Chapter 136: Enlightenment

Gunfire ceased, and Linen counted to seven in his mind. Throughout the entire shooting process, he maintained a steady posture with his left and right feet slightly apart, allowing bullets fired by Soviet soldiers to whiz past him. This aura of self-confidence, of "me or no one else," was not something everyone could achieve on the battlefield.

The Soviet soldiers who rushed up to the second floor, intending to wipe out the German command post, met their demise there. Even the German soldiers who came up with Linen didn't get a chance to fire their weapons!

"Get down!"

Linen shouted in German, and the bright figures still standing in his infrared scope immediately reacted—indeed, when he began firing, about four or five people had spontaneously crouched down, some even instinctively covering their heads.

The gunfire downstairs continued unabated as Linen swiftly crossed the second-floor hall. Along the way, he paid no heed to hard objects like pistols underfoot. Approaching the other side of the staircase, he crouched down, shouting down to the first floor:

"Jonas, we've taken control upstairs!"

Bullets immediately shot up from below, hitting the second-floor ceiling with a pitter-patter. Almost simultaneously, a voice shouted hoarsely, "Commander, Jonas is hit and injured!"

"Fall back! Get away from the stairs!" Linen shouted, then turned to Wolfroom, who had followed him, and said, "Grenade!"

Without hesitation, Wolfroom pulled a grenade from his belt and skillfully and swiftly threw it down the stairs like a seasoned veteran.

Boom!

The deafening explosion continued to reverberate through the floorboards, and a strong gust of wind, carrying smoke and dust, rushed up from the stairwell.

Linen lifted his assault rifle, took a step forward to the stairwell, shouting "Attack" in German, but deliberately slowed his descent down the stairs. It wasn't until the figures in his scope flashed past the stairwell below and rushed into the room on the other side that he followed them down the stairs.

"Jonas! Jonas!"

Looking around the hall that had just ended in battle, strewn with several bodies lying haphazardly, there was no response to Linen's calls.

Hearing gunfire from a nearby room, Linen raised his rifle and followed suit. It was originally the corner room of the building, with a sandbagged position at the front window and two machine gunners lying diagonally. The side wall had been blown out, creating a hole larger than a normal door—perhaps the reason for the muffled noise Linen had heard earlier.

The remaining Soviet troops had already been driven out of the room, and two soldiers belonging to the 11th Night Combat Detachment were leaning against the hole, shooting outside. One of them carried a battery pack for infrared night vision goggles on his back, and it seemed he was Flynn, from the same group as Jonas. This guy seemed unscathed.

Linen moved to the window and looked outside. Several bodies lay on the street not far away, with dark red dots chasing the last moving shadow in his line of sight, which swayed and finally fell.

The gunfire was completely silenced as a result.

"Hey, Alfred!" Linen called out.

The man beside the hole leaned against the wall, facing Linen, his voice somewhat low: "Hey, Commander, it's over!"

"How's the situation?" Linen asked, glancing at the other side of the window to ensure no Soviet soldiers were escaping in the opposite direction.

"6 dead and wounded!"

Although somewhat expected, hearing Flynn report this number still weighed heavily on Linen's heart. These were soldiers assigned to his command, living warriors.

Using the harsh battlefield survival law as a reason to calm his emotions, Linen barely passed this test of his own, patting Flynn on the shoulder and then turning back to the hall. There, he saw a soldier giving first aid to the man lying on the ground. At this moment, two officers who didn't carry weapons, probably originally from the command post, came down the stairs.

"Who's in charge here?" The tone of the voice was gentle, not like someone about to reprimand severely. Linen turned and replied, "I am!"

"You saved the fate of our command post at a critical moment!" The voice continued calmly, "But... you almost killed us just now!"

Although he didn't know the rank of the other party, he was at least an officer. Linen stood up straight, replied without humility, "I was the only one firing upstairs just now. If anyone was injured, I should bear the responsibility alone!"

The officer had walked up to Linen and looked down at the wounded waiting for treatment. He had a worn face, with a lip beard, wearing the rank insignia of an Air Force Major General, and his eyes were dull.

"You alone?"

"Yes!" Linen immediately identified himself, "I am Linen Galgo, a Senior Sergeant of the 11th Night Combat Detachment!"

"Linen Galgo?" The Air Force Major General turned to the officer behind him and said, "Isn't this the Imperial combat hero who's been blowing his own horn to the sky?!"

"Oh, yeah!" The officer behind him quickly replied, "Yes, it's the story in today's Berlin Daily, just like a plot from a knight novel, incredibly exciting!"

This statement might have been intended to correct someone else's erroneous judgment, but to Linen, it felt like a stab in the heart. He retorted unkindly, "Perhaps that horn can now add: single-handedly took down 7 Soviet soldiers and saved a dozen Air Force officers with his comrades!"

The two Air Force officers were suddenly speechless.

Linen straightened his chest, turned to the soldiers, and said, "Gentlemen, take the wounded and let's go!"

"Commander!" The soldier squatting beside his companion reported, "Jonas is still unconscious!"

Ignoring the two Air Force officers, Linen walked quickly to him and squatted down next to him. The man lying there was covered in blood, with his military uniform soaked in blood over a large area, looking barely alive.

"Gantt! Gantt!" Linen gently called Jonas's name, setting aside personal desires, this was a brave combat partner.

The man lying down still showed no response, and the remaining soldiers of the detachment, including Flynn, Bruck, and others, gradually gathered in the hall.

They stood at a distance or approached, the atmosphere heavy and sorrowful.

Linen stood up, silently took off his steel helmet, and said in a low voice, "Gantt Jonas, a righteous and fearless Waffen-SS soldier, our close comrade, let us send our sincerest blessings to him!"

This wasn't a eulogy, but it was even more sorrowful than one.

"Commander!"

Another soldier, whose name Linen still couldn't recall, stood at the door of the hall. "Matt and Ticus are dead, Sol is severely injured, and there's..."

Before the man could finish, Linen announced loudly and deliberately: "The dead will be buried on-site, and the wounded will be taken away regardless of severity. We will not leave a comrade behind!"

This resounding declaration echoed clearly in the vast and silent building.

Even the Air Force Major General and his officers silently took off their military caps.

Burying the dead on the spot might be easier, but it would be more troublesome to take away two seriously wounded and two lightly wounded. Linen's words were followed by action, ordering the soldiers to find stretchers or makeshift stretchers made of sticks and cloth, but it was still difficult to find suitable items in the Berlin urban area at the moment. Fortunately, about fifteen minutes later, a squad of armed soldiers hurried over, each wearing the Air Force eagle badge on their uniforms. Soon after, the sound of caterpillar tracks came from around the corner, and two tanks led three armored vehicles to stop at the side and rear of the building.

After a severe reprimand about lax defense and lowered vigilance, the Air Force Major General said to the officers who came to take orders with him, "If it weren't for Sergeant Galgo and his soldiers fighting bravely, we would have been captured by the Soviets now!"

Finally, he walked up to Linen, looked down at the wounded waiting for treatment, and said, "As a token of gratitude, let us transfer them to the field hospital!"

This was exactly what Linen intended.

"We will treat the deceased with the courtesy of an officer!" the Major General added.

"Well, Commander, we entrust these brothers to you!" Linen saluted, "We still have a mission to accomplish, so take care!"

The Major General solemnly returned the salute and took the initiative to shake hands with Linen.

Leaving the dilapidated building, Linen looked back at the bustling and sleepless urban area. The flashes of artillery in the distance continued, and the rumbling sounds were still as reminiscent of the Eastern Spring Festival. However, the flames of war were much more terrifying than fireworks, and he could fully imagine what the outer defense line of Berlin must look like. Under the successive bombardment of the Soviets, the German soldiers defending the line were enduring a hellish torment, perhaps long gone was their desire for victory, but they persisted through their dedication to their profession and the beliefs they were loyal to, holding on with difficulty.

A small squad of helmeted soldiers passed by, each holding rifles or submachine guns, their faces wearing solemn expressions.

Watching these soldiers, Linen suddenly realized that this area was still under effective control of the Germans. In that case, those Soviet soldiers who had penetrated here earlier were just a raiding party, taking advantage of the night to infiltrate beyond the German outer defense line and target this unit as a command post. If it weren't for him accidentally leading the team up, they might have succeeded—although he wasn't quite sure about the scale, equipment, and actual combat effectiveness of the 9th Paratrooper Division, it was still a division-level combat unit, and there was even a general-level figure in the command post. If they had fallen into enemy hands and been taken back to the Soviet-controlled area, it would undoubtedly have caused a man-made disaster for this unit and the defensive line they had built!

If it were someone else, perhaps they would feel proud of their achievements, thinking about whether there would be corresponding rewards next. But Linen didn't think so. He immediately thought, if Soviet soldiers could penetrate here and attack their command post, why couldn't he infiltrate out and give the Soviets a taste of their own medicine? If he could destroy the enemy's regimental headquarters, it might paralyze the regiment in a short time; if he could find and attack the enemy's divisional or even corps headquarters, what impact would the captured personnel and materials have on the entire battle situation?

Thinking of these, Linen felt like a hungry wolf smelling food, with an instinctive urge, but he quickly calmed down and thought carefully. Pure military adventures no longer made much sense. Even if they captured important Soviet leaders, the history written by the victors would probably not credit him for it. But if he combined his actions with his own plans, that would be a different story!