Chapter 883: Brewing

Based on his experience, he predicted that the Soviet army would lose over a million men in the Battle of Stalingrad. This would undoubtedly be a huge loss for the entire Soviet Union. Even if they held Stalingrad with such losses, how many young men would be left in the Soviet Union?

This was not a good outcome, at least not for the Soviet Union. At that time, the Soviet Union would be a hollowed-out shell. Even if they won the war, it would take decades of accumulation to recover. In the rapidly changing future of those decades, would the Soviet Union still be a superpower in the world?

Of course, these were not problems that Rokossovsky needed to consider now. The problem before him was simpler: could Stalingrad ultimately be held? A simple question, but one that was very difficult to answer. Everything would depend on the effect of this counter-attack.

And so, Rokossovsky looked through the gaps in his fingers, which were covering his face, at the large urban combat map in front of him. His mind was filled with the thought of his troops being able to retake the lost defensive positions and being able to hold those places, to buy enough breathing room for his supply and transport lines.

On the German positions, the sound of gunfire broke the proper silence. A German rifleman, hiding behind a window, fired the first shot to stop the Soviet advance. After the gunshot, a young Soviet soldier fell to the ground. The bloody battle had thus begun.

The machine guns began to roar, and one after another, the Soviet soldiers were cut down by the bullets. But the attack was still ongoing. In the ruins, blood splattered everywhere, shrouding everything in a red atmosphere. The cruel slaughter and the resolute atmosphere spread everywhere, until the German defense line was broken.

On the German position, which had already become a pile of rubble, a Soviet soldier was examining the wound on his body. A bullet had struck the outside of his ribs, putting a hole in his clothes but only grazing his body. And so, he gritted his teeth, wiped away the still-wet blood with his hand, and then pressed a clean handkerchief to the wound.

At his feet lay the bodies of two German soldiers who had been killed by bullets. But from their attire, they should be some Ukrainian soldiers. Because these men were wearing the black uniform of the SS and had no regular epaulets or unit insignia. The Soviet troops had a custom of executing any soldier caught wearing an SS uniform on the spot, because they had no good impression of people in black uniforms.

In the German army, the people who wore the black uniform of the SS were either executioners, or the elite of the armored forces who had killed countless people, or the Ukrainian vassal troops who had betrayed the Soviet Union. For these three types of people, the Soviet side handled them with the principle of “kill if you can, don’t let go.” It was very cruel and bloody, but it also made a lot of sense.

The battle had just ended. Many of the bullet holes in the walls were still smoking. The Soviet soldiers were working hard to clean up the battlefield. Seeing that the temperature was getting higher and higher, the corpses would rot and spoil faster and faster. If these fallen soldiers’ bodies were not dealt with as soon as possible, then there would be no need for the two sides to fight anymore. This place would soon become a giant petri dish for a raging plague.

In this short assault, the Soviet soldiers had already lost nearly 300 men. And looking at the position, the Ukrainians had only left behind 50 bodies. This ratio infuriated these attacking Soviet troops—the Ukrainian defensive positions were simply too perfectly arranged. A German must have been guiding them from the side. The crossfire was brought into the battle in turns, which caught the Soviet army off guard. If it weren’t for the Soviet tanks arriving at the last moment, it was possible that this attack would have been in vain.

The battle had to go on. After all, the operational objective of the Soviet army this time was to counter-attack as much as possible to gain strategic space. With this objective in mind, the Soviet troops had to try to continue to attack forward.

A Soviet T-34 tank started up slowly. Its armor plates were not even painted. This tank had been mass-produced in Stalingrad, had no official designation, and was directly incorporated into the frontline combat units, to be used for as long as it could. Even under such harsh war conditions, the tank factories in Stalingrad had not stopped production. They repaired the damaged weapons and equipment for the troops and also took the time to assemble the half-finished tanks and hand them over to the defenders for use.

“Continue to advance. We must retake as many defensive positions as possible and drive the Germans out of our city!” a Soviet commander shouted, encouraging his men. And these Soviet soldiers, like machines, stood up and continued to advance with their weapons.

“General! The Soviet counter-attack has begun. As you predicted, they are expanding their connection with the Volga to cover their ships as they replenish their troop losses at night,” a staff officer said, handing the news that had just come back from the front to Küchler, who was looking at a map.

Küchler pointed to his ear and then said with a very calm and collected joke, “Yes, I heard. The problem is the direction of their counter-attack, and the strength of their counter-attacking force.”

A staff officer, based on the reports from some units, began to mark on the map which places had been lost. It was clear that the direction of the Soviet attack had roughly spread across the entire map. To say that this counter-attack was the biggest test the German army had faced since the attack on Stalingrad was not an exaggeration.

“Oh, attacking north and south… that’s easy to explain. But what’s this about a counter-attack to the west?” Küchler asked himself, his hand on his chin as he stared at the map. “Is it because they want to use this counter-attack to test just how tough I am?”

As he spoke, he was thinking about the countermeasures to take. In the end, he pressed his hand on the map and made up his mind. “Rokossovsky, since you want to know just how tough I, Küchler, am, then I will show you just why I was approved by the Führer to be the commander-in-chief of this N Army Group!”

“Order all frontline units to defend their positions to the death and not to retreat,” Küchler said. Since he had figured out the measures he was going to take, he did not hesitate any longer. He immediately ordered his subordinates to transmit the adjustments that the general headquarters had made to this Soviet counter-attack. “Transfer the 9th SS Panzer Division to launch a counter-attack from the north to the south. I want to shorten the Soviet-occupied area along the Volga by at least 2 kilometers before sunset!”

“Heil Führer!” a division commander of the SS saluted at attention and then turned and walked out of Küchler’s command post. Under Küchler’s N Army Group, the most elite was the 14th Wehrmacht Panzer Corps, and the most elite armored unit of this corps was the 9th SS Panzer Division.

“The rest of the 14th Panzer Corps will participate in the counter-attack from the front and repulse the Soviet offensive,” Küchler said with a cold laugh and then continued to give his operational orders. This time, he not only wanted to repulse the Soviet offensive, but also, after thwarting the Soviet counter-attack, to directly have his troops switch to a full-scale counter-offensive.

So this time he was not stingy at all but had thrown out all the most elite combat units in his hands, preparing to use the regular German army to give Rokossovsky opposite him a hard blow.

In the southernmost direction of all of Stalingrad, the German army had also committed two infantry divisions, along with the Ukrainian troops, to launch a full-scale attack on the Soviet army. It was not just Rokossovsky who was waiting for an opportunity to counter-attack. Küchler was also waiting, waiting for that one favorable moment for the German army when the Soviet army could no longer sit still.

“It’s very simple to thwart your attack! General Rokossovsky. I was just waiting, waiting to see when you would lose your patience. Now it seems your patience is a little less than I had estimated. Maybe it’s because you can’t afford to lose?” Küchler asked the map in front of him, as if talking to himself. Of course, the map could not answer any of his questions. But he still continued to ask, “Now that I have played my card, let’s see if you have a bigger one.”

“Ring! Ring!” In the German frontline command post, the phone on the desk rang. A division commander walked to the side of the phone, picked up the receiver, and then answered at attention, “Your Excellency, General! Yes! We have already prepared for battle! We can launch an attack at any time! Yes! Yes! Heil Akado Rudolph, our Führer! Victory for the Empire!”

Hanging up the phone, this division commander turned his head and looked at the Ukrainian general beside him, who was wearing an SS uniform but had only a Ukrainian freedom medal pinned to his chest. He broke into a grin. “This time we will launch the attack together. Your men can have a good look at how the grenadiers of the Third Reich fight.”

On one side of the street, a German machine gun nest was being pinned down by a Soviet tank, unable to raise its head. Many Ukrainian soldiers had already been driven out of their trenches by the attacking Soviet infantry. And on the other side of the street, a German Panther tank was slowly advancing. Behind this Panther tank, there was even a Ukrainian army Panzer III short-barreled assault gun following.

A German commander was synchronizing his watch with a Ukrainian frontline commander. The entire attack plan would be launched at the same time. The well-planned coordinated operation of the German army showed its powerful might here.

“At 12:00 noon sharp, the counter-attack will begin on time,” this German officer said, lowering his arm with the watch on it and smiling at his Ukrainian colleague. The Ukrainian officer gave a military salute and nodded with a serious expression.

While the German frontline units were in a flurry of activity, in the field airfield behind them, one after another of the German fighter planes were taking off. In the sky not far away, a bomber unit, in a formation of three planes, was assembling. A massive counter-attack was brewing.

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