Chapter 805: Oscar

In the morning, the German troops at this bridgehead had already disguised themselves to be indistinguishable from the Soviet Red Army. They stood guard, shouldered Mosin-Nagants, and patrolled with a practiced air, even checking passing vehicles.

A column of Soviet Red Army soldiers in trucks, escorted by two armored cars, drove over from the highway in the distance. The soldiers drew closer and closer to the bridgehead, finally stopping in front of the checkpoint. The leading Soviet soldier handed over his documents and then asked to see the commander of the bridge’s garrison.

“Hello! Comrade Company Commander! May I ask which unit you are from? What is your business here?” The German special forces commander, disguised as a Soviet officer, smiled as he took the Soviet officer’s documents. After a pretense of looking at them, he handed the booklet back and asked casually.

The officer put away his documents, sighed helplessly, and said, “Hmph, don’t even mention it. We heard the Germans might be airdropping paratroopers in the chaos. We’ve been ordered to search since last night, with no food and no rest.”

As he spoke, he looked into the distance, where several German soldiers were building a fire and cooking, the food looking delicious. The Soviet officer couldn’t help but swallow and gave the German officer an embarrassed smile. “We haven’t found anything, and we’re starving. Could we…”

“Of course! We have plenty of food here. It’s a checkpoint, after all, people often leave things behind.” The German officer saw the signal from a hidden outpost in the distance, and his smile deepened. He placed one hand on the other’s back and extended his other forward in a gesture of invitation. “A train that passed yesterday left some beef and bread.”

“I truly envy you. You don’t have to fight on the front lines and still have so many good things. It’s simply too fortunate,” the Soviet officer said with an envious look, his stomach already empty from the invitation. “Comrade Company Commander, you are too hospitable. I am from the 197th Infantry Division of the 2nd Guards Tank Army. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

As they spoke, they had already entered a building. The German officer smiled and replied, “How unfortunate. I am the commander of the German SS Special Operations Regiment, Viper Action Group.”

The Soviet officer was taken aback, and then he felt his neck being throttled from behind. Before he could even figure out what was happening, his fragile cervical vertebrae had been snapped. After a crisp cracking sound, his entire head was twisted at a bizarre angle, and he collapsed in a heap in the corner behind the door like a pile of mud.

“A call just came in from the Soviet dispatch department. The train is almost here. It will arrive in about 15 minutes,” a German soldier hiding behind the door reported to the German officer as he took down his assault rifle and held it.

“Go. Leave through the door on the other side. Inform everyone to prepare for battle. The demolition charges on the railway are ready. Since we were sent here in secret, we naturally have to make a big scene, play a big game,” the German officer said, glancing at the corpse on the floor and giving his orders in German. “Make it clean. Try to leave the armored cars intact. We might still have use for them.”

The German soldier nodded and then slipped out through the door on the other side. The German officer looked out the window. His men had already naturally mingled with the newly arrived Soviet soldiers. This was an ambush with the element of surprise, a sneak attack of the utmost secrecy.

Rat-tat! Rat-tat! A machine gun nest on one side suddenly opened fire. A dozen or so Soviet soldiers, caught off guard, fell to the ground. The remaining Soviet soldiers still didn’t know what was happening, their hands still holding the cigarettes that their comrades opposite had just helped them light. They looked in the direction of the gunfire, not expecting the bayonets that were already piercing their chests from another direction.

“Hey! Why? Aren’t you from the village next to mine, on the outskirts of Smolensk…” a young Soviet soldier asked in confusion to the acquaintance he had just been chatting with, watching in shock as all his comrades fell to the ground.

“I’ve memorized this line several times. Who knew I’d actually run into a ‘fellow countryman’,” the German soldier replied coldly. He drew the pistol from his waist and, without hesitation, pulled the trigger, shooting the young man who had just been happily talking about his hometown to the ground.

A Soviet armored car driver, seeing that the situation was not good, scrambled onto his vehicle in terror, wanting to get inside and escape. But he had just opened the hatch when he was hit by a German sniper lying in ambush in the distance. He clutched his chest and rolled off the armored car, bright red blood splattering all over its front.

“Confirm positions of friendlies!” a squad leader on the scene shouted loudly in German. Everyone raised their left hands and began to confirm each other’s positions. In the end, they found that no one was mixed in among them, and no enemy had escaped their slaughter.

“Alright! Let’s get to work! Get into position. After the demolition team takes care of the train, use the radio to inform the surrounding friendly forces that the operation is complete!” The frontline overall commander ordered, stepping out of his cover. All the German troops began to run to their respective positions. No one paid any more attention to the bodies lying on the ground, though a few Germans drove away the blood-stained armored cars.

“Wooo!… Clang, clank…” In the distance, a Soviet train with a red flag on its locomotive was speeding towards them. The German soldiers, lying in ambush in their prepared shelters, began to wait silently, waiting for the moment they had meticulously planned.

“Demolition team! Detonate!” the German commander ordered loudly. As soon as his words fell, the members of the demolition team beside him connected the power to the detonator and then pressed the detonation switch.

BOOM! With a loud bang, the explosives that were originally intended to blow up the bridge exploded at the head and tail of the train. The immense force tore up the steel rails, causing the entire locomotive to overturn on the side of the road. The cars behind it all derailed with a huge shudder and then tipped over on the other side of the tracks.

The Soviet soldiers who had been standing on the train, escorting it, were all thrown to the ground by the explosion. Most of them had lost their lives. The few soldiers who had not died were already completely incapacitated. The flour, vegetables, and other grains that had been covered by tarps on the train were also scattered all over the ground as the cars overturned and broke apart.

Behind the cars carrying the grain were the cars carrying the soldiers. These soldiers were not yet issued with weapons. The huge vibration made these poorly trained young Soviet soldiers scream in terror. Some of the cars had already overturned, and the men inside, with the doors facing down, were trapped and could only pound on the sides. Other cars, being further away, had not overturned, and the soldiers inside had already kicked open the sliding doors and jumped out of the cars, which were no different from a prison.

The Germans lying in ambush on both sides of the road began to strafe with the Soviet Maxim heavy machine guns. Bullets flew into the crowd, kicking up a spray of blood. Screams were everywhere. No one knew what was happening. They just pushed and shoved, wanting to get away from this place that had been stained red with blood.

“Damn it! The ones firing are our own men! Our own men!” a Soviet new recruit who had gotten a clear look at the uniforms worn by the Germans shouted. But a bullet soon hit his body, and he fell along with the other corpses. Further in the distance, most of the fleeing Soviet soldiers had also gotten a clear look at the “friendly forces” who were firing at them and were screaming curses.

“Bastards! We’re on the same side! Don’t shoot! We’re on the same side! We’re replacements! Replacements for the front! Soviets!” an officer leading a group tried to salvage the chaotic situation, but he was soon shot through the head by a German sniper from the woods in the distance.

“They’ve defected! They’ve gone over to the Krauts!” a shrill voice shouted from somewhere. The other Soviet new recruits immediately accepted this version of events, because the “friendly forces” who were firing at them were not listening to their explanations and were ignoring the obvious military uniforms they were wearing.

“Damn it! We have to get out of here! Quick! Run back along the railway!” a Soviet soldier shouted, leading the people around him. They fled in a panic back along the railway they had come from, running frantically in the direction they had come from, ignoring the bullets flying behind them and the comrades who were falling beside them.

A thousand Soviet new recruits were being routed by a hundred or so Germans, with no ability to fight back. At least 500 soldiers’ bodies lay on the ground, along with an overturned Soviet train.

“A bunch of idiots! If we hadn’t shouted that for them, these idiots still wouldn’t have thought that their friendly forces had defected,” a German soldier sneered, putting a piece of snow on the steaming Maxim heavy machine gun. He had just killed at least 50 Soviet soldiers with this one machine gun.

“If they were smarter than you, you’d be the one lying on the ground now,” the assistant gunner beside him said with a laugh, his assault rifle slung over his back. The two of them then looked back at the Soviet soldiers who had been lying in the trench since yesterday and sneered.

“Clean up the battlefield! We’ll have to hold this place on our own for a while longer. Reinforcements will be here soon. Everyone, get ready,” the German commander said, looking at the still-steaming battlefield. “Communications, send a message to the surrounding friendly forces and to headquarters. Tell them that everything is proceeding according to plan.”

Guderian, who was waiting in the army group headquarters, finally received the telegram he had been waiting for. The message sent by the other party was very simple: “Password ‘Oscar’. Operation ‘Roleplay’ has been successfully completed. We can proceed to the next phase of the plan.”

Guderian looked at the various commanders who were also waiting in the command post and said with a smile, “Everything is going smoothly! Everyone, begin to execute the second part of the operational plan!”

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