignoring the danger, Jeanne crouched down and quickly unbuttoned the soldier's overcoat to bandage him. But just then, a burst of machine gun fire swept through, and she collapsed to the ground, the snow beneath her quickly turning red. Her eyes remained open, as if telling a story of an unfinished mission.

The company commander stared at his comrade struggling in agony in the snow, blood gushing from his wounds, and at the motionless medic Jeanne lying beside him. An indescribable surge of anger and grief overwhelmed him. His hands trembled, his teeth grinding together. "Bastard!" he roared, leaping to his feet and, disregarding his own safety, furiously pulling the trigger of his assault rifle at the flames-spitting window! Bullets whistled through the air, his roar echoing across the battlefield, as if tearing apart the cruel reality.

The machine gun fire from the cabin window actually paused for a moment, though only for a second or two, as if suppressed by something invisible. But after only two or three seconds, the machine gun roared again, and bullets rained down like raindrops.

As the company commander, having run out of ammunition, lay back down to reload, a soldier carrying a rocket launcher seized the opportunity. He bravely stood up, his movements swift and decisive; he aimed at the wooden house and pulled the trigger. The rocket launcher roared, and a plume of white smoke shot from the tube, tearing through the cold air and hissing towards the house. The rocket accurately entered the house through a window, followed by a deafening explosion. The shockwave shook the entire house, and smoke and flames billowed from the windows, scattering debris everywhere.

Amidst the billowing smoke, two German soldiers stumbled out of a house, their uniforms stained with dust and blood. They ran towards the village, their faces filled with terror and despair. But they hadn't gone far when they were struck by bullets from behind. They collapsed onto the snow, their bright red blood quickly staining the pristine white, and they lay motionless.

Standing at the edge of the forest observing the battle, Sokov frowned slightly upon witnessing the scene unfolding on the battlefield. He pondered whether he should send the artillery battalion to accompany the vanguard. Doing so would allow the artillery to provide immediate fire support to the attacking forces, using direct fire to destroy enemy strongpoints and reduce casualties. However, this would also expose the artillery battalion to enemy fire, requiring careful weighing of the pros and cons.

"Comrade Brigade Commander!" Just then, Battalion Commander Nazorov came up to Sokov. He first glanced at the village where the battle was taking place in the distance, frowned slightly, and then asked Sokov, "When can our battalion go up? The soldiers are eager to get into battle."

“Third Battalion Commander, what’s going on?” Before Sokov could answer, Yefim spoke to Nazorov with displeasure, his tone impatient, as if he had been offended. “Can’t you see our battalion is fighting the Germans? It won’t be long before we storm the village and wipe out the enemy entrenched there. I think your battalion should stay here and behave as a reserve force, and not cause any trouble.”

Ignoring Yefim, Nazorov looked at Sokov and continued, his eyes revealing determination and a plea: "Comrade Brigade Commander, as far as I know, the First Battalion fought the Germans before attacking the village, and they may have already exhausted their ammunition and strength. I think they should rest now, and the task of attacking the village should be left to our Third Battalion. Although our battalion has traveled a long way, our soldiers are in high spirits and can immediately join the battle."

Sokov was pleased to see Nazorov so eager for battle. He looked at him and said with a smile, "Comrade Captain, your battalion has just traveled such a long distance, and the officers and soldiers must be exhausted. Let them rest for a while and recover their strength. If the First Battalion's attack doesn't go well and they can't capture this village, I'll send your battalion up again. What do you think? This way, we can ensure the continuity of the offensive and avoid unnecessary losses."

“I think the brigade commander is right,” Yefim chimed in eagerly as soon as Sokov finished speaking, his voice rising slightly with a hint of smugness. “Your battalion has traveled such a long way, the officers and soldiers are exhausted. They should rest here, have some water, and check their equipment. As for the task of capturing the village, our battalion is fully capable of completing it; we don’t need anyone else’s help.” Facing the confidence in Yefim’s tone, Sokov nodded slightly, his gaze returning to the distant battlefield, continuing to plan the next tactical deployment.

(End of this chapter)