red moscow

Chapter 3116

As the order was given, a dozen or so newly erected Maxim heavy machine guns and rotary machine guns roared into action, unleashing a fierce barrage of fire at the distant German tanks and armored vehicles. For machine gun bullets to penetrate the armor of a tank or armored vehicle hundreds of meters away was nothing short of a pipe dream; at best, the bullets would only create fleeting sparks against the steel surface. Yet, every machine gunner continued to frantically pull the trigger, their guns spitting flames of vengeance. They knew perfectly well that their true mission was not destruction, but drawing enemy fire—every extra second, every extra bullet, if it could divert enemy fire to them, would reduce the threat to their comrades on the offensive.

Just as the machine gun crew was risking exposure and firing with all their might, more than twenty Soviet soldiers leaped out of the snow and immediately rushed down the slope at top speed. The snow was deep, sinking to their knees with every step, but they ran for their lives. After all, on this exposed snowfield, under such intense crossfire from the Germans, every second meant death, and every breath could be their last.

The German troops quickly spotted the Soviet commanders and soldiers rushing down the slope, and some machine guns and infantry fire immediately turned towards them. A dense hail of bullets swept across the area like scythes, causing snow dust to erupt and form patches of cold mist in the sunlight. As the soldiers slid rapidly down the slope, more and more were hit; muffled groans and short screams were drowned out by the gunfire. One after another, figures collapsed in their high-speed run, tumbling helplessly down the snow-covered slope, leaving long, gruesome trails of blood behind them.

Nazorov crouched at his command post, his eyes bloodshot as he watched the scene unfold before him. Seeing his soldiers, some he knew, some he didn't, fall one after another into pools of blood, his heart ached. But he gritted his teeth, refusing to order a retreat. He knew that turning back now would mean becoming easy targets; only by continuing forward, by charging into the inferno of death with his own flesh and blood, could he possibly find a glimmer of hope.

Soon, those soldiers who had bravely charged down the slope fell one after another like felled ears of wheat under the enemy's dense machine gun fire and tank artillery barrage; not a single one survived. On the smoke-filled battlefield, the deputy battalion commander crawled back to Nazorov's side, his face covered in mud and sweat, his voice hoarse with anxiety: "Comrade Battalion Commander, our men... all of them have been killed. What should we do now?"

"What else can we do?!" Nazorov whirled around, his bloodshot eyes glaring at the deputy battalion commander, his voice almost a growl. "Are we just going to cower in the trenches and wait to die? We must launch another attack—we must destroy those tanks and armored vehicles!"

“But, Battalion Commander!” The deputy battalion commander’s voice was filled with barely suppressed worry. “The two anti-tank teams sent by the First Battalion… were all killed in the first wave of the attack. None of our soldiers know how to use the rocket launchers they left behind! Even if someone manages to get to the tanks… it’s just suicide.”

Nazorov's face darkened instantly. He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. He hadn't expected that the professional anti-tank force sent as reinforcements would be completely wiped out on their very first mission. And those rocket launchers left behind at the bottom of the slope were practically useless scrap metal to those of them who had never handled rocket launchers before.

He fell into a brief silence, pondering his next move. After a long while, he took a deep breath and signaled to the radio operator to contact Sokov at the rear.

"Comrade Captain!" came Sokov's relaxed voice from the other end of the receiver. "How's it going on your end? Have you dealt with the enemy tanks?"

“Comrade Brigade Commander…” Nazorov’s voice dropped noticeably, and a hint of barely concealed guilt could be heard. “The enemy’s tanks and armored vehicles are parked three to four hundred meters away, suppressing us with tank guns and machine guns. The distance is too great; rocket launchers simply can’t penetrate them… I just sent out an anti-tank team to try to get closer, but they… were all killed.”

"What? Both teams sent by the First Battalion... have been lost?" Sokov's tone suddenly turned serious. He turned to look at Yefim beside him. "What about the rocket launchers they brought?"

“They’ve all been left down the slope,” Nazorov’s voice grew increasingly embarrassed. “None of us know how to operate that kind of equipment. Comrade Brigade Commander, I request… could you please ask the 1st Battalion to send another anti-tank team to support us? Otherwise, we… can’t continue this battle.”

Yefim overheard the conversation between Sokov and Nazorov and asked in surprise, "What? My two anti-tank teams were all lost so quickly?" Sokov nodded to Yefim and then said, "Captain Yefim, because the enemy tanks were parked too far from our positions, the two anti-tank teams of your 3rd Battalion, which were supporting the 3rd Battalion, were all killed in action while trying to approach the enemy tanks under heavy fire."

Yefim, confirming that his two most elite anti-tank teams had been completely wiped out, wore a pained expression. Sokov, unable to offer comfort, continued, "Captain Nazarov, what are your plans now?"

“Comrade Brigade Commander, the Germans are very cunning,” Nazorov replied. “They are stationed at a distance and firing continuously with tank cannons and machine guns, causing us constant casualties. Therefore, I intend to continue sending men out to attack, and destroy the enemy’s tanks and armored vehicles at all costs.”

Sokov knew that Nazorov's actions would result in heavy casualties among the soldiers on anti-tank missions, but given the current situation, he had no choice but to proceed despite the risks.

Just as Sokov was about to agree to their proposal, a voice called "Report!" from behind him. He turned around, and upon seeing who it was, his face immediately lit up with joy: "Captain Lomonsov, you've arrived!"

"Yes, Comrade Brigade Commander!" It was Captain Lomonsov, the artillery battalion commander, who replied respectfully, "The artillery battalion has come on orders. Please assign us your tasks."

"Captain Lomonsov, you've come at the right time." Sokov pointed to the smoke-filled slope in the distance and said, "When we captured the village, a German armored company came to our aid, and the 3rd Battalion is holding them off on the hillside."

Lomonsov glanced in that direction and then asked, "Comrade Brigade Commander, are you planning to send our battalion to support the Third Battalion?"

“That’s right, that’s what I’m thinking,” Sokov continued. “The enemy’s tanks and armored vehicles are parked a few hundred meters from the 3rd Battalion’s position, firing at them relentlessly with tank guns and machine guns, causing them considerable casualties. I hope you can deploy artillery on the slope as soon as possible to destroy the enemy’s tanks from a high vantage point.”

“Yes, Comrade Brigade Commander.” Lomonsov nodded vigorously. “I will personally lead the men over there.”

Sokov spoke into the microphone: "Captain Nazorov, did you hear that? Artillery Battalion Commander Captain Lomonsov will personally lead his men to set up artillery positions on the slope, destroying enemy tanks and armored vehicles from a high vantage point."

"That's wonderful, that's wonderful!" Nazorov exclaimed, tears welling up in his eyes. "With the help of our artillery comrades, we will definitely be able to destroy this German armored company."

(End of this chapter)