Persian Empire 1845

Chapter 660 Crossing the Danube Again (Part 2)
In the following days, the entire southern bank of the lower Danube, especially the area around Ruse, was completely turned into a giant meat grinder.

Tatishev abandoned complex tactics and instead employed the most primitive and brutal human wave tactics. Utilizing his overwhelming numerical superiority, he ordered his troops to launch continuous battalion and regimental-level assaults day and night. As one wave of soldiers fell, another immediately took its place. Treading over the corpses of their comrades, under the supervision of their officers, they frantically charged towards the Ottoman army's barbed wire and machine gun positions. This tactic was utterly devoid of skill; it was purely a matter of using lives to wear down the defenders' ammunition and energy.

Faced with the Russian army's near-suicidal charges, the Ottoman army would, after inflicting maximum casualties on the enemy at the forward positions, retreat to reserve positions as needed. Meanwhile, the already-ready reserves would launch fierce counter-attacks while the Russian troops occupied the ruins, were still establishing themselves, and were in disarray. This tactic proved consistently effective, often annihilating the advancing Russian forces or driving them back to their starting points. The lines of control on the battlefield were intricate and constantly shifting, changing every day, even every hour.

The artillery engaged in the fiercest battle since the start of the war. The Russian army, relying on its numerical superiority, attempted to overwhelm everything with a steel torrent. The Ottoman artillery, however, was more agile, utilizing pre-established concealed positions and excellent observation systems to precisely strike Russian pontoon bridges, logistical nodes, and troop concentrations. On the Danube, Russian ships attempting to transport supplies and reinforcements suffered heavy losses, with broken planks and corpses floating on the river. The battlefield was shrouded in thick smoke day and night, filled with the acrid smell of gunpowder and the stench of rotting bodies.

Meanwhile, in the Tulcea direction, the Russian offensive also faced significant difficulties. The complex network of waterways and swampy terrain of the Danube Delta severely limited the deployment of large-scale troops and the use of heavy weapons. The Romanian army effectively controlled the main waterways using numerous small forts and artillery positions. The Russian offensive here resembled a large-scale armed reconnaissance, and after suffering considerable losses, it only managed to capture some minor islands on the edge of the delta, having minimal impact on the main battlefront.

In this hellish week, the Russian army suffered over 70000 casualties, advancing its front line less than two kilometers south, and capturing mostly ruins with no strategic value. Morale plummeted, soldiers were filled with war-weariness and despair, and desertions and self-inflicted injuries surged. Ammunition and supply depletion reached alarming levels, overwhelming the logistics system.

The continued heavy losses and minimal progress were driving General Tatishev to desperation. The telegrams from St. Petersburg grew increasingly urgent. He realized that the morale and offensive capabilities of his regular troops were nearing their limits. It was time to deploy his last trump card: the Imperial Russian Guard.

The Imperial Guard of Russia originated during the reign of Peter the Great and included regiments such as the Preobrazhensky Regiment, the Semyonovskoye Regiment, and the Ismailovo Regiment. With a total strength of 4 men, it was both a symbol of imperial military power and a crucial pillar of the Romanov dynasty's imperial authority.

However, due to their political value and high cost, the Tsar was often reluctant to commit the entire Praetorian Guard to large-scale, bloody warfare unless the situation was critical. And now, that critical moment had arrived.

On April 26, after three hours of unprecedented and intense artillery preparation, the Russian army's most elite 4st Guards Infantry Division and Guards Grenadier Brigade, in neat and dense formations, like moving city walls, launched a desperate charge against the last major line of defense of the Ottoman army on the outskirts of Ruse.

These Imperial Guard soldiers, adorned with ornate bearskin hats and impeccably tailored uniforms, stood tall, singing ancient war songs, ignoring their fallen comrades, and marched forward with resolute strides. Their presence instantly boosted the morale of all ordinary Russian troops and placed immense psychological pressure on the Ottoman defenders.

The battle intensified. The Imperial Guard soldiers, with their unparalleled courage and discipline, broke through several Ottoman positions. The clash of bayonets, the dying screams, and furious roars echoed through the air. The Ottoman defenders fought valiantly, knowing that if this point were breached, the entire Ruse defense line would be in danger of collapsing.

Ottoman Pasha also committed his last strategic reserves: an elite infantry regiment composed of Iranian volunteers and one of Ottoman's own guard battalions. They launched a counter-attack against the vanguard's advance.

The fighting continued into the night. Ultimately, after suffering heavy casualties, including a major general brigade commander and nearly half of their troops, the Russian Guards' offensive was halted. They failed to achieve a decisive breakthrough and instead suffered severe losses. The positions on the outskirts of Ruse were piled high with the bodies of soldiers from both sides, especially those Guards wearing bearskin hats.

After nearly two months of fighting, the Ottoman army was severely depleted. Cracks appeared in previously well-defended positions. The Russian army finally achieved a seemingly decisive breakthrough at Hill 107, a hilly area about 5 kilometers south of Ruse. The 11th Army, after sacrificing another division, successfully captured this crucial position overlooking the surrounding area. If the Russians could consolidate this position and use it as an artillery observation point, it would greatly threaten the Ottoman's deep defenses.

Tatishev saw a glimmer of hope for victory and decided to commit a division of the Guards, which was being held in reserve. Their mission was simple: to consolidate Hill 107 and use it as a springboard to penetrate deep into the heart of the Ottoman defenses.

On April 29th, after another round of extremely intense artillery preparation, the Russian Guards Division, like a sword drawn from its sheath, launched a massive attack on the Ottoman second line of defense south of Hill 107. Shouting "For the Tsar! For Russia!", they charged forward in dense formation, ignoring casualties. Their fierce offensive did indeed shake the Ottoman defenders' lines for a time, and several forward positions fell.

This was a brutal clash of aces. There was no artillery support, as the two sides were already locked in a fierce, interlocking battle. Only the clanging of bayonets, the firing of rifles, the screams of the dying, and the beast-like roars of the soldiers on both sides filled the air. The battle had become a contest of will and courage. The Ottoman Guards, determined to defend the glory of the Empire, and the Bosnians, burning with the rage to avenge their compatriots in Senica, engaged in a desperate struggle with the Russian Guards Division on this small hillside.

(End of this chapter)