Chapter 792: To the Bitter End

Anti-aircraft guns fired frantically at the sky. These artillerymen were doing their utmost to defend their own homeland. These soldiers desperately cranked the wheels that controlled the direction and elevation of the anti-aircraft guns, hoping to make these weapons fire more deadly shells.

A German bomber, trailing a long plume of thick smoke, plunged towards the ground. In mid-air, its wide wings broke off, and then on a hillside, it blossomed into a huge flame. No one on the plane could have survived. Not even a single charred corpse could be found.

However, further in the distance, on the German bombers that had long since flown past the anti-aircraft gun positions, the bombardiers were using their own eyes, through precise horizontal bombing sights, to aim at the important attack targets that had already been marked on the map. He calmly pressed the bomb release controller, and then the bombs hanging inside the bomb bay fell one after another, pulled down by gravity.

One after another, the heavy bombs fell in a not-so-precise parabola. The wind speed and the slight turbulence all caused these bombs to change their downward trajectory, right up until they landed on the target. Then came the huge explosions. The blast waves kicked up dust, the vibrations destroyed the structure of the buildings, the shockwaves tore apart everything in their path, and the flames of the explosion devoured all life. A terrifying explosion was completed in an instant.

The huge explosion, completed in an instant, caused a seven-story building in Stalingrad to collapse in a moment. Steel bars and stones flew everywhere. The civilians who had not had time to hide in the air-raid shelters watched in terror as the first bomb landed in the peaceful city, creating a terrifying scene.

They soon learned that this was only the beginning of a disaster, because the bombs falling from the sky were not one, not two, but thousands. More than 500 planes flew over the city in a sky-blotting swarm. At least 10,000 bombs were dropped on the streets and buildings of this city.

As with other bombings of cities and fortresses, the Germans were accustomed to mixing in a small number of napalm incendiary bombs with the high-explosive aerial bombs to increase the actual effect of their bombing. And so, the entire city not only had to face the devastation of the shockwaves and vibrations, but also had to deal with the unquenchable fires and the terrifying thick smoke.

But for now, they could not think that far ahead. The effect of the incendiary bombs had not yet manifested. The scene that was now presented to all the people of Stalingrad was an explosion so cruel it was suffocating, so powerful it was despairing, so terrifying it was soul-crushing.

A tall building began to sway and collapse under the destruction of the huge shockwave. Dust began to spread in all directions, pouring out from the windows and doorways. Then the tall roof began to fall, and the tiles and some of the metal frames on it crashed onto the surrounding streets. Finally, an outer wall collapsed, but the structure inside, twisted and stubborn, refused to fall.

Everything here had changed in an instant. Everything here had gone from beauty to death. Here, on the once-flat streets, now only scattered corpses were left, only huge craters and a spreading panic.

At the other end of the city, in the heavy industrial district of the Soviet Union, which was a key target, it was now a scorched earth. The factories that the German army, lacking long-range bombers in another timeline, had been unable to destroy, had now been easily damaged. To restore them to their previous output would probably take a full year.

One after another, the “Butcher” bombers flew over the city, dropping countless bombs on their target areas. The train station was destroyed by bombs, the railway that ran through the city was blown into sections of scrap iron, and the locomotive that had been stopped in the station was thrown from the tracks by the huge impact and overturned on the other side of the platform.

Beside a burning civilian house, the belly of a charred doll had been split open, the blackened cotton inside trembling with the slight breeze. Not far away, a building was still burning fiercely, and not far from that, a horse-drawn cart was overturned, its cargo scattered all over the ground.

No one had the leisure to care about the cargo, because their houses had already disappeared from the face of the earth. And no one went to care about the houses, because their relatives had also disappeared from the face of the earth. And no one went to mourn those relatives, because in the next second, they themselves also disappeared from the face of the earth.

To build a massive city might take a hundred years or even longer, but to destroy it seemed to not even take a month. When the German army had bombed London, they had turned that beautiful city into a pile of rubble. To this day, more than a year later, they were still clearing the rubble there and slowly rebuilding. So the German pilots had a great deal of experience in turning a bustling city into a field of rubble and graves.

In a concealed underground fortification on the outskirts, Rokossovsky, holding his binoculars, looked at the already unrecognizable Stalingrad. He seemed to be able to feel the fury of Stalin when he heard this news. He could only give a bitter smile now, and then helplessly order his troops to prepare for the rescue work after the bombing.

In fact, the Soviet Union’s preparations for this air raid were very thorough. From the moment these terrifying bombers had crossed the line of actual control between the two armies, the Soviet side had begun to prepare to deal with this air raid. But if one had not seen this situation with one’s own eyes, no one could have imagined just how daunting the destruction was.

“The fire department, how many people can be dispatched to help? Send as many as possible, especially on the factory side. I hear there are still a lot of unfinished T-34 tanks inside?” Rokossovsky asked, turning his head from the direction of the observation port to the original officer of Stalingrad.

“There are about 30 unpainted T-34 tanks in the factory, but it’s hard to say how many are left now,” an officer from the war equipment department replied. “There are also some cannons, not many, but… the caliber is all 122mm howitzers, and their performance is very good.”

“When you report it, report them all as destroyed,” Rokossovsky ordered softly. “Confiscate all the remaining weapons and report them as destroyed. Equip the two new recruit divisions mobilized locally in Stalingrad with all these weapons. I want to arm two more armored divisions before the Germans arrive. Is there any problem with that?”

“Comrade General, this… is not very good, is it? We…” an old general retorted.

But his words were immediately interrupted by Rokossovsky, and very ruthlessly at that. “Drag him out and execute him by military law for treason… When you report it, just say that he died heroically while rescuing factory materials during the enemy air raid, and was finally killed by a bomb.”

“This!… You!…” Before this old general could say anything, he was dragged out of the shelter by two expressionless Soviet soldiers.

Rokossovsky watched as the man was dragged out, then said slowly, “The Germans are approaching here. As the commander-in-chief of the southern front, who has taken over from Timoshenko, I have no time to waste with you people. From now on, I’m in charge here, understand?”

“Yes! Comrade General!” everyone saluted.

Only after witnessing this unprecedented bombing did Rokossovsky truly feel the weight of the burden on his shoulders. When he was attacking List in the central region, he had not directly faced the huge air superiority of the German army. By taking advantage of the snowfall, his troops had been able to fight on a relatively level playing field and had achieved a barely acceptable combat record.

Now the weather was gradually improving, the snowfall was not continuous, and the ground forces he was facing had changed from the infantry-based List’s Army Group E to the most elite G Army Group of the German army. Their combat effectiveness was clearly not on the same level. So he felt the danger before him and had to use tough measures to strengthen the power in his hands.

Let alone a tank, a cannon, even a single shell or a single bullet, he had to try his best to get his hands on. With the four hundred thousand or so troops he had in the Caucasus, plus the hundred thousand elite infantry who had retreated from Kharkov, and the still-intact 2nd Guards Armored Front, he had to defend the oil resources that the entire Soviet Union could not lose.

“Send the news back to Moscow. Report that Stalingrad… has been bombed by German bombers,” Rokossovsky said again, glancing at the burning and destroyed city in the distance. “And swear to Comrade Stalin that I, Rokossovsky, will share the fate of Stalingrad!”

Moscow, in the Kremlin, Stalin was frowning as he read the urgent telegram that had just arrived. He had already read the contents once, and now, irritated, he was reading the infuriating words a second time. In the end, he crumpled the telegram into a ball and threw it forcefully onto the soft carpet.

“That is Stalingrad! That is a city named after me! The Germans are provoking my dignity! They are toying with me!” he roared, sweeping the documents and fountain pens and other things from his desk onto the floor. “Damn Akado Rudolph! It’s you or me! If I don’t raze Berlin to the ground, the war will never end! Never!”

“Great leader, Comrade Stalin!” an aide gently reminded the furious Stalin. “The bombing of Stalingrad has certainly angered the entire Soviet Union, but now is not the time to be angry. What we need to do is to strengthen the air defenses of Moscow, Leningrad, and other important political centers…”

Stalin stopped roaring. This problem was indeed the first thing that had to be dealt with now. The frontline Soviet army was systematically giving up some of its defensive zones. Once the German army occupied those places, then Moscow, Leningrad, and other important political, cultural, and economic centers would all be within the attack range of the German long-range bombers, and even their medium-range bombers.

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