Chapter 719: The End of Frustration
The snow has stopped! The weather cannot be controlled by man, as if it is toying with everyone, going its own way to the extreme. When the German army most hoped for good weather, bad weather came. The sky was covered with dark clouds, and snowflakes fell from time to time, so harsh it was despairing. But when the Soviets were winning battle after battle and were afraid of the weather turning for the better, good weather suddenly arrived, catching everyone off guard.
“Woooo… Woooo…!” The sound of the emergency assembly alarm echoed over the German frontline field airfield. One after another, Fw-190Ds were pushed out of their hangars and onto the cleanly swept runway. With one command after another from the control tower, these fighters took off and climbed with the roar of their engines, assembling into neat flight formations in the sky not far away.
The German Air Force pilots, who had been idle for several days, were now absolutely full of fighting spirit. After receiving the news that the sky would be clear for a short time, they began to move frantically, like hunters who had been cooped up for a long time, pouring out of their lairs and beginning to take off in droves to seek their prey.
It seemed as if they had waited for a whole century—at least these German pilots, enduring the pain of not being able to support their comrades on the ground, felt that a very long time had passed. They longed to take off and fight, even against the most ferocious enemy, which was much better than waiting on the ground.
And so, after the meteorological department had concluded that the weather would soon improve for a short time, they had begun to wait patiently. The result they had hoped for had finally arrived at this time today. As plane after plane flew into the sky, the entire battlefield was once again covered with dark clouds. It was not that the real dark clouds had increased, but that the planes that blotted out the sun made it look as if dark clouds were covering the sky.
In the huge flight formation, the radio was filled with a cacophony of voices. “Avenge our comrades on the ground!” “It’s our turn to go on stage! Bomb those damn Soviets to death!” “Let them see what the German Air Force is made of!” “We haven’t seen them for a few days, and these idiots have forgotten we exist above their heads!” Amidst this cacophony, the German planes gradually flew towards the target area they needed to attack.
The sortie of the German planes was within the expectations of the Soviet Red Army commanders. If Zhukov, Rokossovsky, and the other generals had simply prayed that the bad weather would continue, they would not have become the famous generals praised by later generations.
The Soviets had first prepared a rather brilliant response on the ground. Zhukov had used a large number of fake targets to confuse the German air force. These wooden tank models had four wheels and could be pulled by horses, following behind a large number of real Soviet tanks to attract the German air force’s fire.
Then the Soviets had used local materials. When the weather cleared, they had stopped their offensive and had begun to do their best to camouflage their tanks and armored vehicles. This was something they had practiced repeatedly. Compared to going to the battlefield to be killed, this kind of camouflage was no burden at all for the Red Army.
Another method was a bit less than satisfactory. To cover the ground troops and to reduce their losses as much as possible, the Soviet fighter units were required to take off with as many planes as possible to engage the attacking German air force units. In other words, Zhukov intended to delay the time it would take for the German Air Force to exert its power, regardless of the losses of his own air force.
Zhukov stood by a concealed shelter on the outskirts, his temporary command post in the woods behind him. He watched as the dark cloud in the distance gradually approached Minsk. A few minutes ago, he had just been brought to his current position by car. A few minutes later, he saw the German planes open their bomb bays in the sky.
One hundred “Butcher” bombers paid their respects to the important Soviet city, Zhukov’s headquarters, Minsk, dropping more than 700 tons of bombs here. These bombs destroyed the buildings in Minsk, blew up the roads in the city, and caused a large number of casualties and property losses.
And as the air defense force of the Soviet Red Army, the 20 fighters that had taken off to engage them were torn to pieces by the 20 Fw-190D fighters of the German escort before they could even struggle for a few moments. The ground anti-aircraft guns did return fire, but unfortunately, their numbers were far from sufficient to threaten the overwhelming number of German bombers.
In order to equip the attacking Soviet Red Army with as many anti-aircraft guns as possible, Zhukov had diverted a large number of the city’s air defense forces. The nearby Soviet anti-aircraft guns had all been assigned to Rokossovsky, Konev, and other frontline generals. The vast city of Minsk was defended by only one anti-aircraft artillery regiment, which was a drop in the bucket.
By the time the Germans left, these air defense forces had only shot down one Butcher bomber. This bomber crashed in the city, its fuselage broken into three sections. The engines burst into flames, and none of the crew survived. And the price the Soviet Union paid was much greater. The entire city of Minsk was a scene of ruins, and the civilians were displaced by this bombing.
Although they had made meticulous preparations, the Soviets were still exhausted by the German air force. Although countless fake targets had deceived the German pilots, there were still countless real targets that had not been fully camouflaged in time and were leveled by the Germans.
A fuel depot was accidentally hit by a bomb, and then the fuel exploded. The German Air Force then discovered the camouflaged Soviet vehicles around this target and launched a dense fire attack. The entire bombing area was a sea of fire, and countless Soviet soldiers died in this slaughter. In this one area alone, the bombs dropped by the Germans had killed 140 civilians and more than 900 Soviet soldiers.
Many targets were hit and exploded. A T-34 tank was hit directly by an aerial bomb, and then the entire vehicle was torn apart by the huge explosion, turning into steel plates and iron pipes that flew in all directions.
A huge crater was blown in a transportation hub by a bomb. It was still steaming. The snow had been blown away by the shockwave, leaving a round, black mark that was very obvious from the sky. Then another bomb fell, and the entire road was completely paralyzed.
As the battle time continued to pass, the German Air Force also began to suffer more losses. It was no longer just Soviet planes that were falling from the sky. Occasionally, a German plane could be seen falling, trailing a long black smoke, and then crashing to the ground and exploding, erupting in a ball of hot flames.
Countless Soviet planes flew towards the German fighters, dragging white smoke trails across the sky. The fighter planes of both sides were intertwined, as spectacular as a huge fishing net covering the sky. In a dozen minutes, more than 30 German planes were shot down. At the same time, at least 300 Soviet planes would never be able to return to the place they had departed from.
While the fierce battle for air superiority was still going on in the sky, another unit was busy. On the grass of a German airfield, the soldiers who had been sitting on the withered yellow grass finally heard the call to assemble.
A second lieutenant with his left hand wrapped in gauze walked to the side of a lieutenant colonel, the battalion commander. He stood at attention but did not salute, and said to his superior in a slightly hoarse voice, “Sir! All preparations are complete. We have been ordered to airdrop to the designated operational position. If nothing unexpected happens, it will be another rotten place.”
“Hehe, we’re destined to fight the cruelest battles in rotten places for the rest of our lives,” the lieutenant colonel said, turning around. He had a very beautiful Iron Cross with silver oak leaves hanging around his neck, which glittered slightly in the sunlight of the clear weather.
“You don’t have to go with us. According to the regulations, you should be able to apply for retirement and receive a generous discharge bonus to return to your hometown. If you’re willing, you can also apply to be a commander in a concentration camp. Your qualifications are more than enough. There will be no problem,” the battalion commander, Borol, who had been promoted to lieutenant colonel after the last bitter battle, said to Wilhelm Donner, who had been wounded but had not retired and left.
Donner adjusted his helmet with his disabled arm and broke into a grin, showing his white teeth. “A man always has to lose something to see clearly what he wants. I’m not suited to be a parasite in the rear. I still think the profession of a paratrooper is more suitable for me. Sir, let me jump with you.”
Borol sighed. The last time, the paratroopers had suffered heavy losses and had collectively received a combat award medal. But because the losses were too great, he, who should have been promoted to deputy regimental commander, had remained in his original unit, continuing to serve as a battalion commander. But compared to that deputy regimental commander, he still preferred to stay in a frontline combat unit. This place reminded him of Baru and his other comrades, and it allowed him to recall the days and nights he had fought.
“Remember, if you drag me down, I’ll kick your ass!” Borol said, shaking the heavy parachute pack on his back. He then looked at the familiar faces around him and broke into a grin. “Don’t be nervous this time. The place we’re jumping to is relatively safe. It’s all Germans down there.”
That’s right. The reinforcements that Akado had prepared for List were a full 20,000 paratroopers. They were to rely on planes to enter the battlefield at the last moment, as a strong support, to hold back the overwhelming Soviet offensive. Why hadn’t they acted earlier? It was actually just for the sake of secrecy, to let the Soviets get in deeper, so that they couldn’t turn back.
“Alright! Gentlemen! Tidy up your equipment! We are not the infantry transported by transport planes. We are going to enter the battlefield ahead of time and let those Soviets see what we are made of!” Borol shouted, motivating his soldiers. “Who are we?”
“German paratroopers!” everyone answered loudly.
“What are we best at?” Borol continued to ask.
“Fighting the most brutal battles!” everyone raised their right hands.
“Very good! All of you, on the plane!” Borol patted Donner’s shoulder, turned, and, with heavy steps, dragged his miscellaneous luggage and supplies towards the plane, whose propellers were already spinning.
Published: 2025-09-21T03:37:22.000+00:00
Last Edited: 2026-03-09T18:13:35.000+00:00
URL: https://www.patreon.com/caleredhair/posts/mtr-c719-end-of-139373341
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