Chapter 703: Snowflakes

A tiny snowflake drifted down from the sky. The temperature had unknowingly dropped to a bone-chilling cold. Exhaled breath formed a shallow white mist by the mouth. The cold steel helmet on the head was no longer stuffy; on the contrary, it felt a little cool.

The German M35 steel helmet was issued to the frontline Wehrmacht as early as the 1920s. This helmet was produced in two models: one was a cheap export model with a liner woven from rope, mainly exported to surrounding vassal states, with early products having only one sales channel, the distant China; the other was a high-end model with a leather liner, ventilation holes on both sides with punched rivets, a rain-resistant brim, and a rolled, exquisite edge. It was warm in winter and cool in summer, with first-class workmanship.

However, as the pace of German rearmament accelerated, the steel helmet became a hot commodity. Some non-frontline combat units in concentration camps were even issued with only one set of helmets for the sentries on temporary duty; the rest could only wear soft cloth caps. The distribution of helmets had thus become chaotic.

On the German front lines now, only platoon leader-level personnel were qualified to wear the exquisite early-model M35. The vast majority of soldiers used the “new model” without ventilation holes. The facts proved that a new model of car is not necessarily better, and new equipment is not necessarily an improvement.

The German forces on the Eastern Front had made very detailed preparations for the arrival of winter, including a white camouflage cover for their helmets and a windproof hooded smock for warmth. However, this set of equipment was not very comfortable, and its functions were not perfect. At the very least, the German gray-green multi-functional tactical vest could only be worn on the outside of this smock.

Of course, having something was better than having nothing. At least after the first snow fell, these items gave the frontline German troops a decent set of camouflage, which, compared to their famous and iconic gray-green uniforms, gave the grassroots soldiers a slightly better chance of survival.

Now another snow was about to fall. The sky over the entire Eastern Front was gloomy. A cold front passed through, bringing a biting cold wind that whipped against the muzzles of the steel cannons, making a whistling sound. The position was silent, as if holding its breath, waiting for that terrible time to arrive.

“Whew!” A German soldier, about 35 years old, pressed his left hand on his assault rifle and held a half-smoked cigarette in his right. He exhaled a puff of white smoke that was either his breath or smoke. His eyes, set deep in their sockets, stared at the muddy ground in front of the position. Further in the distance was a boundless forest, an area where the Soviets frequently appeared.

Next to him was an MG 42 machine gun position. About 100 meters to his right was a thicket of bushes, cleverly concealing a 75mm long-barreled anti-tank gun that could destroy most Soviet tanks from over 1,000 meters away—except, of course, for a monster like the KV-2.

This trench also extended to a salient not far ahead. That position was prepared for snipers who occasionally advanced and for anti-tank teams during large-scale battles. It was carefully camouflaged, and most of the men squatting inside were equipped with Panzerfausts, also waiting for the battle to begin.

The order for the highest level of combat readiness had already been given. Half an hour ago, all platoon-level units on the front line had received several more basic loads of ammunition. Everyone was required to remain at their cold fighting positions. The squad leaders and platoon leaders were repeatedly emphasizing the points to be aware of during combat, and the combat tasks to be completed at each position.

The man smoking was a veteran. His identity could be seen from the precious assault rifle he was equipped with. As a non-commissioned officer, he was the backbone of a combat squad, and his task was to hold the entire covering position near the machine gun. Smoking was not allowed, but because the squad leader was on the other side of the position, the new recruits around him did not dare to stop him from this suicidal-like behavior.

In front of the entire position, the snow and mud had mixed together a dozen days ago due to a slight rise in temperature, then had frozen over with the recent drop in temperature, and was now covered by the new snow. It did not look pure white but was mottled with a lot of black. Mines had been laid in many places months ago, and now there was no trace of them. The designated passages could only be distinguished by following a map; there were no markers or signs at all.

The sky was still gloomy. The snowflakes fell very slowly. There was not much wind, so when the falling snowflakes landed one by one on the white helmets, it gave a feeling of time slowing down.

But the speed of a bullet would not be slowed down in the slightest by the slow fall of the snowflakes. Just as the German veteran was puffing away, a bullet flew from the distant forest and struck the parapet of the trench less than 30 centimeters from him, splashing up a cloud of white ice and snow.

The German veteran was so scared he quickly dropped his cigarette, his knees went weak, and he ducked back into the trench. He felt his helmet to make sure he hadn’t been hit by a bullet, and only then did he relax a little. But before he could raise his head again, a more intense burst of gunfire came from the direction of the forest. The Soviet attack had begun without any warning.

The veteran moved to a different position and poked his head out for a look. He only saw several hundred Soviet soldiers charging out of the forest. Some were waving their guns, others were firing as they ran. In terms of scale, it was definitely the largest in two months, and the number of men did not look like a probing attack.

“Hold your fire! Automatic weapons, hold your fire! Rifles, return fire!” the veteran shouted. Several German recruits on the position, who had been aiming their Mauser 98k rifles for a long time, opened fire. The sparse crackle of gunfire rang out. The battle had just begun and was far from reaching its cruelest peak.

For the soldiers on both sides, this level of engagement was like an appetizer. The machine guns had not opened fire, and the heavy artillery had not roared. So the whole scene was not very intense. Only the occasional bullet hitting the dirt of the trench reminded everyone to be careful. Other than that, it was just a test of everyone’s usual marksmanship training.

It was clear that the German soldiers’ marksmanship was a bit better, and the accuracy of the German Mauser 98k was also slightly superior. After all, Germany’s mechanical processing was much stronger than the Soviet Union’s, and the great relocation of the Soviet arms industry had also directly affected the not-so-high quality of Soviet rifle production. Of course, in fact, the accuracy of the two weapons was actually quite similar. What affected their battlefield performance was mainly post-maintenance and other aspects.

The German soldiers’ shooting was very efficient, somewhat like a three-rank volley fire. Some would stand up to aim and fire, while others would crouch down to work the bolt and complete the loading action. And they had the cover of the trenches, so with almost no casualties, they had already killed at least a dozen Soviet soldiers.

As time passed, the Soviets also got closer and closer to the German position. An unlucky Soviet soldier, in the process of running forward, stepped on the trigger of an S-mine. This mine, known as the “Bouncing Betty” in the German Wehrmacht, immediately sensed the vibration from the outside and, without a doubt, went to work.

With a small thump, this bouncing mine flew up from the cold earth and exploded at a height of about 1.5 meters, spraying out a dense shower of metal ball bearings. And so, a storm of metal immediately swept the surroundings. A dozen Soviet soldiers were hit by these ball bearings. Those who were close were mangled, and those who were further away also fell, clutching their wounds, their screams incessant.

With the explosion of this mine, a forward German machine gun position also began to roar fiercely, with a sense of taking advantage of the situation. The sound of ripping linen made the Soviet soldiers despair. Although they were already very close to the German position, they were suddenly unable to advance another step.

Bullets swept towards the Red Army like a hailstorm. Some of the Red Army soldiers in the very front, wearing long cotton coats, were shot and fell in the snow. The blood stained the white ground red and flowed into the cracks in the black earth. The withered grass trembled back and forth in the wind, brushing against the faces of the fallen Red Army soldiers. Unfortunately, the open eyes on these faces could never close again.

A second mine exploded. The Soviets clearly realized the danger of entering a minefield. They began to slow down their charge but seemed unwilling to retreat in such a sorry state. So they advanced cautiously, hoping to reduce the casualties caused by the mines.

Thump! Another S-mine flew up. With a boom, many more Soviet soldiers fell in pools of blood. Finally, the gunfire began to thin. The Soviets were no longer advancing but were retreating while firing. A seemingly fierce battle was repulsed by the German army in a short time. Some of the German army’s fire points had not even had time to open fire.

BOOM! Before the German soldiers could begin to celebrate their victory, a large-caliber artillery shell slammed into their position not far away. Everyone, as they had been trained, clutched their helmets and crouched in the trenches, constantly praying that a shell would not land right in the middle of them.

One explosion after another began to rise and fall. The Soviet artillery bombardment seemed to have no end. With the sound of the explosions, one black pillar of smoke after another rose from the entire position, which could be seen clearly from a kilometer away.

In a concealed and sturdy observation post not far away, next to two battery commander’s scopes, a German officer was gripping a telephone and loudly reporting the battle situation to the corps headquarters in the distance: “Yes! There are heavy artillery shelling our positions! The scale of the Soviet attack is larger than expected! We don’t need support for now, but please prepare the assault gun units. I estimate they will be needed.”

Published: 2025-09-20T03:07:26.000+00:00
Last Edited: 2026-03-01T19:19:51.000+00:00
URL: https://www.patreon.com/caleredhair/posts/mtr-c703-139307857

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