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"The Heart of Germany"

Crossing into World War II-era Germany, yet only a lowly lieutenant paratrooper with no background, no connections. Am I to drift along with history, enduring setbacks in Britain, getting battered in Crete, freezing in Russia, crouching in Normandy to dodge bombs? No, my ambition still burns bright; why fear leaving a legacy of scorn behind? From military greenhorn to war veteran, Logan underwent a transformation in a few short months that defies imagination. From the astonishing events at Dunkirk to the globally watched Battle of Britain, the roaring Barbarossa in Russia, what's the next target? Logan says: "In...

sckyh · War
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248 Chs

Chapter 211: War Sniper

In the streets filled with various gunfire sounds, a small squad of German soldiers, wearing short-brimmed paratrooper helmets, cautiously advanced along the angle between two buildings towards the shipyard wall. Among these 7 individuals, the tall leader carried an MP-38 submachine gun, followed closely by a rifleman with his rifle stock against his shoulder and the muzzle slightly down, assuming a standard firing advance posture. Behind them, another soldier carried the "Stielhandgranate" nickname "Iron Fist" anti-tank rocket launcher, its firing tube already open, ready to strike targets within a 50-meter range at any moment. The following four soldiers varied in stature, each armed successively with a submachine gun, a Mauser 98K, "Iron Fist," and another Mauser 98K, one after the other, awaiting the optimal moment for the assault!

On the rooftop of a building behind them, two German machine gunners, also wearing short-brimmed steel helmets, resembled two gray frogs. Their faces rested lightly on the gunstock, eyes scanning the intersection ahead through the sights. At the slightest movement or gunfire from any window, one of them would suppress with a short, precise burst. Ahead of them sat a square ammunition box, doubling as an observer of the surroundings, the young face filled with combat tension.

The assault team on the street continued to advance slowly. As they attempted to turn the corner of a building, suddenly flashes of fire erupted from behind a damaged window across the street. Dark red bullets flew past, instantly raising a small cloud of debris at the corner.

Swish, swish!

The MG-34 cheerfully emitted the "ripping cloth" sound as a series of bullets swept horizontally from the left side of the window, disappearing into the room. Encouraged by this familiar sound, the tall leader of the assault team swiftly maneuvered around the corner with extremely agile movements. Next to him was a closed door; without firing a shot, he rammed it with his broad shoulder, crashing into the room along with the door!

The paratrooper with the rifle followed closely, his movements equally swift. But the enemy's reaction was not slow either. Suddenly, from a window on the second floor diagonally across, a string of bullets was fired, the typewriter-like sound of clicks unusually clear. Due to inertia, the German rifleman was thrown sideways and crashed heavily to the ground, writhing helplessly.

Swish, swish, swish, swish, swish!

The MG-34 on the rooftop immediately retaliated with a long burst. At a distance of less than 200 meters, a large number of bullets stirred up debris around the window, but at that moment, from a higher position within sight, a fierce and sustained burst of bullets erupted, accompanied by the long-lost sound of a Bren light machine gun. With a height difference of less than 2 meters, the British sweeping fire swept over the rooftop where the German machine gun team was stationed, hitting two unfortunate frogs on the spot. Immediately after, the British machine gun turned towards the street again. The first "Iron Fist" of the assault team had entered the room, and the submachine gunner behind him was running. Seeing this man's life in jeopardy, in the blink of an eye, a crisp gunshot rang out from the rooftop of another building, and the bullet struck the Bren light machine gun on the attic where the "Iron Fist" was.

The explosion subsided, and explosions continued to erupt from the houses where the German assault team had entered, billowing smoke pouring out of the street-facing doors and windows. But it didn't sound like the sound of soldiers from both sides fighting. As the gray-white smoke continued to spread northward, people finally realized that the German soldiers were using grenades and other explosives to blast through the walls between the entire row of houses. Finally, two rockets were fired from the windows on the northernmost side of these houses, one flying towards the British gun emplacement under the outer wall of the shipyard, instantly turning the small-caliber anti-tank gun there into scrap metal, and one directly hitting the wall, opening a huge gap in the wall over two meters high with barbed wire on top!

As the explosions subsided, several grenades flew out of those windows again, landing directly on the stone-strewn street, emitting a hissing sound as they sprayed out large amounts of white smoke. Taking advantage of the smoke grenades affecting the British line of sight, a large group of German soldiers quickly advanced northward, following the footsteps of the "Pathfinders," and careful observation revealed that they were also organized into several assault teams.

The brave German paratroopers launched their third assault on the south wall of the Campbell-Lead Shipyard, and the intense gunfire quickly pushed the battle to a new climax. Behind a two-story building protruding from the rooftop, Lieutenant Oliver Skaub sat against the wall, taking out a row of pointed bullets from his bullet pouch and quickly loading them into the internal magazine of his Mauser rifle. Even today, he still remembered what his predecessor had said to him: urban combat is a sniper's paradise. In Cardiff, he had tried his hand, but unfortunately, the British militia there did not have the tenacity or combat capability, and fighting them was more like a one-sided slaughter. Arriving in Birkenhead, he finally found his own paradise!

Loading the bullets, he closed the bolt with a clatter. It would be extremely foolish to stick his head directly out of the same window. Little Skaub cautiously extended a rectangular mirror with long forceps from the window, and the battle on the street was still fierce, with German paratroopers still advancing cautiously. People were being hit by bullets coming from the front or the side, but others continued to move forward. A young "Iron Fist" shooter rashly crouched by the roadside to fire a rocket, but as soon as the rocket flew out, he was also knocked down by bullets coming from an angle.

With the fastest speed, Skaub quickly stuffed the forceps and mirror into his pocket, got up swiftly, aimed his gun. Although he didn't see any enemy shooters through the telescopic sight, relying on his intuitive sense of where the bullets were coming from, he kept a close eye on a window. When a faint flash suddenly flickered, he decisively pulled the trigger, then recoiled like a shrimp, ejected the cartridge, loaded another one, waited for about five seconds, then suddenly raised his head, aimed, and fired again.

Just then, there was a whooshing sound in his ear, and before his nerves could react, a bullet flew past his helmet—.

Instantly, a chill ran down his spine.

A good sniper position was hard to come by, but clearly, one's life was more important. Skaub immediately pressed against the window and moved away, without even taking a moment to catch his breath, he descended the stairs in a state of shocked disbelief.

In the streets, over two hundred German paratroopers staged a spectacular urban assault, making full use of various individual and squad weapons, and as the first batch of soldiers reached the outer wall, Captain Scherme decisively deployed his last four tanks. The steel treads clattered over the cement street, boosting the morale of the German soldiers. Two Sdkfz251 half-track armored vehicles also quickly appeared at the street corner, although the 80mm heavy mortar was not suitable for carrying on the shoulder, it had a long range, great power, and a special arc trajectory, making it quite effective in field and positional combat.

Seeing that the German paratroopers had already rushed into the shipyard, a squadron of "Stags" appeared extremely untimely in the airspace above the port. They completely ignored the machine gun firepower of the German paratroopers and swooped down at an altitude of less than a hundred meters, dropping 500-pound bombs on the German tanks and armored vehicles appearing on the street, and strafing with the two small-caliber machine guns on board—even though the exemplary paratroopers shot down one of them, setting a milestone for their anti-aircraft combat, their attack still disrupted the pace. With a continuous stream of British militia under the leadership of dozens of regular soldiers launching a counterattack, the German paratroopers who had already set foot in the shipyard were driven out again.

For Captain Scherme, there was more than one headache: a No. 4 tank was crushed by a bomb-collapsed house, a No. 3 tank was directly destroyed, casualties among the assaulting paratroopers surged, and the remaining combat effectiveness had dropped to a dangerous level. Moreover, the shipyard faced the main dock area of Liverpool, and during the intervals of the German air force bombings, the British used small boats to urgently dispatch a company of regular soldiers, and two small gunboats equipped with 2-pound anti-aircraft guns also rushed to the scene.

Faced with the counterattack forces deployed by the British, Captain Scherme and his paratroopers had no choice but to temporarily abandon the attack. At this point, they could still withdraw to Blayzedon Park and use the anti-aircraft guns left by the British for defense, but the captain decisively ordered each platoon to organize defense using the street buildings on the spot, awaiting reinforcements.

If urban combat was a sniper's paradise, then defensive combat in urban combat was the cradle where snipers enjoyed themselves in paradise. Finding another inconspicuous window for ventilation, the thick walls made Skaub feel quite secure. There was plenty of food around, but he dared not eat casually. After nibbling on a few biscuits, the street became noisy again.

This time, the British led the attack, and the Germans defended.

Blowing the whistle, followed by the red collar patch, and then the use of submachine guns—unconsciously, bullet casings were everywhere on the ground. Then, the British's attack was pushed back by the fierce firepower of the German paratroopers—but after this consumption, even the sniper, who was very conservative with his bullets, faced an ammunition crisis, let alone the ordinary German paratroopers!

While the Germans were hesitating between retreat and holding their ground, the two platoons of paratroopers belonging to the 7th Airborne Division of the German Air Force arrived just in time. With the arrival of these fresh forces, the German airborne troops finally broke through the shipyard in one go, and amidst the intermittent explosions, the British began to destroy every ship that was still combat-ready on the shipyard...