Novel Full Chapter 94 Annihilation
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The white smoke that erupter over Karl’s position left him stunned.
His first thought was that it was enemy artillery, but he quickly realized that obscuring visibility now was of no benefit to the enemy.
If that Rocossov was the renowned general the rumors claimed, he would not make such a mistake.
This had to be fire support from friendly forces.
He immediately picked up the phone and shouted, “This is friendly fire, our allies are supporting us! Once the enemy’s long-range fire is blocked, prepare to wipe out the advancing enemy tank units!”
Indeed, even in such circumstances, Major General Karl still believed he could destroy the onrushing T34s—given that the enemy’s long-range artillery was cut off.
The commanding officer of the armored battalion responded, “Understood, General! We still have 17 long-barreled Mark IVs, enough to take care of those T34s!”
Just as his voice fell, Karl saw a T34 get hit. Sparks flew as the shell penetrated the front armor of the tank, and in the next moment, the tank burst into flames, with the burning Ante tank operator jumping out and rolling on the ground.
Major General Karl exclaimed with delight, “Destroy them! Quickly!”
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Kexikoff furrowed his brow inside his own tank.
Unlike Rocossov’s First Mobile Group Army, Tank Army 40 had scant radio equipment, and in these smoke-shrouded battlefield conditions, Kexikoff had no idea what was befalling his troops or their situation.
He could only try to piece together the battlefield situation from the sparse communications coming from the command tanks.
Suddenly, a clear voice came through the headphones, and Kexikoff recognized it as the commander of the 41st Tank Regiment: “The enemy only has a dozen long-barreled Mark IVs, just a dozen! Charge them, and if it doesn’t work, ram them!”
Kexikoff’s brow tightened even more. Did it sound like trouble?
How could this have happened?
It was only then that he noticed the rumbling of the tank destroyer’s gunfire had stopped.
He looked questioningly towards their positions and saw they were relocating.
Then Kexikoff finally noticed the smoke laid down by the enemy was intensifying, blocking the tank destroyers’ line of sight.
He immediately turned toward the high ground where the commanders of the First Mobile Group Army were situated and saw Yegorov giving orders.
Kexikoff picked up the handset, adjusted the frequency, and called out loud, “Kexikoff calling Yegorov, Kexikoff calling Yegorov!”
He saw a signalman pass the field phone to Yegorov, and the next moment, the commander of the guards’ first motorized infantry looked over.
“I’m Yegorov, go ahead.”
“My troops are in a bad situation, the enemy seems to be attacking my men! Think of something fast!”
Yegorov’s reply came through the headphones, “Let them release smoke.”
“We’re not equipped with smoke bombs!”
Yegorov was silent for a few seconds then said, “Then how do you counter the enemy’s advantage in long-range firepower?”
“We don’t, actually if you’ve driven a T34, you’d know that we often can’t see where the enemy is when charging. If we need smoke, it’s provided by the artillery!”
Yegorov said, “Don’t panic, command your units to retreat back into the smoke. Once we encircle them, we can inflict casualties on the enemy.”
Kexikoff replied with an ashen face, “Our radio equipment isn’t sufficient, I repeat, we don’t have enough radio equipment to execute a unified retreat command amidst this chaos!”
Through the radio came Yegorov’s Ante curse, “Damn it! Why aren’t the radios supplied to every vehicle yet! How many long-barreled Mark IVs does the enemy have?”
Clearly, Yegorov was also aware that only the long-barreled Mark IVs could fully nullify the armor advantage of the T34s.
“Not sure, they say about a dozen. My battalion commander has ordered a ram assault on these Prosen tanks! But the effect is unknown!”
Yegorov again fell silent for a few seconds before answering, “Then I wish you good luck.”
Kexikoff pursed his lips, his expression serious. He was about to respond when Yegorov suddenly said again, “Wait, reinforcements assigned to us by the Corps Command have arrived!”
Kexikoff turned and saw a large cloud of dust on the eastern highway, obviously a column of tanks advancing.
Yegorov continued, “It’s Colonel Zinov’s direct Army Group tank unit and the repair tank battle group, all veterans! And they’ve got smoke bombs! They must have smoke bombs!”
Kexikoff was overjoyed, and though he could only see the tanks entering the dust they raised, he still pounded the turret of the command tank forcefully and shouted, “That’s great! Get them into the fight quickly!”
“I’ll order them forward immediately! Hold your positions!”
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40233, commanded by Captain Semyon, was hit.
As the dizziness from the impact subsided, he felt a hot breeze on his back, and turning around, he saw a fire had broken out in the turret.
The loader was sitting in the flames, breathless. The smell of burning flesh assaulted Captain Semyon’s nostrils.
Then Semyon heard the driver opening the hatch, clearly alive and making an accurate assessment of the tank’s condition.
The captain also immediately pushed open the turret hatch, trying to climb out of the tank, then suddenly discovered he couldn’t muster the strength in his lower body.
He looked down and saw his pants were soaked with blood.
At that moment, Captain Semyon knew he couldn’t make it out.
He looked toward the sight in front of him, where a photo of his wife and daughter was tucked into the crevice. Both were smiling at him.
In that instant, the captain made up his mind.
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He struggled with both hands as he climbed into the driver’s seat and forcefully pushed the control stick.
Though the turret was on fire, the engine and gearbox responded to Captain Semyon’s operation.
He pressed his eyes against the driver’s observation window, desperately searching for the firing Prosen Tank— Continue your journey on empire
Then he charged forward in the burning tank.
The engine and gearbox roared, and the T34 seemed to become a part of Captain Semyon, both making a final stand.
Captain Semyon called on the name of Saint Andrew, hoping for Divine Power’s guidance to keep the tank’s engine working a while longer.
Suddenly, the target he had chosen turned its cannon toward him.
The next moment, tank number 40233 was hit again.
There was an ominous sound from either the engine or the gearbox, but Semyon, unfamiliar with the driver’s position, didn’t know what it meant.
All he could do was cry out, “General Rokossovsky! Protect me! Mother Ante, protect me!”
The engine noise grew louder, but the tank kept moving forward!
It was as if something was indeed responding to Captain Semyon’s prayers.
Just a little more!
However, the enemy tank went into reverse and began to retreat.
In that instant, despair seized Captain Semyon.
With a crisp bang, the gearbox finally gave way, tank number 40233 slowly came to a halt, and Semyon slumped forward over the two control sticks.
His eyes were still fixed to the observation window, watching the enemy tank widen the distance.
The enemy’s gun barrel was aimed at the driver’s compartment.
In the blink of an eye, a shell from the side struck the enemy, sending sparks flying; the enemy tank suddenly stopped retreating.
Then, Captain Semyon watched as the skilled Prosen Tank Operator clambered out of the tank and attempted to jump into the underbrush for cover.
Machine gun fire swept in.
Semyon saw the enemy driver hit in the foot, tumbling head over heels into the underbrush.
He also saw the electrical mechanic disembark to run behind the tank, only to be struck in the back by a bullet.
The loader who emerged from the side of the turret stayed shivering in the shadow of the tank, while the gunner who came out from the other side wasn’t so fortunate, getting his shoulder shattered by machine gun fire.
Next, a second armor-piercing shell struck tank number four, igniting flames, and the Prosen commander, who hadn’t managed to climb out, screamed miserably atop the turret.
Captain Semyon couldn’t speak anymore; he stared at the burning tank number four, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly.
With that smile, he departed, not seeing Colonel Zinov’s command tank charge next to the enemy tank, use the wreckage as cover, and open fire continuously.
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Major Karl heard someone shouting through the radio: “Enemy reinforcements are coming! Enemy reinforcements!”
He quickly brought the microphone to his mouth, “What’s going on? How many reinforcements?”
“I don’t know!” said the battalion commander, his voice wavered, who had just assured that he could destroy Ante’s advancing tanks. “Our long-barreled Mark IVs are almost gone! Retreat, General! If we don’t retreat now and the enemy surrounds us, it’ll be too late—our Mark IIIs can’t beat those assault guns!”
Major Karl clicked his tongue, “All right, retreat immediately, I repeat, retreat immediately!”
Just then, as if guided by fate, Major Karl suddenly turned to look at the flank.
He saw the dust.
And because the grass there was rather low, he clearly saw a kind of low-profile assault gun speeding through the shallow grass.
Then, all the assault guns turned uniformly—an indication that they all had radios.
In that moment, Karl felt a chill in his heart, but he still comforted himself: those assault guns were nearly two kilometers away; they shouldn’t be able to hit the division headquarters’ tanks directly—
Major Karl saw a flash.
The scene reminded him of the antiaircraft battery’s simultaneous fire with their 88mm guns.
Before the sound of the cannons reached him, the armor-piercing shells were already whistling in.
The command tank’s accompanying vehicle suddenly burst into flames; the tank operators, engulfed in fire, jumped out of the tank, screaming miserably as they rolled on the ground.
The Major broke out in a cold sweat, his entire scalp numbing.
It was over; the enemy’s assault guns could penetrate the Mark III at a distance of two kilometers!
No, even the highly anticipated new tanks would be penetrated by these things at over a kilometer away, so it was no surprise that the Mark IIIs, which were old models, were compromised—
Major Karl finally realized it was time to run, but by then, the second flash was already lighting up his view.
Major Karl’s consciousness froze at that moment.
He felt no pain, nor could he hear his adjutant’s cry of alarm.
By the time the adjutant dragged him out of the burning tank, most of his body was charred, even his proudly-worn Iron Cross was scorched black.
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