Chapter 117: Lucky Rearview Mirror

Accompanied by a creaking sound, the BM-13 rocket launcher, with bullet holes on its engine hood and white smoke billowing from its vents, finally came to a stop in front of the German trench. Several German soldiers wearing large-eared helmets and carrying rifles approached to provide assistance. Lynn pushed open the car door and shouted angrily:

"Those guys who fired, are they using their toes to think? Since when do the Russians use this kind of truck for a frontal assault? It's unbelievably stupid!"

At this moment, the Soviet artillery barrage had not yet ended but extended along the front line towards the city area. Without it, even if he were a Formula One driver, Lynn wouldn't have been able to drive the "Katyusha" here.

Seeing that the five people getting off the car were all dressed in armed SS uniforms, the German soldiers who came to assist probably received instructions in advance and did not inquire much. Instead, they carefully escorted them across the trench and barbed wire zone.

Once they entered the trench, a middle-aged, tall, broad-faced Wehrmacht captain approached: "Not bad, lads. It's lucky that the Russians cleared the minefield for you in advance, otherwise, given your route, you would have been blown to the sky long ago!"

The teasing words didn't sound malicious, so Lynn put away his previous anger at being mistakenly fired upon by his own side. Soldiers on the battlefield are often highly tense, especially tonight with no natural light, seeing a shadow and hearing the roar of an engine, mistaking it for Soviet tanks was understandable. Moreover, it was the behavior of a small number of soldiers, quickly corrected. If there had been an order to fire from the officer, just two machine guns would have been enough to wipe out Lynn and his men.

Although Lynn and the others were dressed in SS and Wehrmacht uniforms, coming from the occupied area, they naturally had to declare themselves:

"I am Staff Sergeant Lynn Gaul, commander of the 167th Combat Group of the 4th Night Raid Battle Group, leading our soldiers on a infiltration mission. We killed six Soviet soldiers in the battle and captured a Soviet rocket launcher. No casualties on our side!"

"Oh, the night raid team!" The captain seemed to have heard of these elite night combat units, but at least in Orlaningburg, these so-called elite night combat units had not yet had any formal combat records—if Lynn and the other two squad commanders had not volunteered, their time on the battlefield would have been delayed.

Although Lynn's German was still not very fluent, even a bit clumsy, the Wehrmacht captain did not ask to see their papers. He just glanced at the four soldiers behind Lynn, paying special attention to the infrared night vision equipment carried by Tanze, nodded, "You are true heroes!"

"Honored to receive your praise!"

After saying this, Lynn took off his helmet to let his head breathe and glanced around. The artillery barrage had just ended, smoke still lingered on the battlefield, and craters of various sizes seemed to emit heat. Although the scene was devastated, Lynn did not see any soldier's remains, indicating that when the Soviet artillery was firing, most of the defending soldiers had withdrawn to safe defensive positions.

The captain turned his head to look at the Soviet rocket launcher parked outside the trench and asked, "That 'Katyusha'—that's what the Soviets seem to call it—does it still have rockets on it?"

"No!" Lynn answered proudly, "The wheels got stuck in a shell crater on the way, so we had to stop and find something to pad under the wheels. By the way, we turned the rocket launcher towards the Soviet artillery position and fired a few shots!"

"Oh?" The captain's eyes lit up. "No wonder the Soviet artillery only fired two rounds today. It seems to be your credit!"

Could they hit the Soviet artillery position without aiming? Lynn thought it was his own luck, but on second thought, even if those rockets fell nearby, the Soviet commander might have felt threatened and temporarily ordered a retreat, delaying the planned artillery bombardment. It seemed that his combat group had really made a great contribution this time.

Seeing that Lynn was just silently looking in the direction of the Soviet positions, the captain took out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, knocked it, and offered one to Lynn, but did not offer any to the others sitting aside resting.

After lighting the cigarette and taking a puff, the captain sighed, "Unfortunately, we can't bring it in, otherwise, finding some rockets, it could also play a role in battle! In the past two days, the Soviet attacks have been fiercer and fiercer, and our casualties..."

"You guys are the real heroes!" Lynn repeated the praise.

The captain shook his head helplessly, took a few more puffs of the cigarette, then turned to look at the city area still being ravaged by Soviet artillery fire, "Sergeant Gaul, it's not very safe to return to the rear now. I'll have someone take you to a prepared position behind the lines. What do you think?"

Other than "good," what else could Lynn say?

Then the captain added, "I will report your achievements truthfully to the superiors!"

For operational needs and to maximize combat effectiveness, the German High Command usually placed Wehrmacht and SS units in the same operational area under the jurisdiction of one command. The various German combat units around Orlaningburg were currently under the command of the 9th Army, a component of the "Wisla" Army Group of the Wehrmacht.

As a mere reserve sergeant, Lynn could only silently accept whether this captain could "report truthfully" to his superiors. If the other party really wanted to help, the effect of his report would obviously be more convincing than his own report. So, Lynn thanked him solemnly and was about to ask the soldiers to leave when he suddenly remembered something and said to the captain, "Could you do me another small favor?"

Since it was a "small favor," the captain readily agreed.

"Please help me find a screwdriver. I want to remove the left rearview mirror of that 'Katyusha' as a keepsake!"

The reason Lynn wanted that rearview mirror as a memento was just an excuse—along the way, he had avoided T-34 shelling, witnessed rockets being launched and exploding in the distance, and evaded retaliatory shelling from the rear artillery of the Soviet positions. In the end, he safely returned to his own controlled area. Lynn felt that it was a lucky charm. Moreover, the mirror he had used before was too small. While its concealment was good, it was difficult to observe from a wide angle or in all directions.

The captain thought for a moment and felt that keeping a memento was reasonable, so he instructed a subordinate, "Hey, Dach, go help me remove the left rearview mirror of that Soviet car and bring it here. Remember, it's the left one!"

"Yes, sir!"

Lynn turned his head and saw a agile, short soldier had already quickly climbed out of the trench. Feeling uneasy about letting someone else take risks for his own private matters, he said, "Captain, this..."

But the captain didn't explain, just smoked and looked towards the Soviet positions. When the cigarette was finished, the soldier wearing a helmet returned.

Taking the rearview mirror from the short soldier's hand, the captain thanked him and took a few curious glances at it, then handed it to Lynn.

When it was installed on the car, Lynn didn't feel its weight, but holding it in his hand, he found it to be quite heavy. Lynn regretted making this request. But since it had come to this, he could only put it in his backpack and then asked, "Mr. Captain, may I know your name?"

The captain tightened his collar and replied very seriously, "Fritz Lang, Commander of 1st Company, 2nd Battalion, 92nd Infantry Regiment of the 32nd Infantry Division!"

Lynn politely said, "Thank you for your gift, Captain Lang! I wish you and your troops good luck always!"

If it had been in the early stages of the war, saying such words to a German commander would have been somewhat ironic. But by 1945, it seemed that only good luck could help a German unit avoid being surrounded and annihilated by the enemy.

The captain nodded and called his adjutant to take Lynn and his group to a prepared position behind the lines. There were trenches, bunkers, heavy mortars, infantry guns, and some tanks and assault guns covered with camouflage nets. It was busy everywhere, of course, there were also many wounded soldiers being carried to field hospitals further back. Amidst all this, smelling the mixed smells, Lynn felt as if he had returned to the days when he first arrived in this era—fear, frustration, confusion, all these emotions were not completely eliminated, but suppressed by another strong emotion, that is, survival.

As midnight approached, the long and enduring Soviet artillery barrage finally ended. Although a single gun could not continuously fire for several hours, as long as various artillery groups took turns firing, they could continuously suppress the enemy for a long time. This was like the pressing style of play on a football field—people were prone to making mistakes under long periods of high tension, just like defenders, the defending soldiers also had to follow this rule.

Captain Lang's adjutant tried his best to find a few seats for Lynn and his men on a truck transporting wounded soldiers. He had originally wanted to stay and assist the defending soldiers in battle, but seeing that Wollrum and Graf were all very tired, and considering that the two young privates had just made a breakthrough in their mental state, he accepted the other party's kindness. On the way back to the city area, hearing the intense gunfire from the front, Lynn couldn't help but feel heavy-hearted. He hoped that Captain Lang and his troops were as lucky as he wished.