Chapter 1020: The Last Time I Saw

“Bombs away!” At an altitude of over 7,000 meters, on a DO-217 bomber, the commander gave the order to begin the bombing. One after another, the German bombers, which had already opened their bomb bays, began to release the bombs inside.

The airflow whistled past the fins of the aerial bombs. The person who had come up with the idea of installing whistles on the bombs must have been a master of psychological application. At the cost of a small whistle, they had inflicted dozens of times more psychological damage on the enemy soldiers who had not been killed by the bombs.

The sky-filling sound of the whistles almost made the Soviet soldiers who could hear it collapse. Accompanied by the muffled thud of the explosions on the ground, and the trembling of the earth that was felt through every part of their bodies, everything here was testing people’s faith, destroying people’s will.

The anti-aircraft guns near Moscow were groaning powerlessly. After all, these cannons had not been added to in a long time. Stalin, in order to make up for the losses of the army, had pushed most of the resources in his hands into tank production, so his anti-aircraft firepower was not as dense as people had imagined.

But today, because the German planes had sortied in such large numbers, these not-so-numerous anti-aircraft guns had still managed to shoot down several German planes. A soldier in an anti-aircraft observation post aimed his binoculars at the distant sky. A German DO-217 bomber was trailing a long plume of thick smoke, falling from the high sky.

Unfortunately, the crash of a few planes could not stop the German operation of dropping more bombs on Moscow. An aerial bomb exploded in the streets of Moscow. Shrapnel flew everywhere, shattering the shop’s plate-glass windows, igniting the curtains and draperies behind them, and even the heavy door of a hotel was punched with several ferocious holes.

There was no one here. After all, Moscow had its subway stations and proper air-raid shelter facilities. The good infrastructure had given the entire city a very high level of resistance to air raids. But although the human losses were not great, the buildings could not hide underground, so these ancient and sturdy buildings were all being damaged in the explosions.

“Target hit! The first wave of bombs has hit the target!” After flying over the target first, in the follow-up plane that was confirming the results, the German soldier who was watching the collapsing and burning houses with his observation equipment, shouted, confirming his unit’s combat results over the radio. They had professional photographic equipment, and their mission was to confirm the degree of the target’s destruction.

“Hey, I say, the place we just flew over, was that the Kremlin? I saw that golden spire, and it was surrounded by a sea of fire,” a German pilot asked the co-pilot beside him. “Did you see it just now?”

“I just saw it. I’m not sure if our bombs really hit the Kremlin… but I’m sure that building is completely finished,” the co-pilot replied, his voice a little excited. “My God, we’ve finally managed to take out that despicable Stalin…”

“Goodbye, Moscow… I think I’ll be the last person to see this city,” a German pilot who had bombed London said, repeating the words he had once said over London. “This city is finished, really finished.”

It could not be confirmed yet whether Moscow would really disappear from the earth, but what could be confirmed was that most of the buildings in this city had been affected by the bombing. As for how many, that would depend on the luck of these buildings. The lucky ones might just have some dust shaken off, but the unlucky ones might just completely collapse.

The German bombers’ continuous bombing could not last too long. After all, the bomb load of a medium bomber was limited, and the pilots were also extremely precious. To waste them for no reason was not in line with the German army’s consistent style. So after dropping all the bombs they were carrying, these German bombers changed direction and began to leave Moscow’s airspace.

And in such a large-scale bombing attack, most of the Soviet air force pilots did not even have the courage to take off and intercept. Only a pitiful 12 of the Soviet air force’s P-40 planes had urgently scrambled and entered the battlefield. Unfortunately, these 12 fighters had not even lasted 5 minutes before they were all eaten by the escorting German fighter units.

The gap between the fighter planes of the two sides was so huge, so huge that even if the fighter pilots of the Soviet Red Army had pushed their throttles to the limit, they could not get their fighters to the speed of the German air force’s. On the other hand, the difference in the quality of the pilots of the two sides was so great that the Soviet pilots did not even have the basic ability to dogfight.

In the one year of the Great Patriotic War, the Soviet pilots had bravely faced the German Air Force. Nearly ten thousand Soviet pilots, unafraid of sacrifice, had taken to the skies to fight the German planes. Unfortunately, these brave pilots had no way to make up for their equipment disadvantage, so they could only pay with their own lives.

In modern warfare, to cover the movement of ground troops, the air force units had to fight to the death. To defend one’s own important transportation hubs and cities, the air force units had to fight to the death. To reduce the losses of the ground defense units and to counter-attack the enemy ground forces, it also required the air force units to fight to the death. Countless Soviet pilots could only, again and again, be forced to take off to meet the enemy. The result was that they had saved the ground troops but had lost even more of their own.

Now, the Soviet Union was finally paying the due price for their operational method of endlessly consuming their pilots. They lacked a large number of pilots, so that even though the gap in the quality of their fighters with the Germans was gradually narrowing, the combat records of the two sides were gradually widening.

Compared to training a car driver, or an infantryman who could kill with a rifle, the time and cost required to train an air force pilot was really far, far greater. This was something that Japan, far away in Asia, had a deep understanding of. After their fighter pilots were lost, the replacement cycle was so long that it had made even the Imperial General Headquarters despair. If Yamamoto Isoroku had been given the choice, he would have preferred to have two of his fleet’s carriers sunk than to lose 300 precious fighter pilots.

Watching the German bombers that had patted their butts and had left, General Vatutin, who had just climbed out of his underground command post, felt a little like he wanted to cry but had no tears. His meticulously arranged air defense positions had, in the face of the powerful destructive force of the all-out German air force, been proven to be not worth mentioning at all.

The German Stuka bombers had, in their bombing of the city’s outskirts, destroyed 13 of the 20 Moscow high-angle gun defensive positions, and had completely destroyed 4 of them. And the news he had just received was that behind these huge losses was the embarrassing combat record of having shot down a pitiful 21 enemy aircraft.

Vatutin gave a bitter smile, and then called his aide to his front. “Immediately put all frontline units on alert. The German army may launch a ground offensive immediately after the bombing. We must ensure that the frontline positions are not easily broken through by the enemy!”

His aide quickly saluted at attention and, without having time to reply, rushed out of the command post. Outside the window was a huge crater. The wind, pouring in through the shattered glass window, made the maps on the wall and the books in the room rustle.

The bombing just now had been so shocking that it was only at this moment that Vatutin had remembered to inquire about the problem of the frontline defense. The fire trucks began to pour out from all directions. Because there were fires everywhere, these firefighters, and the women and children who were assisting them, could only start to extinguish the fires from their starting point.

Rubble and debris were everywhere, and many of the fire trucks could not reach their designated locations because the roads had been damaged. Apart from the area around Red Square, which was relatively clear and more important, the entire Moscow seemed to be plunged into a desperate chaos. For the first time, the people realized that the war was so close, so close that they could face death at any moment.

“Ring, ring, ring.” The phone rang. Vatutin picked up the dust-covered receiver on his desk and said, “This is Vatutin.”

On the other end of the line, Stalin’s voice came through. “Comrade General, the Kremlin was hit. Seven of the guards on duty and three attendants were sacrificed. For the parade, I had even ordered celebratory flags to be hung here, but unfortunately, they have all now become burning flames.”

Outside the window, the sound of German artillery could still be heard. Most of these sounds were concentrated in the western part of the city. Although it was far from Vatutin’s location, the muffled sound was still clearly audible.

And so Vatutin began to comfort Stalin, who was in a state of dejection. “Great leader, Comrade Stalin… the German artillery fire is still continuing. I hope you will pay attention to your own safety… I will rush over to see you in the afternoon.”

“Good. I will wait for you!” Stalin replied. “Then, Comrade General, do you think our plan for this parade should be continued, or would it be better to cancel it?”

At a time like this? You’re still thinking about your ridiculous military parade? Vatutin suppressed the anger and disdain in his heart and replied, “Great leader, Comrade Stalin, unless you want the whole world to see Moscow in such a state, otherwise, I think it would be better to cancel the parade. The Germans can not only bomb with their bombers, but they can now also shell us with their artillery. To hold a military parade is clearly unsafe.”

There was a long silence on Stalin’s end of the line. He then hung up without saying anything more. Clearly, his mood was probably very bad, perhaps because of the German shelling of Moscow, or perhaps because the parade had been forced to be canceled. But who knew?

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