Persian Empire 1845

Chapter 459 The Akmechte Conflict (Part 3)
"It's a Persian machine gun, shoot it down."

At the Pelovsk fortress, a Russian commander, his face covered in gunpowder smoke, directs his soldiers in battle. A Nadir II machine gun stands in his way as he advances.

Two soldiers set up a cannon, adjusted its angle, and fired three shells at the heavy machine gun, silencing the obstacle. The commander immediately shouted, "Attack!"

The soldiers, who had been suppressed by machine gun fire, immediately launched a renewed attack.

This Russian offensive was also spotted by Pashinyan, who was defending the position. However, he was not worried at all, because his own troops also had artillery, and even better 6-pounder Darius cannons, which were made of all steel and had a breech-loading transverse wedge locking mechanism with a range of up to 4000 meters.

Sure enough, the troops on the position immediately took action against the cannon. Several explosions were heard around the cannon, and then it never fired again.

The Russian offensive was quickly repelled by the Iranian forces, and the soldiers on the battlefield cheered as they watched the retreating Russian troops. They were cheering not only for defeating the enemy, but also for surviving. Only on the battlefield do people realize the preciousness of life and learn to cherish it.

"Although we repelled the Russian offensive this time, we also need to recognize their strategies and progress. I remember when we fought them ten years ago, these Russian troops, apart from high morale, had no other tactics; they just charged headlong into the fray. They were single-minded, and our firepower back then made them suffer. But now, they have developed some simpler tactics."

Listening to Pashinyan's words, Mousavi sighed and said, "That's exactly what terrifies me. These Russian troops are growing rapidly, and coupled with their high morale, they will undoubtedly be our country's greatest threat. Therefore, to ensure that our country can cope with this threat, we must not only increase the training of our troops, but also find ways to utilize new equipment and technology to practice new tactics in order to deal with Russia, our biggest enemy. After all, this country is too big, has abundant resources, and a large population. If we don't find other ways, it will be almost impossible to have the strength to resist them."

Russia's geographical location is not ideal; it is situated on the periphery of Europe while possessing vast territories in Asia. However, much of this territory is difficult to develop, so from the establishment of the Romanov dynasty onwards, conquest of Europe and the south became the main theme for every ruler.

The Russians are willing to support these policies; they can tolerate an emperor who is mediocre or even a tyrant. But they cannot tolerate a weak monarch, much less one who surrenders to other countries. These factors influence Russia's current foreign policy and explain their obsession with land and access to the sea.

Pashinyan nodded and casually said, "We still need to take this place, otherwise it'll be troublesome once their reinforcements arrive."

"Let's go to the meeting."

Ten minutes later, a dozen or so officers, covered in dust, gathered in the command post behind the bunker. The flickering kerosene lamp cast their shadows on the rough wooden walls, and each of their faces was etched with exhaustion and determination.

In the dim light of the kerosene lamp, Pashinyan tossed his mud-caked gloves onto the table covered with maps. Red arrows representing Russian reinforcements pointed towards the Syr Darya River from three directions, the closest less than twenty kilometers from the Pelovsk fortress. "As you can see, we have at most thirty-six hours," he said, his finger tapping heavily on the blue dots marking artillery positions. "We must take the fortress before the main Russian force arrives, or we'll be caught in a pincer movement."

Major Abbas, an engineer, spoke first: "The tunnel under the east city wall has been dug to the designated position, but the Russians have clearly noticed. Half an hour ago they started filling the moat with water, and groundwater is seeping into the tunnel at a rate of two inches per minute." He unfolded a charcoal cross-section diagram, on which the groundwater level was marked and was slowly rising.

“Then let’s change the detonation point.” Pashinyan grabbed a pencil and drew a new mark on the map. “Break in from the southwest corner. Although the walls are thickest there, the Russians have deployed old artillery there, which has blind spots in its firing range.”

Artillery Commander Lieutenant Colonel Jahangir shook his head upon hearing this. "Excuse my bluntness, General. The bombardment effect of a six-pounder cannon is negligible against a three-meter-thick rammed earth wall. Unless," he hesitated for a moment, "unless we risk advancing two Darius cannons to within five hundred meters for direct fire."

A collective gasp filled the bunker. This distance meant the artillery position would be completely exposed to Russian rifle fire, and the soldiers operating the artillery had no more than a 30% chance of survival. Pashinyan's gaze swept across the faces of every officer present, finally settling on the young man who remained silent in the corner—Captain Darabi, the company commander of the Special Demolitions Company, whose men were all expert in explosives mixing.

"Captain, if I gave you 24 hours and half a ton of explosives, how big of a breach could you tear in the southwest corner?"

Dallabi raised his bloodshot eyes. “A gap big enough for two cavalrymen to pass side by side, General. But someone needs to get the explosives into the base of the wall first.” He said this as calmly as if he were discussing a dinner menu, but everyone knew what it meant—in the last similar operation, only three men from the entire demolition company came back alive to collect their medals.

As the meeting ended, the eastern sky was beginning to lighten. Pashinyan remained alone in the bunker, sketching out the final attack plan on a map with a pencil: the demolition company would infiltrate under cover of darkness to plant explosives; before dawn, artillery would concentrate its fire on a feint attack from the east; after the demolition was successful, the main force would break in through the southwest gap. The biggest gamble of this plan was whether the Russian commander would be drawn away by the feint attack and divert the troops defending the southwest corner.

At 4:15 a.m., the feint attack began precisely on time. Iranian artillery deliberately exposed their positions, and six cannons unleashed a saturation bombardment on the eastern city wall. As expected, the defenders of the Pelovsk fortress quickly adjusted their defensive focus, and the defenses on the southwest corner visibly thinned out. Through his binoculars, Pashinyan saw that the Russian army had even redeployed two cannons from that side to reinforce the east.

At 5:20, a blinding white light suddenly burst forth from the southwest corner, followed by a deafening explosion.

"Charge!" The shouts of the charging soldiers echoed across the battlefield. Iranian soldiers rushed into the breach through the still-hot rubble, but unexpectedly encountered no fierce resistance as expected. Behind the collapsed city wall, dozens of Russian soldiers lay dead in their positions in bizarre postures. It seemed that this attack had also caught them off guard.

(End of this chapter)