159

Episode 159: Spear and Shield (10)

When Sergei opened his closed eyes, hell unfolded before him.

"Ah ah ah ah ah!!!"

The identity of the author, whose entire body was engulfed in fire and was twisting as if dancing, was a political officer named Petrovov.

He is a handsome man with a slim chin and tall stature that looks like he stepped out of a recruitment poster, but despite his appearance, he is a notorious person due to his extremely vicious personality.

He often aroused the hatred and fear of the entire company with his gems such as, "I will report this to the party," Comrade Stalin said, etc., but in the end, he was a human being just like everyone else.

A human being who feels pain like everyone else and dies when shot.

Sergeant Petrovov, who was right behind the tank, was sprayed with burning oil all over his body when the tank exploded.

Petrovov went wild and howled as the flames melted his skin and burned his muscles.

But there was no hand to help him. This is because everyone was busy running here and there in search of their own way to live.

Sergei was thrown into the air by the shock wave generated when the bomb exploded and lost consciousness for a moment.

Although he had only been unconscious for two minutes and three seconds, Sergei felt as if ten years had passed.

Still, he was pretty lucky. There were scratches on his face and palms, and his uniform was slightly torn, but there were no other injuries.

My head felt dizzy, but it soon cleared up as I realized the situation I was in. He pulled his body up, his instinct to survive overtaking his headache.

Sergei's company, which had been retreating aimlessly, became part of a hastily constructed infantry regiment and was urgently deployed to the battle to stop the Germans trying to block the escape of the Soviet troops.

It was common to charge after supporting artillery fire, but the artillery had long since dried up, so the Soviet troops charged into the enemy camp bare-handed without artillery support.

And the result was the current scene.

Sergei stood up, realized that he was empty-handed, and looked around for his gun, which had fallen somewhere.

But even when I looked around, I couldn't see the SVT-40 he dropped.

He gave up looking for the gun and instead picked up the PPSh-41 submachine gun from the hands of his sergeant, who was lying with a hole in his temple.

Since the original owner would no longer need the submachine gun, he thought it would be better for the living person to use it instead.

"Sergei!"

Sergei turned his head when he heard the voice searching for him, but then frowned.

The person who found him was none other than Sergei Sergei's most hated veteran, Sergeant Vladimir Kalevsky.

"This bastard, are you crazy because you want to get ripped? Doesn't it come out fast?!"

Sergei had no good feelings towards Kalevsky, who frequently cursed and did not hesitate to hit him.

Kalevsky, who did not get along well with his subordinates and classmates due to his nasty personality, had such a reputation in the company that he was known as 'Belarusian human trash.'

Political officer Petrobov was also dead, but Sergei cursed under his breath and asked if that man was still alive and ran to him.

"What is that?"

"yes? "What do you mean?"

"Where did you put your gun and are you holding it?"

"ah… . that is… ."

Even in a situation where bullets are flying back and forth, it's like asking where your original gun is.

Sergei was so dumbfounded that he couldn't even speak properly. Does it matter what gun you are holding in this situation?

However, it seemed like it was an important issue to Kalevsky, and he glared at Sergei with pitiful eyes.

"Anyway, I'm so fucking lost. Later, after the battle is over-"

"Hey you bastards! What are you doing without shooting? Don't shoot quickly!"

When he heard the company commander's angry shout, Sergei quickly fell to the ground and fired his gun.

Kalevsky, who had been glaring at Sergei just moments before and was about to curse, kept his mouth shut and focused on shooting.

The PPSh-41, called by various names such as Shpagin submachine gun and Pepesha, was created under the influence of the Suomi submachine gun used by the Finnish army in the Winter War.

The PPSh-41, which was easier to manufacture, cheaper, and had superior performance than the previously used PPD-40 submachine gun, was scheduled to be widely used as the main submachine gun of the Soviet Army.

If only it weren't for Kulik.

Despite Kulik's disdain for submachine guns as police weapons that wasted bullets, the PPSh-41 was produced and distributed in small quantities despite its excellent performance and productivity.

Kulik's mistake caused the Soviet army to be significantly outgunned by the German army, which was armed with automatic weapons such as the MP38 and StG39.

Sergei, who had been blindly pulling the trigger in the direction the bullet was flying, soon realized too late that he had made a huge mistake. While he was packing his gun, he didn't actually pack any spare magazines.

Damn it, what should I do? If you just don't shoot and don't shoot, this bastard Kalebsky will be a mess, right?

At this time, the German army, faltering due to the fierce resistance of the Soviet army, retreated, and the Soviet army took advantage of this gap and attempted to advance. When the company commander ran around and shouted to charge forward, the soldiers who were lying down got up and started running.

"For our country! charge!"

"Uraaa!!"

Sergei, who was running ahead and shouting like everyone else, passed a soldier who had fallen after being shot.

The soldier also used the same PPSh-41 as Sergei, and spare magazines could be seen rolling around on the floor.

Sergei stopped and gathered up some spare magazines. And then he hurriedly resumed his assault before Kalebsky could shout.

The Soviet regiment that launched the assault temporarily defeated the Germans and even occupied their trenches.

However, they had to retreat without even having time to enjoy the joy of victory.

This is because the German army, which was thought to have retreated, soon appeared with tanks.

The Soviets also had tanks, but the Germans had more of them.

And the German Army's Panzer 4 was able to hit the target by firing shells from a greater distance than the Soviet Army's T-34 and T-43.

-Quaaang!

As soon as the battle resumed, two T-34s exploded in succession.

The tank soldiers who were trying to escape cried out as they were unable to escape the tank as the hatch broke due to the impact of being hit.

Amid the screams of the tankers burning in the fire, a T-43 charged, firing its 76mm main gun.

A 75mm armor-piercing bullet hit the front, but did not penetrate the armor and ricocheted.

The T-43, which had better defense than the T-34, fired its main gun, ricocheting off 75mm shells flying from the front.

The shell fired by the T-43 hit the front of Tank 4.

However, the 76mm shell seemed to have been too far away and ricocheted, leaving only a long bullet mark on the armor.

At this distance, even if both sides fired at each other, they would only ricochet. To kill an opponent, one had to take risks and approach the opponent.

"Tank, forward! "We will finish it off for sure!"

The T-43 ridden by a brave tank commander chose to advance despite the risk.

Eventually, as the distance to Panzer 4 narrowed to 400m, the T-43's main gun spit out sparks.

Almost at the same time, a flash of light erupted from the main gun of Tank 4.

"Ah, that… .."

Unfortunately, the T-43 tank crews were not rewarded for their courage and fighting spirit.

The shell fired by the T-43 only blew away the right track of Tank 4, but the shell from Tank 4 hit the center of the T-43 and skewered the crew inside the tank.

"Retreat! "Everyone retreat!"

In the end, Sergei cursed arrogantly, saying that if it was going to end up like this, it would have been better to just leave it where it was.

Advancing through enemy fire was usually not easy, but retreating was many times more difficult.

Many Soviet soldiers fled with their backs turned and fell after being hit by blind bullets.

To make matters worse, a mortar attack was launched. Every time a mortar shell fell, three or four Soviet soldiers fell to the ground.

"Help me!"

Sergei, who was running frantically, caught the eye of Kalevsky, who had collapsed on the floor and was struggling.

Where the foot should have been, there was only a red cut surface.

The lieutenant lying to Sergei's left, missing half his head.

Every time my body trembled due to rigor mortis, the severed brains oozed out onto the floor.

Sergei ran past Kalevsky, who was struggling like a slug. Immediately after that, six hexagrams came out of Kalebsky's mouth.

"Hey, Sergei! You son of a bitch! "Where are you going!"

Sergei had no intention of fighting back. He ran for dear life, ignoring the swearing and yelling that was going on in the back of his head.

I ran like crazy just to survive.

***

The area where the air raid passed was full of bomb craters and torn bodies.

The soldiers who were right near the bomb when it exploded were still lucky. Because I was able to go without even having a chance to feel pain.

The truly unlucky soldiers were those who were narrowly within the impact zone of the explosion.

They were thrown away by the impact of the explosion and fell to the ground, breaking their spines or having dozens or even hundreds of fragments lodged in their bodies, turning them into human hedgehogs.

The screams and cries of the wounded soldiers were more terrifying than the roar of the bomb exploding.

Unable to overcome the pain, the officers put the muzzles of their guns in their mouths and pulled the trigger. Soldiers without pistols committed suicide by detonating grenades.

Among the soldiers killed or injured in the air raid were military doctors and medics.

As the military doctors and medics who were supposed to treat the wounded soldiers died, the wounded soldiers were left to ordinary soldiers with little medical knowledge.

Soldiers who only knew how to stop the bleeding at best were unable to properly treat wounded soldiers, and even those who could live well if they received timely treatment lost their lives.

Vlasov, who came out of the bomb shelter, was speechless when he saw the despair of the survivors.

His mouth was tightly shut in shock, and his arms and legs trembled like aspen trees.

"Comrade Commander! Are you okay?"

The staff rushed over to check on Vlasov's well-being. Vlasov barely nodded his head.

"I'm fine. Rather… . "Take care of the soldiers first."

After Kulik was evacuated home due to his injuries, Stavka gave Vlasov the position of commander-in-chief of the 2nd Shock Army.

However, only the name was grandiose, and the number of troops he could actually command was actually smaller than the 4th Mechanized Corps at the time of crossing the German-Soviet border.

Tens of thousands of soldiers had already been reduced to dust in East Prussia, or were injured and waiting for death.

Most of the equipment was destroyed or abandoned due to malfunction, and even the remaining equipment was stranded due to lack of fuel.

To make matters worse, the 2nd Shock Army was surrounded by German troops.

While the Soviet army launched an attack that had no meaning or chance of success, the German army slowly built up troops and supplies to prepare for a counterattack, and when the time came, they launched a counterattack without delay.

The Soviet army, exhausted from the long battle and accumulated damage, was unable to withstand the German offensive and quickly collapsed.

The siege was not completely closed yet, but it was like a candle in the face of a wind that could close at any time.

Vlasov did his best to command the handful of troops he had been given, but there was nothing he could do.

The German army quickly deployed additional troops to increase the thickness of the siege, and, as if hunting a rabbit, drove the Soviet army to one location and poured out artillery and air strikes.

Vlasov thought that the reason the Germans did not close the encirclement immediately was because they planned to drive even one more Soviet soldier toward the exit and annihilate them all at once.

Therefore, I worried whether the attempt to break through the siege itself might be playing out according to the enemy's plan.

However, if you stay still, you will be subject to bombing and artillery fire.

'One way or another, I'm going to die.'

But Vlasov did not give up.

He could not give up, even for the sake of the soldiers who trusted only in him and remained silent.

He, too, was as exhausted and fatigued as the lowest-ranking soldiers, but he did not let go of his baton until the end.

"Insert the 2nd Tank Division and the 5th Tank Division. "I guess I can buy at least some time."

"Comrade Commander, the 5th Tank Division is having difficulty moving due to lack of fuel. Wouldn't it be better to send in the 28th Tank Division?"

"Then let's do it. "Have you made contact with the 101st Artillery Brigade?"

"We still haven't been able to contact you."

"Keep trying to communicate. What happened to the 33rd Rifle Division?"

"That is… … "

When Vlasov asked about the 33rd Rifle Division's actions, the staff all lost their words.

While Vlasov, who had no idea what was happening, was just glaring, a colonel with an arm in a cast carrying a gun belt spoke.

"The 33rd Rifle Division was destroyed. The division commander and his staff have surrendered to the Germans, and the division troops have been divided into companies and are retreating individually."

"… ..her."

Vlasov was at a loss.

Until yesterday, the division commander of the 33rd Rifle Division had spoken to Vlasov on the phone and pledged that he would defend his current position even if it meant death. But it was surrender.

However, Vlasov did not criticize the division commander.

This would not have happened if the higher-ups had not ordered an unreasonable offensive in the first place.

Did he surrender because he wanted to surrender?

It seems like an unlikely choice considering that he was prepared to die, but it was inevitable since he was only a person.

Wanting to live cannot be called a sin.

The good news was that the neighboring 39th and 41st Rifle Divisions were still alive and well.

In fact, their situation was not very good, but looking at the map anyway, the two divisions seemed to be firmly maintaining their positions despite the German army's onslaught.

Vlasov ordered the two divisions to be reinforced with temporary units composed of remnants of destroyed units.

"Comrade Commander, this is a communication from Comrade Marshal Tymoshenko."

"I'm going now."

Vlasov felt puzzled when he heard that Tymoshenko in Minsk was looking for him.

Given the situation, he didn't have a good feeling, but he quietly picked up the phone.

Soon a familiar voice reached my ears.

-Comrade Vlasov, it's a good day.

"Comrade Marshal. "The current situation is-"

-I know. An order came from Stavka.

"What command is this?"

-This is an order to get you out of the siege. Send the Pe-8 to where you are now. Ride it and escape.

After hearing Tymoshenko's words, Vlasov felt as if he had been hit on the head with a hammer.

As he hesitated, not knowing what to say, Tymoshenko panicked, thinking the radio had been cut off.

-Comrade Vlasov? Can you hear me?

"I can hear you, comrade. What do you mean by that? Escape? "Tens of thousands of soldiers are still trapped in the siege."

-I know. But it is an order given by Comrade Secretary General. I, Zhukov, and Stavka also believe that it will be difficult for our troops who are already trapped in the siege to escape. Unfortunately, this is reality.

"How can I leave my subordinates alone… .."

-Forget emotional thoughts and look at reality. Soldiers can be replenished at any time, but that is not possible with capable commanders like you. It is natural for cows to sacrifice themselves for the greater good.

I won't talk any longer. If you are a commander, act like a commander.

Tymoshenko's words ended there.

Even after the radio was cut off, Vlasov could not take his steps.

It seemed very unreasonable to him that he would order his subordinates who trusted and followed him to remain in limbo while he himself would flee to the safety of the rear.

Even though the person who benefits from this unreasonable thing is himself.

He left the command center and looked around. Outside, countless injured people were still waiting for their turn, groaning in pain.

A very small number of military doctors and medics were constantly moving around and treating wounded soldiers, but their number was too small compared to the number of wounded soldiers, and medicines were also limited.

It was extremely painful to watch the wounded soldiers desperately enduring the pain while holding on to their meager breath.

Just as Vlasov, who could not bear to see them, was about to turn his head, he made eye contact with a wounded soldier.

At that moment, he approached the wounded soldier as if under hypnosis.

The wounded soldier was young. I was too young. His chin was clean and not even covered in downy hair, he was short, and his arms were as thin as tree branches.

Even at a glance, I could tell that this was an age group that was more suited to a desk and a pencil than to a military uniform.

Vlasov did not know why this boy chose to enlist at such an early age.

However, I could only speculate that he may have entered the military early because his family circumstances were not good or he grew up in an orphanage.

The bandage clumsily wrapped around the boy's abdomen was brown with dried blood.

The boy only moved his eyes and stared at Vlasov, as if he didn't even have the strength to speak.

Vlasov, unable to keep his eyes on the boy, turned away.

"Comrade Commander. The escape plane is scheduled to arrive in 10 minutes."

"I understand."

10 minutes. It was faster than expected.

Will you obey orders and save your life?

Will he refuse to escape and remain with his subordinates?

It was a difficult issue to choose.

If God exists, what choices would he make? Vlasov looked up at the sky.

The sky was clear with a few clouds. But the God he hoped for was not visible.

Vlasov turned his head again and saw wounded soldiers, soldiers rushing to treat them, and soldiers in torn military uniforms covered in dirt.

When he saw their tired and hungry appearance, he made up his mind.

"aide. "From now on, listen carefully to what I say."

***

After a fierce battle, Brunegger huddled with his classmates and started a fire to boil coffee.

As the water in the kettle began to boil, I poured the coffee powder in, and I saw a car coming from the horizon.

"What is that?"

Brunegger, who had no way to determine whether it was friend or foe because the distance was so far, prepared for any emergency while holding the rifle he had placed on the stand.

Eventually, the turret of Tank 4 rotated and the tank commander stuck his head out of the hatch and shouted to the soldiers.

"It's Ivan!"

At the word that Ivan had appeared, the soldiers raised their weapons and took a shooting stance. However, the soldiers were confused by the tank commander's words.

"Don't shoot. "I'm raising the white flag."

Soon Brunegger could see the white flag mounted on the vehicle. The white flag on the battlefield had only one meaning.

Three Soviet soldiers were riding in a vehicle that stopped in front of a German position.

Among them, the one who seemed to have the highest rank got out of the car, raised his hands and shouted in broken German.

"This is Lieutenant General Andrei Vlasov. He came to surrender."

"surrender… ..? "No, you're a lieutenant general?"

Brunegger was more shocked by the word lieutenant general than by the word surrender.