World War: Battleship Arms Dealers

"Charge!" Yamada was the first to rush towards the farmhouse.

Matsumoto rushed forward, rifle at his chest. They kicked open the half-closed door and stormed inside.

The scene inside was horrific.

The power of the explosion was amplified in the confined space. The bodies of two Russian soldiers lay by the window, mangled beyond recognition. A Maxim machine gun lay overturned on the ground, its barrel twisted. The air was thick with the stench of gunpowder, blood, and the agonizing smell of ruptured entrails.

But the battle is not over yet.

A shout in Russian came from the inner room, followed by the sound of rifle fire. Bullets struck the doorframe, sending splinters flying.

"Cover!" Yamada shouted, throwing the last grenade into the inner room.

Matsumoto and Oshima immediately opened fire towards the inner room to suppress any enemies that might rush out. Grenades exploded, and even more smoke billowed out of the inner room.

As soon as the explosion subsided, Yamada rushed inside. Matsumoto followed closely behind.

The inner room was even smaller, containing only a table, two chairs, and a collapsed cabinet. Three Russian soldiers lay in pools of blood, one of them still convulsing. In the corner, a young Russian soldier—who looked no more than eighteen—slumped on the floor, rifle in hand, but his eyes were vacant, clearly having lost the will to fight.

Yamada pointed his gun at him, his finger on the trigger.

The young Russian soldier stared at the gun barrel, his lips trembling. He said something in Russian and then began to cry.

Matsumoto looked at that young face and thought of his own younger brother. If his brother were here, wouldn't he be just as afraid?

"Sergeant..." he blurted out instinctively.

Yamada lowered his gun. He walked up to the Russian soldier, kicked the rifle out of his hand, and then made a "get up" gesture.

The Russian soldier stared at him blankly.

"Prisoners," Yamada said in simple German, then pointed outside the door.

The Russian soldier seemed to understand, and stood up tremblingly, raising his hands.

"Take him out," Yamada said to Fujiwara, "and hand him over to the German troops behind."

Fujiwara nodded and pointed his gun at the prisoners as they walked out of the farmhouse.

Yamada turned to Matsumoto and Oshima: "Inspect the entire building to make sure it's safe. Then we'll hold this position and wait for the main force to arrive."

Matsumoto began the search. He found a wooden crate in the corner of the outer room, and when he opened it, he found it full of machine gun ammunition belts and several boxes of rifle bullets.

"Ammunition!" he shouted.

"Okay. Move it over and put it by the window," Yamada said. "We might need it."

Oshima retrieved a Nagant pistol and several magazines from the body of a Russian soldier and clipped them to his belt: "Spoils of war."

Matsumoto had no interest in looting the corpses. He walked to the window and looked outside. The fighting continued in the distance, gunfire, explosions, and shouts mingling together. Further away, he saw Japanese troops advancing, like a swarm of yellow ants moving across the snow.

"We did it." Oshima walked over to him and handed him a water bottle. "Have some, Russian stuff."

Matsumoto took the water bottle and took a sip. It was vodka, so strong that it made him cough.

"Hey, look over there," Oshima said, pointing out the window.

Matsumoto looked over and saw Kawahara dragging the Type 96 machine gun towards the farmhouse, with Kobayashi and several other soldiers following behind. They successfully passed through the area that had just been blocked by the machine gun.

A few minutes later, the entire squad—or rather, the remaining nine men—reunited at the farmhouse.

"Well done." Yamada patted Matsumoto on the shoulder. "The three of you saved us all."

Matsumoto wanted to say something, but his throat was dry, so he just nodded.

Kawahara inspected the captured Maxim machine gun and shook his head: "It's broken, beyond repair. But the bullets still work." He picked up a bullet belt. "Look, German Mauser rounds, 7.92mm, different from what we use."

"Keep it; it might come in handy later," Yamada said.

The detachment began setting up defensive positions in the farmhouse. They pushed tables and cabinets to the windows, piled up sandbags (frozen soil dug from outside the farmhouse), and made makeshift firing ports. Kawahara mounted a Type 11 machine gun on the front window; although the gun mount was broken, it was still usable on the windowsill.

"Sergeant, something's up!" Kobayashi, who was in charge of observation, shouted.

Yamada walked to the window and picked up the binoculars. Matsumoto also leaned over to look.

About 500 meters away, a group of Russian soldiers was organizing a counterattack. They numbered at least a company and were advancing in this direction in skirmish lines.

"They want to take back this high ground," Yamada concluded. "The view from here is too good; controlling this place would allow them to blockade the entire area."

"Can we hold out?" Oshima asked.

Yamada did not answer directly, but said, "Signal for artillery support. Then, prepare for battle."

Kawahara took out a signal gun from his backpack, loaded a red flare, and fired it into the sky through the hole in the roof. The red dot rose into the sky, standing out against the gray background.

A few minutes later, shells began landing on the Russian assault formation. However, the shelling was not intense, clearly indicating that the main German artillery fire was supporting other directions.

"Looks like we'll have to rely on ourselves." Yamada smiled wryly. "Conserve ammunition, wait until they're within 200 meters before opening fire. Kawahara, your machine gun is crucial."

"Understood." Kawahara checked the magazine in the Type 96; there were still about twenty bullets left. "Ono... does Ono have any more magazines on him?"

No one answered. Ono's body was still outside, near the crater where they had been lying.

"I'll go get it." Matsumoto stood up.

"It's too dangerous," Yamada stopped him.

"We need ammunition," Matsumoto said. "And we can't let him lie there."

Yamada stared at him for a few seconds, then nodded: "Go and come back quickly. Oshima, you cover me."

Matsumoto ducked and rushed out of the farmhouse, running back the way he came. Bullets occasionally flew overhead, but most were aimed towards the farmhouse. He found the crater; Ono's body was still there, stiff.

Matsumoto knelt down and took three full magazines from Ono's ammunition pouch. He also saw something clutched in Ono's hand; prying open his stiff fingers, he found a small amulet with the words "May your martial fortune last forever" written on it.

"I'm sorry," Matsumoto said softly, putting the amulet into his pocket. "I'll take it back to your family."

He picked up the ammunition bucket and turned to go back. Just then, he heard a strange sound—like a whistle, but sharper—coming from the sky.

Matsumoto looked up and saw several black dots falling from the sky, growing larger and larger.

Mortar shells.

He instinctively threw himself to the ground. Explosions erupted all around him, the closest ones less than ten meters away. The shockwave made his ears ring, and dirt and snow rained down on him.

When the explosion stopped, Matsumoto struggled to his feet and checked himself—miraculously, he was unharmed. But when he looked toward the farmhouse, his heart sank.

A mortar shell hit the roof of the farmhouse directly. The already damaged roof collapsed completely, and one wall also fell down. Smoke billowed from the ruins.

"No..." Matsumoto murmured, then rushed toward the farmhouse like a madman.