My own war game

Chapter 171 Empty Hands

In order to bypass the destroyed tank, the Type 3 tank in the first row began to turn its body to expose its flank.

At the same time, more than two dozen black gun barrels emerged from the position. They were the Soviet army's hidden anti-tank rifle team.

The PTRD-41 anti-tank rifle began development in July 1941 and went into production in August. The first batch of 7 rifles were all deployed to the guard troops around Moscow.

This heavy rifle is 2 meters long and uses 14.5×114mm armor-piercing bullets. It has a vertical armor-piercing capability of 25mm within 15 meters. It is almost tailor-made for the mm side armor of the Panzer III and Panzer IV tanks.

For this surprise attack, the Soviet guards fought hard, and all the anti-tank rifle groups were ambushed within 200 meters of the earth slope. In other words, these soldiers hid under the first round of artillery fire with only simple cover.

Only then did He Chi understand what the political commissar meant by good luck. There were fifty anti-tank soldiers lying in ambush there, which meant that about half of the soldiers died under the artillery fire during the process of lurking before they even saw the enemy.

But the sacrifice is meaningful.

At a distance of less than 200 meters, the twisting German tanks were like a group of dancers who forgot to wear safety pants, exposing their little secrets to the anti-tank team's guns one by one.

BANG BANG BANG BANG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
A thunderous roar sounded, and more than 100 anti-tank guns fired in unison. The first row of tanks, each with at least three anti-tank guns, had their side armor ripped open by special armor-piercing bullets. The bullets attacked the soldiers inside with great kinetic energy, and if they hit the torso, they would % die on the spot. Even if there were lucky ones who were only hit in the limbs, they would be disabled and lose their combat effectiveness immediately.

boom! ! ! ! !
A Type 3 tank became unlucky. It was not known whether the fuel tank or the ammunition depot was pierced, causing the explosion, and it turned into a huge torch on the spot.

Bang bang bang bang bang! ! ! ! ! ! ! Bang bang bang bang bang! ! ! ! ! ! !
The soldiers immediately pulled the bolt and fired the second and third shots in the shortest time possible. They had to do it as quickly as possible, otherwise they would have no chance.

Puff, puff, puff!!! Puff, puff, puff!!!

The machine guns on the German tanks began to fire, and a large number of Soviet anti-tank gunners who had no cover at all were knocked down, and some of them were hit by dozens of bullets at the same time.

"Retreat! Everyone retreat!" Someone at the front of the position shouted to the soldiers in front with a loud speaker.

Boom!Boom!Boom!
A few muffled noises were heard at the front line. The retreating gunmen used explosives to destroy the anti-tank rifles that were too heavy to take away. Then several small black dots ran back along the tunnels of the front line without looking back.

Behind them, the overwhelming artillery shells once again covered the original positions.

There are bombers flying over from the sky! Anti-aircraft machine guns on the ground rang out, and rows of small black dots fell from the sky towards the Soviet positions.

The sound of gunfire outside the town continued until dusk.
-
At night, the Germans withdrew, leaving behind several disabled tanks and hundreds of corpses.

"We destroyed almost 10 tanks, more than half of which were completely irreparable. We left at least 300 people in the first two battalions that launched the attack, and..."

"Comrade Political Commissar, let's put aside the results of the battle for now. I want to know the losses of the troops." Regimental commander Vlalyushenko interrupted his partner's report.

"Huh~Okay, I hope you are mentally prepared." The political commissar let out a long sigh and then turned to another page in the notebook.

"Two companies on the front line are basically destroyed, mostly due to shelling. We will probably have nearly 200 people who can't pick up their guns tomorrow."

"Then there was the anti-tank group. We lost half of our six anti-tank gun groups. One of the gun groups was hit head-on by a mortar. All eight people died."

"The anti-tank rifle group suffered the heaviest casualties. Two platoons of people went over, but only six people came back, and all of them were injured."

On the first day of the war, one fifth of their troops were lost, and this was despite the absolute advantage of the terrain and the ambush in advance. The regiment commander's eyebrows were twisted into a ball. "Anything else?" "Yes!" The political commissar sighed and turned another page of his notes.

"Two of the six anti-tank guns were destroyed and one was out of order and could not be repaired in a short time."

"We have used up one base number of shells per gun on average, but we can still hold out for at least three days."

"The new anti-tank design worked well, but we only have 20 left. It's too heavy for the soldiers to bring back when they retreat, so they have to be destroyed on the spot."

"Besides," said Political Commissar Donatolovsky, after a pause, "the Germans have suffered a loss once, and the tactics they used this morning will not work again."

"That's right, that tactic is enough once." The regiment commander grabbed his military cap from the table, pulled his coat, and walked out.

"Comrade commander, where are you going?" The political commissar also followed him out.

"Go check on our wounded."

The largest house in the town was temporarily converted into a field first aid station. Since the regiment-level unit did not have an independent field hospital, there were only a few medical soldiers busying around, giving the simplest bandages to the wounded soldiers.

The door was pushed open and a strong smell of blood wafted in. Wounded soldiers were lying on the wooden beds.

The wounded soldiers were divided into two groups, with the central axis of the house as the dividing line. The wounded on the east side were silent, while on the west side, groans with different accents could be heard all the time.

This is a habit that the Soviet army has developed over the past year. Wounded soldiers who can respond will be treated first, while those who can no longer make a sound will be placed aside and silently wait for death to come.

This is a cruel and helpless choice.

"Can we take a look at the wounded soldiers in the anti-tank gun team today? They fought bravely and are heroes!" The regiment commander made a request to the medical soldiers.

"Well...Okay, please come this way, Comrade Commander." The medical soldier led the regiment commander to an independent single room with embarrassment.

The door was opened, and a soldier with a bandage on his head was sitting beside the bed. His clothes were torn and blood and dust mixed together and smeared on his face like oil paint.

"Eurikin, you are a hero. The motherland and the people will be proud of you!" The commander knew the wounded soldier sitting there. He was a very outstanding young man who would play the accordion for everyone during daily training.

He stretched out his hand, wanting to shake hands with the wounded and boost their morale, but the wounded soldier did not move.

The captain looked down and found that the wounded man's right hand was wrapped into a ball, turning into a strange bloody shape, and his fingers were gone.

Vlalyushenko suppressed his grief and stretched out his left hand to the soldier.

The soldier hesitated for a moment before slowly raising his left hand.

There was nothing there either...

(End of this chapter)