Chapter 101: First Battle, Striking the Strong with the Weak

An artificial water channel used for irrigating farmland had provided convenience to agriculture for years. During wartime, it could also serve as cover for the movement of friendly forces or even as a defensive position. If rewards were to be given, the engineer who originally designed this water channel deserved a medal of merit.

As usual, the night raiding party did not carry cumbersome anti-tank equipment, but they had plenty of detonators and high-explosive dynamite. Germany lacked rare metals and gasoline, but, relatively speaking, what they didn't lack were chemicals like explosives. Considering the need for ambush tactics, Lynn volunteered to lead a small team of soldiers to lay explosives along the roadside.

Of course, an ambush wasn't just about planting bombs and lying in wait. If you were too close, you risked being detected prematurely in the moonlight; if you were too far, it was difficult to control the explosives effectively and in a timely manner. Lynn had put considerable thought into this distance. He divided his small team into two groups, taking his trusted companions Brück and Flens to the west end to lead the attack, with the signal for the assault to be given from there. Meanwhile, three more experienced soldiers were stationed about a kilometer away at the east end to provide maximum disruption to the enemy.

This time, the Soviets didn't keep Lynn and his team waiting for too long. Less than half an hour after the passage of the preceding combat unit, the rumble of vehicles could be heard on the road once again. Peering through his binoculars in the moonlight, Lynn spotted the second "black serpent," stretching much farther than the initially estimated one kilometer. Realizing that changing positions would not only risk exposure but also make it difficult to find a suitably concealed and protected location in such a short time, Lynn swiftly changed tactics from "leading the assault" to "striking the belly," communicating his decision to his two companions.

It was evident that Flens and Brück were both nervous, and Lynn himself was feeling extremely anxious. Seizing the opportunity while the enemy was still distant, he joked, "Guys, with this ambush, we'll bag more than a whole regiment in a day's fight! Get ready for the Iron Cross medals!"

Considering their military service since joining the German forces, which had been at least half a year, none of them had received any decorations on their chests, not even a wound badge (which was probably for the best). Survival was paramount, but the desire for honor was deeply ingrained in their blood and bones. Though Lynn's words weren't particularly amusing, the three of them managed to crack smiles, adjusting their mindsets slightly in preparation for the impending battle.

As the rumble grew louder, the Soviet column finally approached their section of the road. Given that the area consisted mostly of expansive farmland with sporadic buildings, it was quite open, making it difficult for tanks, let alone artillery pieces, to conceal themselves. Consequently, although the Soviets sent ahead a few jeeps and motorcycles for reconnaissance, they didn't thoroughly inspect the fields along the way. Even more fatally, they cleverly turned off their headlights, forgetting that the bright moonlight had already illuminated their movements for all to see.

"Lie still, don't move!" Lynn whispered to his comrades, pressing his head and body against the ground. Now the effectiveness of their gray pea camouflage became apparent. The Soviet advance party passed by at about forty yards per minute, oblivious to the three dangerous "stones" lying in wait.

As the lead group of T-34s rumbled past, Lynn could feel the ground trembling beneath him. Would even the earth itself fear these ferocious steel beasts?

Finally, the last T-34 rolled by, followed by truck after truck—Dodges, Chevrolets, and Gaz trucks produced by the Soviets—hauling all sizes of howitzers and guns. Modern equipment had replaced the horse-drawn cannons of yesteryear, greatly increasing efficiency but also exponentially increasing the pressure on the opposing German forces.

Enough!

With a shout in his heart, Lynn glared ahead. As he counted to the tenth truck, he grunted, "Pull."

His two companions lying beside him immediately began pulling on the ropes in their hands.

To ensure the explosives detonated in time, they had attached both a firing fuse and a hand grenade to the other end of the rope. As long as one of them ignited successfully, the high-explosive dynamite stacked by the roadside would give the Soviets a taste of the devastating power of a "roadside bomb" ahead of schedule!

Boom! Boom!

The sheer force of the explosions swept through like a thunderstorm, turning the ground into a trampoline. Even lying in a depression more than twenty meters away from the road, Lynn felt himself being slightly lifted off the ground. His ears were instantly deafened, and his internal organs felt as if they had been shattered, causing intense agony. With three successive explosions, he felt as if he were teetering on the brink of death three times over, yet regained consciousness in the blink of an eye.

As the intense explosions subsided, the air was filled with the fierce sound of gunfire. Shortly after, three equally massive explosions erupted from the rear of the Soviet convoy—though to Lynn, it was all an indistinguishable cacophony. It took him quite some time before he lifted his head, covered in a layer of dirt from his helmet. The immense power of the explosives had flipped over four or five trucks nearby, while his comrades unleashed a relentless barrage of bullets from the irrigation ditch, wreaking havoc on the surrounding Soviet trucks. Many Soviet soldiers were knocked down in the chaotic process of disembarking, as the sides of the trucks offered little protection against rifle bullets.

Despite his already perilous situation, Lynn continued to scan the battlefield with his keen eyes. The Soviet tanks at the front of the column had come to a halt. Once they joined the fray, the German night raiding party, armed only with light weapons, would likely be overwhelmed.

Seizing the opportunity while the Soviet soldiers were still preoccupied, Lynn quickly reached out to drag Brück and Flens. "Retreat! Retreat!"

The two soldiers, clearly dazed by the powerful explosions, clumsily got up and ran towards the rear. Their scrambling, rolling movements hardly resembled the heroic actions of brave ambushers.

In terms of courage, Lynn was not exceptional. But partly driven by the need to lay the groundwork for long-term goals and partly spurred on by an inner impulse, he pushed on from behind, retreating while aiming his rifle. Firing at this moment would be suicidal, so in essence, this was a risky "performance."