Chapter 764: People with Firm Beliefs

As he crawled towards that rifle, he saw the comrade with the blood-streaked face at the anti-aircraft gun position. That man had just managed to wipe the blood from his own face, only to see a Panzer III assault gun slowly drive past his side. And several German grenadiers had already spotted this poor soul and were pointing their various guns at him.

“I have a wife and children at home! Let me go! I beg you,” the Soviet artilleryman pleaded mournfully. No one wanted to die in a cold trench, and no one wanted to end their life just like that. Those who faced death with equanimity were, after all, a minority. To want to live was to be a normal person.

“What is he saying? Does anyone here speak Russian?” a veteran German soldier holding an MP-44 assault rifle asked, turning his head to his comrades. He was a squad leader, responsible for commanding his unit to cover the Panzer III assault gun in front. This was a rare piece of advanced equipment in their M Army Group. When attacking strong fortifications like bunkers, having this thing versus not having it made a huge difference.

“I don’t know. Maybe he’s trying to persuade you to believe in that whole Communist thing. These Soviets are all dangerous elements. Their brains have been burned out by Stalin,” a young soldier said with a smile to those around him, holding his Mauser 98k rifle.

“Hehe.” “Haha.” The surrounding German soldiers all laughed along. In their hearts, what this young man said was not wrong at all. The Soviets’ brains had been burned out. They fought a hopeless battle without fear of death, no different from a group of lunatics.

This position was very open and the terrain was flat. The German bombers had dropped a large number of napalm bombs, burning the entire battlefield. So this attack was not difficult for the German army; they had not even encountered any decent resistance. The Soviet soldiers here were almost all wounded. Most of them could only wait for the Germans to arrive, without even the strength to raise their weapons and fight back.

The Soviet soldier who had just fled into the trench simply closed his eyes and began to play dead. His courage had been broken, and he had no thought of resisting at all. In his view, as long as he lay there like this, he could escape this terrible catastrophe.

Crack! A middle-aged German soldier raised his G43 semi-automatic rifle and shot the pleading Soviet on the ground in the head. He looked at the soldiers around him, who still had smiles on their faces, and said seriously, “Don’t make fun of your opponents. Give them their dignity, and you will receive the same treatment when your time comes. Continue the search. Gather the unwounded Soviets and send them to the rear!”

“Yes, sir!” The several young soldiers who had been laughing just a moment ago quickly wiped the smiles from their faces, put on serious expressions, and began to search for any Soviets who were playing dead. They carefully searched around the anti-aircraft gun position. Two of them pointed at the damaged anti-aircraft gun, as if commenting on this piece of scrap metal that had been destroyed without achieving anything.

Your brains are the ones that have been burned out! You come to our homeland, shoot at us, drop bombs, and then say our brains have been burned out by Stalin? If we didn’t resist, then our brains would really have been burned out! the old Soviet soldier cursed in his mind. He wriggled forward another stretch. He was closer to that gun, and he also knew that the Germans were closer to him.

You have your firm beliefs, and I have mine. You believe your Führer can bring you victory. What I believe is simpler: whoever hits me, I hit back! he muttered to himself as he approached the weapon in front of him.

Someone had killed the neighbor who had joined the army with him. Someone had killed his good friend in the army. As a man, he should pick up his weapon and avenge these friends and familiar people. This was a man’s responsibility, and a veteran’s persistence.

“It’s a pity I have no skills. I can’t make wreaths, and I can’t make coffins, so I can’t bury you, nor can I pray for your souls,” the old soldier said, extending his arm, his palm pressing on the rifle’s sling. “But I can kill, I can shoot, so I should avenge you, I should…”

He struggled to pull the rifle’s sling with his hand, pulling the Mosin-Nagant to his side. He glanced at the magazine; there were indeed still bullets inside. He worked the bolt, chambering a round, then leaned against a rock and began to aim with the sights.

On the anti-aircraft gun position in the distance, two German soldiers were lighting each other’s cigarettes. After sizing up the scrapped Soviet anti-aircraft gun, they were completely unaware that danger was not far from them.

The assault gun had stopped after advancing a few dozen meters. Some German soldiers were busy filling in parts of the trench so that other vehicles and equipment could pass. More soldiers had already crossed over some rocks on both sides and were approaching the top of the slope.

This old Soviet soldier pointed his gun at the two young German soldiers who were smoking. Then he suddenly realized that shooting a fool would be a waste of an opportunity, so he adjusted the angle of his rifle again and pressed the sights onto the German squad leader who had shot and killed the Soviet artilleryman.

Before he could pull the trigger, an armored car passed between them, blocking his line of sight. The machine gun on the armored car riddled the Soviet soldier who was playing dead in the middle of the trench with bullet holes, making him deader than dead.

The old Soviet soldier’s tense muscles relaxed for a moment. Then, as the armored car was about to move out of the way, he once again took up his aiming posture. Unfortunately, by the time he had done so, the squad leader was no longer in his original position.

“Damn it!” After cursing, the old Soviet soldier adjusted his gun again, aiming at the two young German soldiers who were smoking there. He hesitated for a moment, then pointed his muzzle at the German who had just been mocking the Soviet soldiers, his finger on the trigger.

“If I were you, I’d drop the gun in my hand.” A cold gun barrel was pressed against the old Soviet soldier’s steel helmet. Just as he was concentrating on aiming at the German soldiers in the trench over there, a Panther tank had already driven past him from behind. The German grenadiers following this tank had no trouble spotting this wounded Soviet soldier.

Clearly, this German soldier could speak some Russian. He was holding a Mauser 98k rifle. From his attire, he should be a clerk. The old Soviet soldier did not move, because if he did, the German soldier he was aiming at would be out of his range of threat. “Do I look like someone who is afraid of death? To be able to kill one of you, I am already very happy.”

“Sir, Stalin is a tyrant. He has committed massacres in Ukraine, Belarus, and Siberia. You have no need to continue fighting for a demon,” the soldier who spoke Russian said. Soldiers who spoke Russian generally had to do some work of instigating defections and persuading surrender, so they were usually quite eloquent. As soon as he opened his mouth, he was very articulate, and what he said sounded very reasonable.

“So you just walk into someone else’s house with a weapon and teach another villain a lesson for the master? And then you just stay and don’t leave? You and Stalin are the same, neither of you is the embodiment of justice,” the old Soviet soldier replied. “Believe me, the only one who can judge everything is God. You, clearly, cannot.”

“Drop your weapon. I will take you to the field hospital in the rear. You might still be able to go home and see your wife and children. Don’t do anything stupid,” the German soldier said, trying to persuade him. They had met on the battlefield, each for their own country. If it weren’t for this environment, the two of them might have been able to chat in Russian for a long time.

“I’ve never done a stupid thing in my life, kid,” the old Soviet soldier said with a laugh. Then, with determination, he pulled the trigger. “But at the last moment, I hope I can do one.”

Crack! The gunshot rang out. The German soldier didn’t hesitate either. Killing was not a new experience for him. He also pulled the trigger of his own weapon. The bullet pierced the steel helmet and blew the old Soviet soldier’s head apart. “Crack!”

Blood splattered, a little of it even splashing onto the German soldier’s military boots. He looked into the distance, where a German soldier had been shot and had fallen to the ground. The surrounding soldiers were shouting, “Hey! Someone’s firing! Someone’s been hit! Medic! We need a medic!”

Fortunately, this young German soldier had only been hit in the arm. The bullet had entered from the side, passed through his arm, and then grazed his chest before flying off. He had been lucky to escape with his life. By the time the Germans were looking for the Soviet soldier who had ambushed them, they only found a corpse with its head shattered.

“Was it him who fired just now?” The leader was the squad leader with the G43 semi-automatic rifle. He looked at the German soldier who was still wiping the blood from his boots and walked up to him to ask.

“If you’re asking about the Soviet soldier who wounded that young soldier over there, I think it was him,” the German who spoke Russian said, wiping the blood from his shoes clean. He looked up at the German squad leader in front of him.

“Thank you. If it weren’t for you, I think we might have lost an excellent soldier,” the German squad leader said, forcing a smile. “These Soviets are unwilling to lay down their weapons even at death’s door. They have the same firm beliefs as us, and a tenacious character.”

“The difference is, the weapons in our hands are more advanced than theirs,” the German translator said with a smile. “This is war. We fight for our future, and they for theirs.”

The German squad leader smiled along with him, nodded, and turned to leave. For him, there was no need to worry about what the enemy was thinking. He only needed to know that he had to eliminate the enemies who did not surrender, and that was enough.

“Don’t thank me,” the translator said, turning and leaving as well.

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