red moscow

Chapter 3117

“Comrade Deputy Battalion Commander!” Nazorov said to the deputy battalion commander as soon as he finished his call with Sokov, his tone tinged with pride: “The brigade commander told me that he will soon send artillery over to set up artillery positions on the slope and destroy the German tanks and armored vehicles from a high vantage point. This is the good news we have been waiting for.”

Hearing Nazorov say this, the deputy battalion commander was overjoyed, and a long-lost smile appeared on his face. He then asked, "Shall we continue to send men out? The soldiers are ready and waiting for your orders."

“There’s no need for that.” Nazorov waved his hand and said firmly, “Once the artillery is up there, those German tanks and armored vehicles will be no threat. What we need to do now is to keep our officers and soldiers in hiding and minimize unnecessary casualties.”

"Yes, Battalion Commander." The deputy battalion commander nodded and said, "I will immediately relay your order to the soldiers to take cover and reduce unnecessary casualties."

Not long after the deputy battalion commander left, Nazorov suddenly heard the roar of tank engines, deep and continuous, like the howl of a wild beast. At first, he thought the German tanks were preparing to advance towards the slope, and his heart began to race. But after careful observation, he found that the tanks and armored vehicles were still stationary, and the sound was coming from the forest to the northeast of the slope.

A sergeant lying next to Nazarov had obviously heard the sound as well. He turned around, his brow furrowed, and said to Nazarov, "Comrade Battalion Commander, did you hear that? There seems to be the roar of tank engines coming from the forest to the northeast. The sound is getting closer and closer. Could it be that more German tanks are arriving? Could this be their new reinforcements?"

Nazorov's face turned ashen and his palms sweated slightly upon hearing this, but he couldn't show panic in front of his subordinates, so he could only put on a brave face and said calmly, "Sergeant, don't worry, maybe it's our own tanks coming. Stay calm, continue to observe, and report any developments immediately."

The sergeant responded and immediately focused all his attention on the northeast direction. He held his breath and listened intently—it was indeed the roar of a tank engine, deep and powerful, coming from the depths of the forest, growing louder as it approached. The wind on the snowfield blew harder, but the mechanical roar grew clearer and clearer.

"Is it ours, or the Germans'?" he asked himself in a low voice, his hand unconsciously tightening its grip on the rifle.

Suddenly, three tanks, covered in snow, burst out of the woods. Their outlines gradually became clear in the winter twilight, and their distinctive design features made the sergeant instantly recognize them.

“It’s our T-34!” he almost shouted, his tense shoulders finally relaxing a little.

As soon as the tanks emerged from the forest, they quickly deployed into battle formation. The lead tank, without hesitation, unleashed a torrent of intense heat from its cannon. The shell sliced ​​through the frigid air, striking precisely the side of a German tank that was firing. The deafening explosion shook the entire snowfield; the German tank's armor was torn apart like paper, and thick smoke and flames instantly engulfed the entire vehicle. The hatch was flung open, and a tank crewman, engulfed in flames, struggled to his feet, screaming as he rolled onto the snow, leaving a charred trail in the pristine white surface.

A nearby German tank hastily ceased firing, its turret beginning to spin rapidly in an attempt to target the new threat. But the Soviet tanks gave them no chance. Two other T-34s opened fire almost simultaneously, shells whistling towards their targets.

The first shell exploded near the tracks of the German tank, scattering shrapnel and rattling the steel plates of nearby armored vehicles. The second shell hit the turret base directly, the enormous impact sending the entire turret flying. It tumbled several times in the air before crashing heavily onto the snow, kicking up a cloud of snow.

Seeing their tank units annihilated in an instant, the German armored vehicles hastily turned their guns around, abandoning their suppression of the Soviet infantry on the slope, and instead opened fire on the T-34s at the edge of the forest. Machine gun bullets sparked against the tank armor, but failed to cause any real damage.

The Soviet tank crews responded calmly, steadily aiming at the moving targets. Shells were fired with precision, each one turning an armored vehicle into a burning iron coffin. In moments, these once-arrogant armored vehicles were reduced to piles of burning scrap metal, the black smoke starkly contrasting against the white snow, like black bonfires scattered across the snowfield.

Nazarov took it all in, and a surge of joy welled up inside him. He jumped to his feet, raised his Tokarev pistol above his head, and shouted with all his might, "Comrades, the enemy's tanks and armored vehicles have been destroyed! For the Motherland, for Stalin! Charge with me!"

Before the shout had even faded, he was the first to leap from his cover, brandishing his pistol and charging down the slope. Seeing their battalion commander leading the charge, the soldiers' morale soared, and they sprang up from the snow. Shouts rose and fell, and hundreds of soldiers followed Nazorov like a tidal wave, charging towards the German troops who had lost their armored cover and were in disarray.

The German commander had already felt a sense of foreboding when he witnessed his tanks and armored vehicles being destroyed by Soviet artillery fire. The smoke and explosions on the battlefield sent chills down his spine. Now, seeing Soviet soldiers surging in like a tidal wave, the dark mass of troops accompanied by deafening battle cries, he was terrified. His face turned pale, and he could only desperately shout for his soldiers to resist, his voice trembling with fear. He frantically climbed into the passenger seat of a nearby truck, frantically patting the driver's shoulder, ordering him in an almost tearful voice to drive away from this dangerous place as quickly as possible, fearing that a second's delay would mean being swallowed up by the Soviet army.

With their commander gone, the German soldiers, now without unified command, descended into chaos and fought independently. Some soldiers continued to fire blindly, bullets scattering in all directions without any accuracy; others turned and fled into the distance, staggering, their faces filled with despair, trying to escape to safety.

However, whether the German soldiers resisted or fled, it was all insignificant in the face of the Soviet army's superior numbers and equipment. As the Soviet army surrounded them from all sides, some clever German soldiers immediately threw down their weapons, raised their hands high, and surrendered to the Soviets. Since one person took the lead in surrendering, the surrounding German soldiers followed suit, throwing down their weapons and raising their hands in surrender.

(End of this chapter)