Chapter 756: One Man's Battle

A Tiger tank drove slowly over a relatively flat road. On both sides of the road, countless Soviet prisoners of war walked with their heads bowed. They were expressionless, disarmed, and under the guard of German soldiers, they were slowly walking in the opposite direction.

Rein leaned against the hatch of the tank’s turret, watching with a cold expression as these Soviet prisoners were about to be sent to a concentration camp to replace the Poles. He felt not the slightest bit of sympathy. His mission here was to eliminate the Soviets. The faster he killed, the sooner he could escape this hell.

The Germans had built roads and railways for the Soviets for a full ten years. During the German-Soviet honeymoon period, these roads and railways were a testament to the unbreakable friendship between the two countries. More than one road was named “Frankfurt Road,” and more than one railway was named the “Berlin Line.”

When they first looked at the map, many German soldiers could not believe their eyes. Their own hometowns were used to name the enemy’s roads, and it was the enemy themselves who had named them. Things are sometimes just that strange, making one feel that the world is truly wonderful, wonderfully bizarre.

After Akado began to control the military’s finances and had become a pivotal figure in the Wehrmacht, he had been building European-standard railways and roads for the Soviet Union. This project had been ongoing since the secret cooperation between Germany and the Soviet Union had begun, and had only officially ended a few weeks before the two countries had officially fallen out.

The entire road construction project had earned Germany countless amounts of wheat, potatoes, steel, timber, oil, and rare metals. In short, at that time, Germany needed everything, and the Soviets were willing to give anything for their economic construction. The two countries were like a perfect match, hitting it off immediately.

The result was that when the Eastern Front war began, the Soviets had used the railways built by the Germans for rapid transport and had confidently launched a summer offensive in Poland, only to be beaten back by the well-rested German army. Now, Germany was using these railways and roads to advance, which suddenly made the Soviet high command realize: these roads were the attack routes that the Germans had prepared long ago!

For example, right now, Guderian’s Army Group G was driving on a very flat road, supported by a European-standard railway transport line that had already been repaired and put into use. The logistical support for the current Army Group G was so good it was almost unbelievable. It seemed that even during the campaign in France, they had never received their desired supplies so promptly.

The Soviet Red Army in the southern region was collapsing too quickly. These temporarily formed armies, which had not even been able to complete their training, had very little combat effectiveness. They were filled with patriotic fervor, but they simply could not resist the steel torrent formed by the German tanks and armored cars.

The result of this overly rapid collapse was a situation that was very favorable to the German army: most of the bridges and roads remained intact. The lack of deliberate sabotage had saved the German army a great deal of time in repairing these roads. What made Guderian even more satisfied was that the routed Soviet Red Army had left behind too many useful things, such as the fuel that was piled up near the supply points and had not yet been transported away or destroyed.

Having captured the enemy’s fuel, and with the enemy not having destroyed the roads, railways, and bridges, the German panzer troops had entered a state of wild abandon, reminiscent of their time in France. The armored units advanced rapidly, leaving their own people far behind.

They had left behind their friendly infantry and the heavily burdened artillery, and they had also left countless enemies behind them. They attacked frantically, capturing one nearby village after another. Something that had happened long ago was happening again: a single tank with a dozen or so grenadiers would dare to launch an attack on hundreds, even thousands, of Soviet soldiers. And what was shocking was that such attacks often ended in victory.

Compared to the German army on the northern part of the Eastern Front, where every battle was fought with great difficulty, the fighting for the German army in the south seemed to be a bit fresher and brighter. That terrible war of attrition and trench warfare had not occurred. With Guderian’s one order, the southward-advancing German army had embarked on a smooth and successful path.

In a dozen days of fighting, Germany had already eliminated over 30,000 Soviet Red Army soldiers and had captured another 70,000. In other words, the German army was eliminating the southern Soviet Red Army at a rate of ten thousand men per day. At this rate, Guderian would soon be able to digest the more than 300,000 Soviets he had encircled near Donetsk.

Don’t think that the Soviets really faced death with equanimity, to have 30,000 killed but only 70,000 captured. Behind this data were more than 200,000 Soviet troops who were being chased all over the place by the German army. These troops did not dare to stop, nor did they have the ability to fight back. They could only let the German armored units hunt them down, and they had long since lost any so-called combat effectiveness. These troops were actually already prisoners; the only difference was that they had not yet laid down their weapons.

Rein’s unit had been in continuous combat for ten days. In these ten days, Rein’s company alone had captured a full 3,000 Soviet soldiers. They sometimes had to slow down to wait for the officers and infantry sent by the division to count and receive the prisoners.

Sometimes Rein even suspected that the Soviets were deliberately abandoning their prisoners to slow down the German offensive. After all, the prisoners crowding the roads and the Soviet soldiers who would occasionally appear on the roadside with their hands raised were the main force that was slowing down the German advance.

Under a signpost at a fork in the road, Rein’s Tiger tank stopped. After all, the decision of which direction to attack next was up to the battalion headquarters. He had arrived here ahead of schedule and could only wait for tank No. 114, which was not far behind, guarding the prisoners, to catch up before he could continue his advance.

Suddenly, Rein sensed danger. His eyes became sharp, and he quickly moved his position to one side. A bullet then struck the tank hatch behind him, creating a shower of sparks. Only then did the damn sound of the gunshot reach Rein’s ears.

He glanced out of the corner of his eye in the direction from which the bullet had come. It was a patch of woods. A dangerous sniper was clearly hidden in the woods, waiting for an opportunity to fire on a big shot. Rein’s current rank was already enough to make a sniper take a risk, not to mention that he was the commander of a Tiger tank.

But the other side had clearly not expected that the target of their carefully planned sneak attack would have dodged the bullet as if he had foreseen it. And so, this hidden Soviet sniper did not follow the regulations and move his position, but immediately fired his second shot at Rein.

In the woods, a Soviet sniper, camouflaged with a white cloak, pulled the trigger. The second bullet flew out of the barrel. He had been hiding here for a long time. The Soviet Red Army prisoners on both sides of the road were, in fact, the ordinary soldiers of his unit.

He had been ordered to lie in ambush here and do his best to stop the Germans from advancing further. The Soviet Red Army soldiers in front of him had only resisted for a few dozen minutes before they had completely collapsed and surrendered. And only he was still holding his rifle, carrying out the mission his superiors had given him.

To stop the German offensive, to protect his motherland. This was his thought, simple and clear. He had sworn never to retreat a single step, until the end of his life. This was his own persistence, and his own one-man war.

Unfortunately, the second bullet also failed to hit the young-looking German commander. As an infantryman, he had never heard the terrifying legend of the German tank No. 13. He just worked the bolt of his rifle again with his hand and then chambered the next round.

This Soviet sniper raised his rifle again and put his eye to the optical scope. In the crosshairs, the German tank commander no longer showed his head. And at that moment, the sniper noticed that the tank’s turret was turning, its dark muzzle already pointing in his direction.

“Damn it!” The Soviet sniper quickly got up and moved in the opposite direction of the turret’s turn. He ran quickly through the snow, hoping to shake off the following gun barrel. But how could a single person possibly outrun the rotation speed of a Tiger tank’s turret? At close range, he might have a chance, but from over 100 meters away, it was really impossible.

BOOM! Without the slightest hesitation, the sight of Andre’s Tiger tank was naturally much more powerful and clearer than a sniper’s scope. He also had various markings as reference for aiming. So this one shot was clean and decisive, exploding not far behind the Soviet Red Army sniper.

The massive blast wave threw the Soviet sniper to the ground. But fortunately, he was not hit in any vital areas. Only one of his legs was injured by shrapnel in the middle of his calf, which made it impossible for him to move quickly for a time.

He struggled to sit up, hoping to move his body. Although he had already made up his mind to die in battle here, no one really wants to face death. He hoped he could live a little longer, to kill a few more German devils, and then die a glorious death here.

Rein poked his body out of the turret, the very accurately tuned MP-44 assault rifle in his hand. He had ducked his head back just now to get this rifle. The distance between the sniper and the Tiger tank was actually not very far, otherwise the Soviet sniper would not have been able to make such an accurate shot. And so, Rein, holding his assault rifle, aimed at the Soviet soldier who was sitting on the ground, struggling and writhing.

Rat-tat! With a precise burst, Rein’s bullets crossed the short distance and pierced the Soviet sniper’s back. This Soviet soldier struggled twice and finally fell to the ground, his face buried in the snow, silent.

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