Chapter 772: Landslide

Humanity has always excelled at destruction, a fact proven countless times throughout history. The most glorious civilizations in history have all been built upon ages of accumulation and sedimentation, but when humanity destroys these civilizations, it often takes but a brief moment.

A cannonball landed next to a bunker. The massive explosion sent the camouflage and loose earth surrounding the bunker flying into the air. The reinforced concrete top of the bunker was suddenly exposed, and on the side near the crater, a considerable portion of the main structure, which had been buried deep in the earth, was also revealed.

The German attack was very clever, or rather, the rhythm was very well-controlled. After taking Sudak and Alushta with lightning speed and ease, the German offensive suddenly slowed down. The infantry began to advance step by step, and the large-scale artillery bombardment became like a lottery, a sudden shot out of nowhere.

A dozen or so Soviet soldiers walked from the trench behind the bunker into the dim interior. The two soldiers on duty inside were already lying on the ground, blood streaming from their noses and mouths, clearly killed by the shockwave from the shell that had landed too close.

Without a word, the living Soviet soldiers carried the two still-warm bodies out of the bunker and along the trench in the direction of Sevastopol. The terrain here was not conducive to a German tank attack, so they were lucky enough not to have to deal with the troublesome German armored forces.

“2nd Company has lost two more men. That’s the 17th today,” a veteran soldier said woodenly to an officer who was taking notes, his iconic Soviet Mosin-Nagant rifle on his back. He stood at the entrance of the statistics department’s shelter. “When will the replacements arrive? Our company doesn’t have many men left who can fight.”

“Manpower is depleted. Apart from the General Headquarters, all military administrative departments have been cut to 30% of their normal strength. From today on, apart from ammunition, there will be no more reinforcements,” the officer in charge of statistics said with a helpless sigh. “Medicine is also running low, so you’d better pray you don’t get wounded… otherwise, it will be very painful.”

“Since we followed those leaders and came here, which day hasn’t been painful?” the veteran sneered and complained. Under normal circumstances, no Soviet soldier would dare to speak like this, but in this extreme environment, it seemed that no political commissar had the leisure to find trouble with the frontline combat soldiers. Everyone knew that perhaps in a few hours, these soldiers would no longer have the chance to complain.

The officer in charge of statistics had a helpless look on his face. He nodded and said, “For no good reason, he led us to run south, and we ended up in this dead end. I’ve also heard… just heard… that Comrade Stalin is very dissatisfied with our commander-in-chief. Not only is he not giving us winter supplies, but he won’t even let a ship come here to rescue us. Sigh.”

The more he spoke, the more disheartened he became. After all, being besieged in Crimea was not an inescapable situation. If Khrushchev had not had a falling out with Moscow, it would have been possible for the Soviet Union to organize a rescue and evacuate tens of thousands of men. But now it had come to this. Tens of thousands of men had fought to the end, only to have to wait for death in a foreign land, branded as traitors. This made people feel a little unwilling.

Who is willing to die when they can live? When there is a chance to live, who is willing to truly give up their own life? The Soviet Red Army, trapped in Crimea and fighting to the death, had been shouting about sacrificing themselves for their country. For most of them, it was just a morale-boosting slogan. In the end, how many could truly do it?

“To hell with fighting for the country. Back in the motherland, we’re probably already traitors who have defected with that fellow Khrushchev,” the veteran said with a frown, his voice filled with hatred. “In the end, our families will be exiled to Siberia, while we have to die a muddled death in this godforsaken place! It’s really… frustrating.”

“I heard that yesterday, that guy went crazy and executed an officer, and also forced a lot of soldiers to counter-attack and get themselves killed? Is that true?” The officer in charge of statistics was clearly very curious about the gossip. He looked around and, seeing that no one was paying attention to him, walked out of the shelter, lit a cigarette at the entrance, and asked after exhaling a puff of smoke.

The old soldier shifted the rifle on his shoulder a couple of times to keep it from slipping, then said in a low voice, “The officer was shot, but I heard that those soldiers didn’t follow the order to counter-attack at all. The frontline commanders all turned a blind eye. No one reported it.”

“Is that even possible? The planned counter-attack wasn’t launched? Does that mean we still have a reserve of 3,000 men?” the officer’s face was filled with disbelief. The nature of frontline officers concealing the execution of an operation and refusing to carry out a superior’s mission was extremely serious. If discovered, it would mean death. No one would dare to be so reckless in normal times. Now, not only had someone refused to carry out an order, but they had also been able to conceal it so easily. This showed that the commander-in-chief had already lost control of the overall situation.

The old soldier glanced at his surroundings, then leaned closer to the officer’s ear and said in a low voice, “The colonel of our regiment has already discussed it with his officers. Once the Germans attack, we will surrender… to be taken as laborers by the Germans is better than to die a meaningless death here.”

“…This!” At the mention of surrender, the officer was clearly also tempted. After all, he had already been branded a traitor by his own country. His family, those who were meant to die had already died, and those who were meant to be exiled had already been sent to Siberia. He was all alone. It was indeed unreasonable not to plan for himself.

“Cough, cough!” Not far away, an officer walked over. He had clearly overheard a part of the conversation. As he approached, he deliberately coughed twice to alert the two men that someone was coming.

But when he reached their side, he just said in a low voice, “Don’t spread such rumors. Be careful someone hears you. If one of those political commissars is determined to die with that fellow, they might just really take you out and execute you.”

The two men immediately shut up, nodded to each other, and then went their separate ways. The officer in charge of statistics didn’t even have time to finish the cigarette in his mouth before he threw it on the ground and hurried back to work.

At around eleven o’clock in the morning, the German army opposite launched a probing attack. After a round of artillery preparation, about 300 German soldiers began to attack the 1,500-meter-high mountain. They cautiously approached the Soviet defenders’ position, only to find that the Soviet soldiers opposite them had no intention of opening fire.

“What’s going on? Comrade Colonel. The Germans have already completed their mine-clearing and are beginning to destroy the barbed wire. Why haven’t your men opened fire yet?” In the frontline command post on Roman-Kosh mountain, a political commissar in charge of supervision frowned and questioned the colonel beside him.

“The distance is too great. To open fire so early would be to expose our fire points, wouldn’t it?” The colonel glanced at the officer who was supervising him and slowly prevaricated. “Military matters are my responsibility. It’s best you don’t interfere.”

Something’s wrong! If it were normal times, this colonel, who was used to being submissive, would certainly not have spoken to him in such a sarcastic tone. The political commissar was no fool and immediately realized that the atmosphere in the command post was not right. Subconsciously, he placed his hand on the pistol at his waist.

With his palm touching the grip of his gun, his confidence grew. The political commissar immediately and sternly questioned, “What do you mean? In the past, you would always open fire as soon as the enemy approached the minefield. Today, you are holding your fire and waiting for the enemy to cross the minefield and obstacles. You…”

He had just said this when he saw one white flag after another being raised on his own position. His eyes immediately widened. Now, even if he were an idiot, he knew what the problem was.

And so, the hand that was not on his gun pointed at the colonel, and he began to curse, “Well, well! You dare to surrender! Aren’t you afraid that Comrade Khrushchev will find out and have you shot…”

Crack! Before he could finish, an officer behind him shot him. The bullet tore through his chest, leaving a not-so-small hole in his body. Blood immediately gushed out, staining the light green military greatcoat he was wearing red.

This political commissar looked down at the hole in his chest, which was still spewing blood. He then slowly moved his eyes, turned his head, and looked at the officer who had shot him. He extended his hand and pointed at the other. “You…”

Crack! Before he could continue, a second bullet had torn through his stomach. And so this political commissar fell unwillingly, his soul leaving his body bit by bit.

Crack! As he fell, the other officers in the command post also opened fire. The few political commissars who were frozen in place were soon turned into sieves. One had just shouted, “I surrender too,” when he was shot through the head and fell to the ground with an unwilling expression.

Soon, the terrified German army finally figured out what the Soviets were thinking. More German soldiers entered the Soviet positions. The Soviet soldiers, with their hands raised high, began to be orderly escorted out of their trenches by the German grenadiers, who were holding their rifles.

“Bad news! Bad news! Comrade Khrushchev! Roman-Kosh mountain, Roman-Kosh mountain’s main peak!” an officer scrambled into Khrushchev’s office, startling him as he was staring blankly at a map.

By the time Khrushchev had reached the observation shelter and had raised his binoculars, he saw a huge German national flag, flying proudly in the wind, on the mountaintop in his field of view.

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