afterglow

Chapter 588: The Story of the Southern Front

"There is nothing worse than a long civil war." - Prologue

(One)

The sound of raindrops drifted down from the gray sky, landing in puddles and creating ripples.

The truck carrying the recruiting officer drove into the campus of the Kazan State Conservatory of Music, and when it drove out two hours later, the carriage was packed with people.

The northern suburbs were once the base of the imperial army, but have now been converted into a training camp for new recruits of the National Republican Army.

The Austin truck imported from the UK many years ago was very simple, and the narrow cabin could only accommodate fifteen people at most, but now it could accommodate twenty.

The registry office was a wooden shed. The wooden floor in front of the registrar's desk creaked every time someone stepped on it. It had creaked nineteen times in more than ten minutes.

"Name and age." The registrar seemed bored and repeated the question mechanically.

"Sadok Biryukov, twenty years old," the last young man answered nervously.

"address."

"Kazan Conservatory..."

"I said home address!"

"9 152th Avenue."

The registrar wrote quickly, stamped it, handed over the registration form, and said quickly and indistinctly: "Now you are a member of the National Republican Army. Fight for your rights, and God be with you."

Then the wooden floor creaked again.

There were twenty more recruits in the training camp, and as of Sadok Biryukov, that was the 10,000,300th recruit so far, no more, no less.

A month goes by in a blink of an eye.

One day in mid-September, training was suspended and all new recruits were transferred to the front line to join the various troops.

"This is murder! They have not received proper training at all." said the British captain in charge of the training in surprise.

"We need people on the front line." A captain replied indifferently.

The recruits boarded the train to the front line overnight.

The military train was running on the rails, crossing the vast wilderness, more than 600 versts from north to south.

The sealed wagon was packed with recruits and their rifles. To prevent anyone from jumping out and escaping, the wagon doors were locked from the outside with iron chains.

The recruits were unloaded in a small town called Kamisin, less than twenty miles from the front line and out of reach of the enemy's artillery shells.

It was a busy scene here, with boxes of bullets and artillery shells being unloaded from trains by conscripted laborers and loaded onto trucks for transport to the front line.

Six anti-aircraft guns and three quadruple heavy machine guns were pointed obliquely at the sky in different directions to guard against possible air raids.

The recruits were at a loss as to what to do until they heard the officers' shouts, and then they were taken away, separated and assigned to various regiments, battalions and companies.

Private Sadok-Biryukov was assigned to the 75th Rifle Regiment of the 225th Rifle Division, and more specifically to the th Company of the nd Battalion of the regiment.

The confrontation has been going on for a long time, probably more than ten months, and only one veteran who experienced the initial battles is left.

After the first few months, most of the tanks on both sides were lost, the ability to attack and defend in depth no longer existed, and a stable battle line was formed.

About 150 versts due north of Tsaritsyn, the area where the two sides are currently fighting has become the site of a stalemate. The two armies have dug long, complex, and crisscrossing solid trenches along a curved line as the dividing line.

Each line of defense was based on trenches, with a large number of machine gun bunkers, artillery positions, shelters, supply stations, hospitals, canteens, post offices, and brothels built on them.

A dozen miles behind the line of defense is another line of defense. Even if the enemy manages to break through the first line, they will be blocked by the second line. The officers said this is called defense in depth.

Sadok-Biryukov came to the heavy machine gun squad he was assigned to. There were nine people in total, including him, serving two Browning large-caliber heavy machine guns.

In the bunker, he saw a group of people lazily playing cards, so he spoke carefully: "Reinforcements reporting in, sir..."

The men's reaction was muted, but soon changed as they saw Sadok pull several packs of cigarettes from his pocket.

A thin corporal dropped the cards in his hand, climbed up and came to him, and said quickly: "My name is Artemy, from Simbirsk, are these prepared for us? Thank you for your kindness."

After saying that, the thin man took two packs of cigarettes and put them in his pocket.

When Sadok was in the boot camp, he heard that the best way to get along well with the soldiers on the front line was cigarettes, and at the very least, to avoid being bullied, so he spent eighty kopecks to buy a dozen packs in the canteen.

This is a cheap, no-name brand of cigarette, almost the second cheapest available on the market. Affected by the war, the quality is much worse than before, but it is still much better than those distributed on the front line.

These cigarettes were "attacked by everyone" and were quickly divided up.

The soldiers then began to comment on the newcomer.

"You look like a student," someone said.

“Well, a month ago I was still at the Kazan Conservatory…” Sadok was still a little nervous.

"Music? Can you sing?" The thin Artemy was already lighting a cigarette impatiently.

"No...I play the cello."

“Future musicians!”

The squad leader of the heavy machine gun squad, Sergeant Gleb, was a sturdy man with broad shoulders and a loud voice. He looked like he could lift the two-pound heavy machine gun with one hand.

"You're lucky, kid. I've only recruited four new recruits in the past six months." He puffed on a rough cigarette.

This is the No. 17 heavy machine gun position, a bunker built with logs, steel plates and earthbags, which was a combat position for nine people...now it is a combat position for ten people.

(two)

Thousands of soldiers were stationed in the long, winding trenches, day after day.

At first glance, this is no different from the European war more than 20 years ago, but the tanks and planes are no longer as primitive and crude as they were back then; medical conditions are also much better. Even for a weak power like Tsarist Russia, basic blood transfusion technology and sulfonamide antibiotics have been used.

The cigarettes brought by Sadok really made the heavy machine gun squad happy for the day, but after smoking all these "exquisite" machine-made cigarettes, everyone had to roll their own cigarettes.

During the European War, Tsarist Russian soldiers would use any paper they could find to make cigarettes, including newspapers, envelopes, diaries, and even military orders.

This aspect is very similar to more than 20 years ago. For convenience, the logistics department of the National Republican Army usually only delivers tobacco to the front line, and the soldiers have to find ways to make their own cigarettes.

The newly arrived recruits had no status at all, and being beaten, scolded, and ordered around was the norm. Sadok was obviously one of the lucky ones.

Sergeant Gleb ordered Artemi to teach Sadok how to live on the front line and to familiarize himself with the route of this trench.

"It's relatively safe here. Apart from artillery shells and aircraft bombs, there's no need to worry about the enemy. The Reds won't launch a large-scale attack without tanks. At most, they'll just send a few small teams to sneak over at night for a surprise attack."

"How to deal with those surprise attack teams?"

"We have mines and barbed wire." Artemy pointed into the distance through the observation port of the bunker. "We also hung empty cans of gravel on the barbed wire. If someone touches it, it will make a sound. We just need to shoot in that direction."

"I see." Sadok nodded.

"These two heavy machine guns are made in the United States. They are very powerful and can even deal with enemies a mile away." As he said this, Artemy touched the receiver of the M2 heavy machine gun.

"You said they would only attack if there were tanks. Can this machine gun deal with tanks?"

"It was possible before, but not now. Tanks are stronger."

“What if the tanks come?”

"We have anti-tank guns and anti-tank cannons, but these are the responsibility of others. Our duty is to suppress the enemy's machine guns." Then Artemi introduced: "German tanks are very powerful. The British tanks we use cannot compare with American tanks, but British planes and American guns are very good."

In addition to two Browning large-caliber heavy machine guns, the heavy machine gun squad also had six Springfield rifles and a Thompson submachine gun.

Sadok also felt that the workmanship of these guns was better than the Mosin-Nagant rifles used in the training camp, just as the cellos at the Kazan Conservatory were far superior to those in high schools.

It was almost noon, and Sergeant Gleb asked them to take the lunch boxes for everyone in the squad to get food.

The two men left the No. 17 heavy machine gun position carrying ten pig kidney-shaped aluminum lunch boxes.

The trench is about two meters wide and three meters deep. The walls on both sides are covered with branches or wooden boards, and the ground is also covered with wooden boards. There is a ladder every ten meters or so.

This place is well connected, with many transportation trenches leading to other places.

As they walked towards the cafeteria, the sound of airplane engines was heard in the sky.

Then there were the sounds of "thump thump thump" of artillery fire coming from behind the position, and streaks of light cut through the blue sky!

Sadok was startled, but Artemi was calm.

"A single plane like this is a reconnaissance plane. It won't attack, so don't worry. But if you encounter a group of planes, you have to be alert. They will drop bombs and swoop down like hawks to strafe."

"Why are these reconnaissance planes here?"

"Probably trying to figure out our situation."

The canteen responsible for this section of the trench was less than half a mile away from the No. 17 heavy machine gun position in a straight line, but it actually took more than ten minutes to walk through the winding trench.

There was already a long queue here, and the soldiers were waiting with their lunch boxes.

Lunch was black bread and oatmeal porridge mixed with red sausage and cabbage, which looked terrible.

Sadok and Artemy first wrapped the bread in newspaper and put it in the canvas bag, and then filled ten lunch boxes with porridge.

On the way back, Artemi deliberately changed the route.

Passing by what looked like a large shelter, Sadok heard a shy female voice.

It seemed like the whimpers and groans of being bullied, but it did not feel painful. Instead, it seemed like there was a hint of enjoyment mixed in.

"I know every girl here." Artemy was very proud and introduced: "Everyone has a ticket every week. If you want to experience more love, you can exchange it with 40 cigarettes."

Sadok quickened his pace and shook his head, "I have a girlfriend..."

"Oh?" Artemy's eyes lit up. "Is she pretty? Red hair or blonde? You must have a picture of her!"

By the time we returned to the No. 17 heavy machine gun position, everyone in the class knew about it.

Unable to resist everyone's request, Sadok took out his treasured photos.

The soldiers gathered around to watch, and saw a small photo of a girl in a long skirt, with big eyes and long hair.

"A musician's fiancée is different!" someone cheered and laughed.

"Not even a fiancée yet..." Sadok corrected.

Sergeant Gleb patted him on the shoulder and said, "Just stay alive until the end of the war, that's all."

(three)

The Nationalist Republican Army on the southern front called their enemies "red vegetables" because their logistics were in a mess when British and American aid did not arrive last year. When the other side found out, they often boiled beets, potatoes, carrots, and beef in large iron buckets to make soup, making a famous dish, and used the aroma to persuade them to surrender.

In late October, things started to get weird.

The enemy's reconnaissance aircraft increased in number, flying in every day, exploring relentlessly.

An unconfirmed piece of bad news was circulating in the trenches - a friend at the headquarters said that photos taken by our reconnaissance aircraft showed that the enemy had hundreds of tanks gathering.

The next day, the cafeteria began serving white bread and cheese, as well as canned American luncheon meat.

This was a good thing from a food perspective, because the rough, hard black bread was disgusting, and these white breads, cheese, and luncheon meats were a real treat for the soldiers.

But on the other hand, this is a bad thing, because when things are abnormal, there must be something wrong.

On the fourth day, the superiors started distributing alcohol again.

The cafeteria modified it by mixing a small amount of wine with a large amount of vodka, and they proudly named it the Kamisin cocktail.

However, the soldiers' response was lukewarm, and many people thought it was a unnecessary move.

With delicious food and drinks available, the ominous premonition became stronger. Sergeant Gleb asked everyone to be alert and make sure there were bullets in their guns at all times.

On the fifth day, the other side started firing, sending out many propaganda bombs.

This type of shell will explode in mid-air, and the leaflets inside will float down from the sky.

Most people were not interested in the contents of the leaflets, a small number were tempted, but only a few dared to cross the death no-man's land about two miles wide between the two army's defense lines to surrender.

The officers were wary at first, but when they found that the soldiers could easily cut the leaflets into cigarettes, they stopped caring.

Day 7, the last day of October.

It was early in the morning, before daybreak, and it was still pitch black all around.

Sadok woke up from his sleep, and once again dreamed of the good times he had playing the piano with his girlfriend.

At this moment he heard a crisp sound, and a "clang" came from the endless darkness.

Sergeant Gleb opened his eyes instantly, and immediately rushed behind the heavy machine gun and turned on the safety.

"Deng Deng——"

The gunshot was extremely loud, and two tracer bullets cut through the night sky. The light was faint but it revealed a human figure.

"enemy!"

At this moment, the time has come to five o'clock.

Suddenly, flashes of fire appeared behind the enemy's position. It was the howitzers firing. In an instant, thousands of artillery pieces roared at the same time, and countless shells fell like raindrops.

At the same time, a large number of tanks had their camouflage removed and their engines started.

Tens of thousands of artillery shells exploded on the defense line, and the soldiers could actually feel the earth-shaking noise.

The two heavy machine guns in the bunker were firing desperately, firing fiercely in the general direction, and a 12.7mm ammunition chain was used up in a moment.

The loud noise of gunfire gave the senses an unprecedented shock. Everything around him seemed to be frozen and still. Sadok stood there in a daze, holding his rifle.

"Bring the ammunition boxes!" Sergeant Gleb shouted.

Suddenly, the sound of engines came from afar. The sounds of a large number of tank engines gathered into a torrent of sound waves, which made the soldiers terrified.

Flares were launched one after another, and the earth was illuminated by the pale light.

Everyone saw the scene in the distance, and the blood in their bodies seemed to freeze.

Those angular German tanks were coming towards us in an orderly manner, crushing the barbed wire and potholes unhindered. There were probably hundreds of them, followed by countless infantrymen. The shouts of "Ura" were like a wave!
The No. 17 heavy machine gun position was like a bead on a necklace, shattered by the overwhelming shock.

(End of this chapter)