Chapter 147: Urban Warfare

Crack! Crack! Crack!

The assault rifles fired rhythmically, sounding like an old-fashioned typewriter in the hands of a seasoned secretary. Lynn glanced sideways and spotted a "Big Ears Steel Helmet" lying about two meters to his right, his face covered in stubble. The man held an mp44 with a brownish-yellow stock, lifting it slightly and firing three or four shots in quick succession without directly aiming, then lowering it and retracting his hands, only to raise it again after a few seconds. This method of shooting reminded Lynn of the combat scenes he had seen in the local conflicts in Africa featured on a documentary program years ago. The precision of such shooting was evident, but those combatants were irregular militia after all... Bullets continued to rain down randomly on the rubble or whizz past overhead. Thinking quickly, Lynn reached into his bag and retrieved the "Lucky Rearview Mirror," slowly raising it while leaning to the side.

The battlefield in the mirror appeared more detailed and complete than his hurried glances before: the dilapidated building hardly had any intact walls, supported only by square cement pillars. Its footprint was about seven to eight hundred square meters. From the helmets and figures he could observe, Lynn estimated that there were forty to fifty German soldiers using this as their combat position—including the indistinguishable wounded and fallen.

Adjacent to this building was a relatively spacious street. Looking down the street, Lynn could vaguely see a breached barricade ahead, with many soldiers' corpses lying haphazardly, some with open turret covers of t-34 tanks. Some only mourned their gun barrels, while others emitted black smoke from their turrets. Further away, there seemed to be more tanks, but Lynn couldn't observe their situation clearly due to his low vantage point.

Probably deterred by the two heavy anti-tank guns on the German barricade, the Soviet tanks had temporarily halted their frontal assault from the street. Instead, groups of three or two, or seven or eight infantrymen, moved like cunning mice, advancing along the ruins on both sides of the street. Some even brought a Degtyaryov light machine gun to the side of a building that had collapsed halfway, using it to fiercely suppress the German position across the street. Knowing the adjustable firing angle and power of the flak88, Lynn knew the German gunners could easily take out this firepower point with one shot, but perhaps due to extremely limited ammunition and the inability of Soviet heavy machine guns to pose a direct threat to the gun position, they allowed it to continue.

In this situation, Lynn hoped that a friendly armored vehicle would suddenly appear to swiftly eliminate the Soviet firepower points threatening the German infantry. On his way from the air raid shelter to the position, he had seen a role that was perfect for this task: a burnt-out sdkfz222 armored car.

"Tanks! Ahead! Tanks!"

Suddenly hearing someone shouting loudly and monotonously, Lynn quickly turned the periscope and indeed found the silhouette of Soviet tanks several hundred meters away in front, maneuvering through the debris of collapsed buildings. Their camouflage was different from the olive-green color he had seen on the battlefield before, being a darker shade distinct from the German gray. As they moved between the charred rubble and the remnants of walls, they blended quite well with the surroundings. However, these guys using high-powered diesel engines always generated noticeable black smoke when moving, coupled with exceptionally loud engine roars, maintaining high concealment during the attack was simply wishful thinking.

With the appearance of these Soviet tanks, the number of Soviet infantrymen in khaki uniforms in front suddenly increased, with Lynn seeing over a hundred at a glance. Over the past few months, these seasoned Russian veterans had conquered several heavily defended cities in the Baltic coastal countries, Poland, Hungary, and eastern Germany, accumulating rich experience in urban combat. Those Russian soldiers carrying the Degtyaryov light machine gun or the DShK heavy machine gun quickly occupied the high points in the ruins, immediately beginning a sustained and intense suppression of the Germans on the ruined building side. Some Russian infantrymen cleverly advanced step by step, not rushing to launch a direct attack on the ruined building but, after getting close, crawling behind any obstacle that could withstand bullet penetration, waiting for their tanks to move forward along the gaps in the ruins.

The way and intent of the Soviet ground attack were easily discernible. The German soldiers defending the dilapidated building rose to the challenge, engaging in a firefight with the arriving Soviet infantrymen. The gunfire intensified immediately. Since he was on the frontline, Lynn couldn't keep hiding behind the rubble observing the battlefield surreptitiously. He quickly stowed away his lucky night vision goggles, intending to cause some trouble for the Soviet soldiers with his best skill—semi-automatic fire. However, he was surprised to see the stubble-faced soldier next to him killed by a direct shot to the face. It was a horrifying sight, and what worried Lynn even more was that it didn't seem like a stray bullet or one among a series of shots; it was likely the "handiwork" of a Soviet sniper!

In such a complex battle, Lynn couldn't pinpoint the threat in the rubble opposite, and there were probably more than one or two sharpshooters among the Soviet attacking forces. He glanced back, seeing the veteran Wolfram occasionally peeking out to shoot forward, but each time exposing himself for a short time. As for Bruck, Bruhl, and others, he didn't see them appearing rashly, whether they were loading ammunition or waiting for his clear orders. At this moment, he didn't see Noah either; his "tank killer" with the last remaining rocket was apparently being saved for a critical moment.

Just as Lynn hesitated, artillery shells came whistling from the front and exploded in the rubble less than ten meters away. Lynn immediately ducked and covered his head, but he could still hear someone screaming in pain. Moments later, helmets and gun components crashed heavily to the ground—a sight even more terrifying than what he had witnessed, even without seeing it directly.

Steeling his resolve, gritting his teeth, he grasped the assault rifle and rose to his feet. The magnified image in the infrared scope was still blurry, and Lynn couldn't find the calmness to search for targets calmly. He hastily pulled the trigger three times, then immediately stopped, leaning against the rubble heap, gasping for air. He couldn't help but feel astonished at his performance—how had he faltered like this?

His recent performance was far from his self-assessment as a "battlefield elite." Perhaps he was too eager to preserve himself and had fallen into the quagmire of fear, or perhaps he was lost because he hadn't fought in open daylight for so long?

On the battlefield, too many thoughts became distractions. Lynn took a few deep breaths, trying to calm his mind. In the process, several more shells came whistling down, and besides the screams, he could hear someone quietly shouting "demolition team." By the time Lynn regained his confidence and raised his rifle again, he saw several "Big Ears Steel Helmets" advancing along the ruins with their comrades' cover, and two t-34 tanks had already appeared in front of the building. This side they were on happened to avoid the attack of the two anti-tank guns on the German barricade. Once these ruined buildings were captured with the help of the advancing infantry, the German barricade line would be broken from the flank.

Apparently sensing the German soldiers' attempt to attack, the machine guns on the front of the two tanks sprayed out angry tongues of fire, and some Soviet soldiers lurking in the rear ruins again advanced forward with the cover of their tanks, the battle situation subtly favoring the Soviets. At this critical moment, the dispersed German soldiers advancing forward halted, and Lynn saw some of them carrying improved 150-model 44-millimeter "Iron Fist" anti-tank rocket launchers (distinguished from earlier models by their rounded conical warhead covers replacing the pointed ones) and some carrying the rpzb "tank killers" with circular shields. These two types of anti-tank rocket launchers had similar power but differed in effective range and reloading capability. Their effective combat range did not exceed 200 meters, meaning the shooter had to stand up within the range of submachine guns to fire at the target. In ambush warfare or highly concealed urban combat, it would be better, but this open area of ruins was far from ideal.