Chapter 118 Life's Nadir

The sound of gunfire never ceased throughout the night. Lynn lay fully clothed in the damp and chilly air raid shelter, but dawn arrived without any orders for battle.

It wasn't that they didn't want to fight, but there was no fighting to be done. The outer defense forces, mainly composed of the National Defense Army, once again withstood the fierce attacks of the Soviet army, postponing the plan for urban combat relying on the Orlaningburg city area.

Holding their positions wasn't a bad thing, but after a night of bloodshed, what the soldiers faced was a sky filled with Allied bombers!

The clouds remained thick, though not as low-hanging as they had been in previous days. The Allied aircraft flying in from the west seemed as numerous and devastating as locusts from ancient times. Standing at the entrance of the air raid shelter, Lynn witnessed two jet fighters bravely challenging the swarms of "wild horses."

They weren't charging windmills like Don Quixote with his spear, but they met a similarly tragic fate.

The optimistic mood that had arisen from their outstanding performance last night vanished into thin air.

Perhaps from high above, the city of Orlaningburg already resembled a heap of rubble, or maybe considering the nearby Soviet combat units, the Allied bombers only left their shadows here. But the dense explosions coming from the direction of Berlin lasted for half an hour.

Every soldier around Lynn looked ashen-faced.

After the air raid alert ended, Lynn went to the command post to report last night's combat situation to Captain Kalager. As he expected, the relatively young commander's reaction was very cold, informing Lynn that both night combat groups that went out last night returned without success and suffered casualties.

Even without saying it explicitly, Lynn knew what the other party meant.

In this situation, arguing was meaningless.

Then, Lynn received the day's food ration from the quartermaster: 75 grams of bread per person, no hot soup, no butter, let alone coffee, cigarettes, or smoked meat.

The situation deteriorating was not the worst. When Lynn heard his comrades whispering that Berlin might be surrounded by the Soviets, his mind finally became chaotic.

As a peripheral defense point only twenty kilometers away from Berlin, Orlaningburg's fate was tightly tied to Berlin's. Being surrounded meant being trapped in the Berlin area. The only two risky ways to avoid becoming prisoners of war when the war ended were to break out or to disguise oneself.

Therefore, retreating to the south before the Soviets surrounded Berlin was the most likely to succeed.

Back in the air raid shelter, Lynn told the four subordinates what he had heard.

Wollrum remained the most composed, as if he had expected this outcome early on. Graf was only disheartened, showing no signs of excess. Tanzel seemed to have matured through last night's battle, his reaction unusually strong. Tichimel still harbored fear, as if being surrounded meant certain death.

If given a choice, Lynn would only take Wollrum with him, but he might not be willing to bear the stigma of desertion by following such a fanciful acting sergeant.

What troubled Lynn even more were not just these issues, but also transportation, passes, routes, and funds; he lacked all the necessary conditions now.

Escaping the front lines was also a major undertaking!

Although the Allied planes from the west did not bomb Orlaningburg, the Soviet Air Force did not rest. Throughout most of the day, their fighters, bombers, and dive bombers ravaged the German defense lines, frequently flying over Orlaningburg to drop bombs. From noon onwards, the Soviet artillery once again began pounding the German outer defense lines, but they did not launch a ground assault afterwards—this surprised Lynn. If the enemy's movements were always predictable, then countermeasures could be found, but if the enemy suddenly changed tactics, one had to be extra careful.

After dark, the command post of the combat group sent a signalman to notify each combat team to collect anti-tank weapons. To block the Soviet offensive in urban combat, Lynn believed that each combat group should be equipped with at least one "tank killer" and sufficient ammunition. However, what he received in his hands were ten anti-tank grenades.

Although disappointed, seeing that his comrades received the same weapons, Lynn had nothing to say considering the current situation of the Empire.

Throughout this night, every one or two hours, the Soviets would launch a barrage, which did not last long, and they never launched an attack. As a result, Lynn woke up four or five times during the night, and every time he thought of a retreat, his head buzzed. As dawn approached, he fell into a drowsy sleep again. In his dream, he became an ancient warrior, trapped in a white fog with only dozens of companions. Suddenly, the sound of drums came from afar, making him extremely nervous, but he found himself holding a broken sword, and a knight clad in black from head to toe with eyes glowing red suddenly appeared before him, his eyes shining like those of a demon, and the battle axe raised high made him unable to escape...

"Captain! Captain?"

Lynn was suddenly awakened by Private Tanzel's shout from his dream. Before he could speak, he suddenly felt the ground beneath his palm trembling slightly, and the sound of drums was not entirely illusory.

"The Soviets are attacking!" Tanzel frowned, his face full of anxiety.

Lynn immediately realized that this was the Soviet artillery shelling their positions!

"This Soviet attack is very sudden. The reserve forces of the National Defense Army have all gone to the front line!" Wollrum, sitting by the stairs at the entrance of the air raid shelter, stated the fact without expressing his opinion.

Lynn's consciousness cleared up slightly, and he followed suit, saying, "Yes, this attack is very sudden!"

In a mood devoid of grooming, Lynn shifted to the corner against the wall and sat there. After about a quarter of an hour, Wollrum asked, "Captain, shall I go collect today's rations for you?"

Although hungry, Lynn had no appetite. He didn't move his head, replying in a low voice, "Go ahead! Be careful on the way!"

Wollrum left, and after a while, Private Karl Tichimel, who was sitting not far away, spoke up, "Captain, what's wrong with you today? You seem very down!"

The most fragile person turned to care for himself, Lynn forced himself to cheer up, patting his face with both hands, and turned his head to speak to the big boy in a more normal tone, "Uh, I just woke up and haven't fully recovered. If I don't sleep well at night, I'll feel like this. It's nothing!"

With that, he lifted the blanket and stood up, stretching his limbs while challenging Tichimel, "Come on, let's practice bayonet fighting!"

Tichimel's smile remained shy, but this time, he didn't evade, but stood up with his rifle.

"Very good, very brave, very excellent!"

Lynn praised him with three consecutive words, then borrowed a Mauser 98k from another soldier in the group and began to spar with Tichimel without fitting a bayonet—having received some hand-to-hand combat training in the assault team and consciously strengthened his practice afterwards, Lynn's bayonet skills were not excellent, but they were considered passable in the German army. Dealing with a big boy like Tichimel was more than enough, but he deliberately slowed down his movements and restrained himself everywhere, sparring for more than a dozen rounds like this, feeling warmed up enough, he needed to conserve energy to save rations, so he used a quick, accurate, and ruthless diagonal thrust to show his true strength.

Breathing heavily, Tichimel looked at Lynn and praised, "Captain... you're good at shooting, fighting, driving, you're amazing!"

Lynn took a step forward, lightly tapping the soldier's arm with his fist, and said friendly, "Before joining the army, my physique was similar to yours! There are no other tricks, just diligent practice!"

Obviously, he didn't hope to remain a weak child forever. Tichimel nodded, "I'll work hard!"

"Confidence is good!" Lynn affirmed, then exchanged the Mauser rifle with its owner, a middle-aged soldier with a stubble and a rugged appearance. At this moment, although the sound of gunfire from the front line was not very loud, it could still be clearly distinguished. Lynn wondered if Wollrum had been gone for quite some time, perhaps the logistical supply was interrupted, and there was no food to be collected today?

After waiting for a while, Wollrum hurriedly walked in from outside, carrying a bag in his hand, but what he said had nothing to do with the rations: "Captain, quickly, someone from above is here! We... we're all going!"

"From above? Who's above?" Lynn was puzzled.

Wollrum sighed and said, "It's someone sent by the Night Combat Troop Headquarters of the Waffen-SS. They want all of us in the team to go to headquarters, saying they want to commend us!"

The Night Combat Troop Headquarters of the Waffen-SS was also known as the headquarters of the "Vampire" Assault Team, which changed its name after expanding to 200 night combat groups. As far as Lynn knew, Laurentz Bach was still the commander-in-chief.

Hearing Wollrum's words, Lynn speculated that the report submitted by Captain Lang they encountered on the battlefield might have been honest. The "Katyusha" rocket launcher they captured itself did not have much special value, but in today's war situation, it was like a glimmer of hope in the pitch-black night. From the Emperor to department heads, from soldiers to civilians, more or less, everyone had a psychological need for a lifesaver.

Although he didn't expect this to bring him much practical benefit, after pondering all night without any result, maybe this would be an opportunity to change his fate. Thinking about this, Lynn straightened his collar, said to his subordinates, "Brothers, pull yourselves together, let's go and accept the honor we deserve!"