Chapter 464: German Counter-attack
“Soldiers, half a year of war has taken you all over Europe! You swept through Poland, defeated France, and turned the German nation, which everyone once bullied, into the invincible Holy Greater German Third Reich of today,” the German Führer, Akado, said calmly, standing before a microphone in a spacious, brightly lit hall filled with countless high-ranking German officials.
Rat-tat! Rat-tat! On the Eastern Front, a German soldier was traversing his MG42 machine gun, firing a dense stream of bullets and cutting down hundreds of Soviet Red Army soldiers.
Beside him, another grenadier pulled the pin on a hand grenade, then, with a powerful swing of his arm, threw it into the distance. He then hugged his helmet and ducked back into the trench, waiting for the sound of the explosion.
Boom! The explosion rang out. Beside the rising smoke, a Soviet Red Army KV-1 heavy tank, its tracks churning up mud, rolled over the bodies of the fallen Red Army soldiers. And more Soviet soldiers, holding their weapons, were charging forward again, hunched over, alongside their tanks.
“Your victories have brought countless glory to the fatherland! It can be said that it is the blood and sweat you have shed that has earned Germany its current reputation of being invincible! Now, some people question your courage. They think your past victories were just luck!” Akado said, staring at the countless officers below him, his speech deliberate and powerful.
“York! Ammo! Ammo!” a German soldier shouted to someone in the distance. Around him, enemy bullets kicked up clumps of dirt. Not far away, another German soldier shouldered a Panzerfaust and aimed at an approaching Soviet tank. With a loud thump, a trail of white smoke and a rocket slammed into the tank.
With the explosion, the Soviet tank’s track was broken by the massive vibration and, with a clatter, fell to the ground. The moment the Soviet tankers poked their heads out of the damaged vehicle, they were cut down by a hail of German bullets.
Not far away, behind a German 75mm anti-tank gun disguised as a bush, several German gunners were staring intently into the distance. They looked through their sights at the enemy position, where three Soviet tanks were slowly advancing.
Akado stood on the podium, the focus of all eyes. The lights shone on his black uniform and new leather shoes. This slightly thin man drove countless women mad. Many socialites and noble ladies had even offered themselves to him at banquets, but few had ever succeeded. Anna, Fanny, and Mercedes had raised Akado’s own standards of beauty, so in recent years, the Führer’s private life had remained largely unchanged.
He basked in the immense glory, accepted the worship of the people below him, and continued, “Today, the bright red hammer and sickle flag of the Soviet Union wishes to push its faith across all of Europe. Do we let those madmen enter the gates of Europe and eradicate the capitalism we are so proud of, or do we fight back?”
“Fire! Fire! Kill those Soviets!” At the same moment, a German officer, holding an assault rifle and reloading, turned and shouted the order. Behind him, at a machine-gun post, two gunners were desperately aiming their weapon at the sea of Red Army soldiers.
Beside them, a German medic was bandaging a wound on a grenadier’s neck. A stray bullet had just grazed him, but luckily it had not hit the fragile artery or his throat.
And at the far left of this machine-gun position, a German soldier was lying prone in the trench, the butt of his G43 rifle pressed to his shoulder, fiercely pulling the trigger. Crack! Crack! After firing two shots, he had to duck down, because the enemy’s return fire was clearly not weak, and bullets were hitting the dirt in front of him like rain.
Two grenadiers, hunched over, ran through the winding trenches, finally reaching the end of one and dropping a crate of grenades in the soft mud. They shouted that they had brought the ammunition and then, with their own rifles, helped to fire back at the approaching Soviet soldiers.
Several soldiers quickly turned, pried open the nailed wooden crate with their bayonets, then grabbed two grenades in each hand and returned to their positions.
“This is a disaster for Western capitalism! This is a regression of human civilization! Gentlemen! The time to test us has come! No matter how great our victories have been, if we lose this one battle, then Europe will cease to exist!” Akado raised his right hand and shouted, “Everyone must give their all! Defeat the Soviet invaders!”
A German assault gun slowly drove up a high slope, revealing its long gun barrel to the Soviet troops who were constantly attacking the German defensive lines below. On the hull, a commander was observing the battlefield with his binoculars. “The right flank is about to be broken!”
“Fire! Try to destroy the Soviet tank attacking the right flank!” he shouted the order to his gunner, lowering his binoculars.
Boom! A shell was fired with precision. Soon, the targeted Soviet tank was smoking. After all, compared to these battle-hardened German armored units, the quality of the Soviet tank crews was more than a little lacking. They could never pull off a feat like hitting an enemy tank from 700 meters away with one shot, nor could they do things like have their commander stick half his body out of the hatch to direct the tank.
With the cheers of the Germans on the position and the increasingly dense gunfire, the German assault gun joined the defensive line. The originally crumbling position instantly became impregnable, and the Soviets once again retreated like the tide.
Berlin, at a banquet in the Führer’s residence, Akado stood at attention and saluted. “I need you! I need you to dedicate everything to Germany! I need you to join me in driving the Soviets from our land! We will liberate Ukraine! Liberate Belarus! Liberate all the regions oppressed by the Red Soviet Union!”
Germany, Polish theater, frontline headquarters in Warsaw. Brauchitsch picked up the phone and gave what he considered the most important order of his life. “All combat units, attention! This is Field Marshal von Brauchitsch! As the Führer’s representative, I hereby officially order: ‘The counter-attack begins! Operation Requiem is now in effect!'”
On the flanks of the protruding defensive line, a thicket of bushes suddenly shook. The camouflage branches and nets were cast aside, to be collected later by the logistics troops. And the German panzer forces, their true forms revealed, charged, spewing black smoke, onto the open ground that had long been prepared for them.
One after another, Panther tanks pointed their long 75mm gun barrels in the direction of the Soviet forces. They had been preparing for a long, long time, waiting for this order for a long, long time. Now, the counter-attack the Germans had dreamed of had finally begun. And with the German counter-attack, the German-Soviet War was pushed to its first climax.
“Operation Requiem! Begin!” Kluge, the supreme commander of the northern theater on the Eastern Front, shouted his order into the phone.
“The counter-attack begins! Proceed according to the original plan!” in the central region of the Eastern Front, General List said to his subordinates, standing unmovably before the map table.
“The Reich begins its counter-attack! Long live the Führer!” in the south of the Eastern Front, Model said with a smile, his hands clasped behind his back as he looked at the smoking front line in the distance.
And at this moment, the German bomber formations, flying over the actual line of control, descended from the clouds with the roar of their engines. A thousand German aircraft sortied at the same time, a sign that the German Air Force had truly matured. In terms of command, coordination, and mission formations, it had become a qualified air force in the eyes of General Kesselring.
Unlike the Soviet formations, which, although using a thousand planes at once, were rigidly clustered together and useless for anything other than looking intimidating, the German thousand-plane formation was a true combat formation, a flexible and battle-ready force. So although the Soviet air force sent 300 planes to intercept, they gained nothing.
“A million-strong army will follow me to the enemy’s capital, Moscow! Let’s see who dares to question our strength then!” Akado waved his hand, pointing to the distant east. “Capture Moscow! Capture Stalin!”
At the banquet, all the nobles and dignitaries raised their arms and echoed the Führer. “Capture Moscow! Capture Stalin! Capture Moscow! Capture Stalin! Long live the Führer, Akado Rudolph!”
In a nameless small town in the central Polish theater, on a piece of open ground, were parked the latest German Tiger tanks. This was the headquarters of the 502nd Heavy Tank Destroyer Battalion. Through the radio headset, the attack order from the divisional headquarters had already been received. Raine shouted the order to prepare. “Start the tanks! Check ammunition and fuel! We move out in one minute!”
Soon, with the roar of their engines, a Tiger tank with the hollow number 113 painted on its camouflaged turret was the first to charge onto the road beside the open ground. Following it was tank number 112, and then the third tank also charged onto the roadbed. With the roar of their engines, the famous 502nd Battalion drove towards their battlefield.
“Rein, the Führer’s speech just now was really impressive. Capture Moscow, capture Stalin. Just thinking about it gets my blood pumping,” Marcus said excitedly through the headset.
“That’s a long way off. I can’t think about it. Since we’re the vanguard this time, all I need to do is complete my mission,” Rein said, looking at the distant horizon. “And this time, the mission is to encircle the Soviet armored forces in front of us!”
Published: 2025-08-27T04:26:26.000+00:00
Last Edited: 2025-11-18T12:07:19.000+00:00
URL: https://www.patreon.com/caleredhair/posts/mtr-c464-german-137441479
Advance chapters at Nightjar Reads · nightjarreads.com