Canteen System Assistance Notes

That is, a disposable "turtle fist" launcher produced using a simplified process.

This reinforcement was so substantial that it was enough to transform the superficial regimental unit "Rurik Provisional Group" into a proper "Infantry Brigade"!

Could it be that Political Commissar Titalenko is the son of General Meretskov, commander of the Volkhov Front?

This light-hearted banter only lasted for a moment. However, when Rurik saw that some of the weapons' wooden boxes still had sharp shrapnel embedded in them, and some of the weapons still had dark red bloodstains on them, the urge to make a joke disappeared without a trace and eventually turned into a sigh.

The German troops appeared on a misty morning.

They emerged from the woods in the distance, forming a rather sparse inverted triangle formation, probably smaller than a company, and advanced towards Rurik's position in a relaxed and quiet manner.

A few days earlier, the 52nd Army, tasked with rescuing the Germans, had launched a desperate assault, pushing them back several kilometers. Considering their own strength and tactical capabilities, the Soviets retreated and dug trenches along the treeline approximately two kilometers along the railway corridor, repositioning their defenses. Rurik's temporary group and two other regiments of the 52nd Army were stationed in this half-dug trench.

Now, this group of Nazis were walking out from the distant forest, crossing the open area between the two forests like they were on an outing - the snow in this area had begun to melt, but the muddy permafrost had not yet completely thawed. If they set out early in the morning, the German army could easily cover this distance.

This was probably a typical test of troop strength, Rurik concluded. He turned on the walkie-talkie and pressed the talk button, which clicked twice.

He signaled his soldiers not to act rashly and expose their firepower points.

These months of experience had made Rurik quite familiar with German tactics and Soviet weaknesses. In most cases, the Germans would commit all their forces, including reserves, at the outset of an attack, without the customary Soviet artillery preparations. In these seemingly unreserved "wave attacks," the Germans would divide their infantry and armored vehicles—if they had any—into three columns: front, center, and rear. The first column was often this decoy-like formation.

They would never charge forward. Once they were attacked, they would immediately lie down and hide.

Faced with this kind of enemy showing weakness, the Soviets would often choose to open fire early, attempting to suppress the enemy's advance. At this point, the Germans' direct fire would quickly launch, destroying exposed firing points, while indirect fire would suppress any reinforcements on the flanks. Meanwhile, the second echelon in the rear would quickly surpass the first echelon, launching a true charge under the cover of firepower, breaking through the Soviet positions in one fell swoop.

This echelon often included engineers and assault troops, along with extensive artillery support, and possessed exceptional breakthrough capabilities. Rurik had witnessed numerous instances of German assaults like this, tearing a hole through Soviet defenses. Beyond the roar of gunfire, he hadn't even heard a single sound other than the charge whistle. Their formations were dispersed but not loose, and they could shift positions simply by whistle sounds and hand signals, demonstrating a high level of tactical proficiency.

As for the Soviets… Rurik had seen many commanders directly launch counterattacks, even going so far as to lead them with their political commissars. This was indeed a courageous act, but given the superior firepower of the Germans, even a successful counterattack would incur heavy losses for the Soviets—and at that point, the German third echelon would catch up and crush the Soviet soldiers one by one.

Once the defense was breached, the entire line would often be penetrated by the Germans' deep assault. Then, the Nazis would move forward, destroying the artillery,

Destroy the logistics point, thereby causing the collapse of the entire defense line. If they have tanks,

Then the speed will be further accelerated.

Behind them crouched artillery and anti-tank guns, ready to fire. Rurik thought to himself that the soldiers under his command had experienced too many such incidents in the encirclement, and that these painful lessons had enabled them to curb their urge to open fire...

Whoosh! Ta-da-da!

The Germans were still a thousand meters away, what could he possibly hit? Who the hell fired the shot?

The fire came from a Maxim machine gun operated by the replacement company, and this machine gun's firing caused almost all the replacement troops, whose nerves were already highly tense, to open fire: riflemen, light machine guns, and even the very valuable 82mm recoilless guns. The fierce firepower poured down on the Germans, seemingly knocking them to the ground in an instant.

That part of the position was held by the defeated soldiers of the Second Assault Army, which Political Commissar Titalenko had just reorganized! Although the basic organization had been restored after the political commissar's kind care and drastic measures, it was impossible to expect them to have the same combat habits as his own men!

"Ivan! Old Ivan! Go quickly..."

Before Rurik could even press the talk button on his walkie-talkie, an elderly soldier rushed over from the firing position. He, along with several NCOs and soldiers, rushed toward the roaring fire, like a breakwater holding back the tide of attack. One by one, they kicked the regulars who were firing nervously, held down the 82mm guns that were being loaded, and dragged the Maxim machine gun crew, who were shouting "Fire!", from their positions.

"Madman! You're going to kill everyone!"

He is Ivan Vadimovich, an old non-commissioned officer in Rurik's group. The soldiers love him, respect him, and listen to him. This reliable old comrade is scolding the overly nervous machine gun crew while helping them move Maxim down from the circular open-air fortification and prepare to move to another vacant position.

Then, after a low whistling sound, a violent explosion occurred. 75mm infantry guns and 81mm mortar shells rained down like raindrops. Old Ivan only had time to push the machine gun group out before he fell to the second and third rounds.

Bang, bang, boom!

The torrent of shells was precise and deadly, instantly overwhelming the machine gun crews that hadn't yet retreated and knocking down the 82mm gunless crews that were collecting their equipment. Meanwhile, the German troops, who had been strolling leisurely, began to lower their bodies and accelerate forward. Figures flashed through the unusually quiet woods as the second wave of German troops began to advance in charging formation. The distinctive roar of the "linen scissors" machine guns began to howl, raining down on Rurik and his men.

"Loriac! Right hand, 2 o'clock!" Without time to be sad, Rurik noticed a wisp of smoke rising from the woods, and he called out to his artillery "general manager".

By the time the liaison team called the rear artillery group, the Germans had already rushed to the position! Now we must call the artillery in our hands!

Baikal seals, Baikal seals, salmon here! Baseline fire 0-65 to the right, scale 717, Nazi artillery!" Comrade Lori Exkorzhev, the gunnery commander who previously operated the 76mm regimental gun, had already gripped the Baofeng No. 1 handheld radio. "Change range three times, forward one, forward two, forward three! Fire five rounds each! Shooting completed, move immediately!"

Black clouds of dust began to explode on the battlefield, and the rapidly firing 82mm mortars began to fire a barrage of bullets at the jungle where the artillery was hidden, suppressing the enemy's artillery projections.

The Germans on the front line crouched low, advancing swiftly and steadily. Rurik could already make out the Germans' distinctive dark grass-green uniforms and dark helmets through his binoculars. Their steps weren't light, and they weren't running fast, but Rurik knew perfectly well that if they advanced within reach of grenades and submachine guns, he'd likely be met with World War I-style "stormtrooper" tactics.

His own troops might be able to hold off the enemy, and logically speaking, as long as they remained patient, the other troops should also be able to... Rurik was not going to gamble on that kind of probability!

The second echelon of the German army in front of them surpassed the first echelon that was firing machine guns and launched a formal attack. The 50mm mortars with a closer shooting range also began to fire at the Soviet mortars of the same caliber, firing smoke bombs while trying to destroy the opponent's machine guns that served as fire support.

He glanced at the slightly bulging patch of earth in front of his position, imagining a row of curved "Bakelite box" mines connected in series by blasting tubes.

Rurik quickly turned the frequency knob of the walkie-talkie and switched to frequency band "6".

"Pufferfish! Pufferfish! This is saury!"

"Prepare for the thunder!"

Chapter 647: Liu Ban’s Story (4) Before Despair

Boom!

Sparse explosions erupted from the soft soil in front of the position. The powerful metal cloud only knocked down two engineers this time, and left three others on the ground howling in pain. Flares were then fired from the Soviet position, and snipers began firing in the fleeting light, killing any German soldiers who were exposed to the light.

The Germans immediately responded with mortars, but the enemy was in the dark, and the Soviets' remaining mortars began to counterattack. Seeing that this night operation had little effect, the German non-commissioned officers on the front line decisively sounded the retreat whistle and led their troops back into the darkness.

The enemy retreated.

"The third day, the third day..."

The watch's hands passed 12 o'clock. Rurik tried to press the talk button on his walkie-talkie to alert the company on guard, but his body refused to obey his command, and he couldn't muster any strength. He instinctively reached for his hands to support his unbalanced weight, but found his strong arms were as soft as cheese sticks. Swaying back and forth, Lieutenant Colonel Rurik Kapovich-Kotlinsky could no longer stand upright and collapsed into the bunker.

I am...

Fatigue completely overwhelmed him like an avalanche.

On the first day, after the first encounter with an "M" directional mine attack, which resulted in the loss of nearly a third of an entire echelon, the Germans not only began using 105mm and 150mm guns for artillery preparation, but also began increasing the proportion of engineers in the second echelon, destroying the mine triggers as they advanced. Furthermore, Rurik had only a few mines in total and no time for detailed deployment, so the thin minefield used to block the enemy was no longer effective.

And then, Rurik truly witnessed the capital of "arrogance" of the Nazi army that was able to sweep across almost the entire European continent.

The Germans began to build simple bunkers behind the tree line to create firing positions for infantry guns. They brought in 50mm PAK38 anti-tank guns.

, in conjunction with the 81mm mortar, to directly fire at any exposed Soviet firing points

--This simple and swift infantry-artillery coordination was so efficient that it could often launch the first round of suppression within less than 3 minutes after a Soviet fire point opened fire, causing the defending Rurik a splitting headache.

Someone suggested launching a counterattack, or sending troops around to attack the forest opposite to eliminate the annoying artillery. Rurik, taking a look at the forces at his disposal, rejected the idea. Instead, he called in the army's artillery. Fifteen minutes later, 152mm and 12mm guns streaked across the sky, seemingly shattering the entire forest. The Germans did not launch another offensive that day, and the deadly direct artillery fire did not return.

However, a square-shaped reconnaissance plane appeared in the sky the next day.

The plane flew very slowly and low, but it remained out of the range of the anti-aircraft guns. At one point, Rurik saw a few chains of fire rising from the rear, but the plane was never hit - it was like a dancer gliding across the wilderness, weaving through the stage composed of projectiles, and about half an hour later, it brought a devastating rain of bullets.

The scream of 150mm grenades cut through the sky, and Rurik knew that, at least today, he could not expect any reliable fire support from the rear.

The battle to hold the breakthrough point was extremely difficult, even more difficult than leading troops through the muddiest swamps and marching on the coldest nights.

If the first day's battle was like limping in lava, then the second day's fierce battle would be like

Fighting demons in hell.

The German offensive intensified, pouring in more men and firepower. Under the relentless pressure, one of Rurik's flank regiments collapsed first—pinned down by the Germans' precise, coordinated firepower and driven into the trenches by their well-trained assault troops. Disarray reigned. Although Rurik promptly dispatched reserves to seal the breach, the regiment's political commissar was killed, and its commander, wounded multiple times in the abdomen, was unable to maintain command.

At the same time, the infantry regiment headquarters on the other side was bombarded by German artillery. Except for the political commissar who went to the front line to boost morale, the regiment commander and the staff were almost wiped out.

Looking at the jungle behind him, looking at the group of comrades who were retreating on foot along the railway in the distance, running towards hope from the encirclement, listening to the rumbling of gunfire coming from behind and in the distance, Rurik was silent for a long time, looking at the sky and spitting out a puff of white mist.

"Infantry Regiment 526, Infantry Regiment 528, start now and follow my command."

He stated quietly, like a rock that stood still.

Political Commissar Titalenko arrived quickly. He presented Rurik with a commendation and a letter of appointment from the Volkhov Front Command, promoting him to Lieutenant Colonel and placing him in command of the expanded "Rurik Provisional Group." Commissar Zheng also presented him with five companies of reorganized defeated soldiers, three 120mm mortars, 13 82mm mortars, and a large quantity of "turtle fists."

"That's not enough, Comrade Commissar," said Rurik. "I want direct-fire artillery, any kind of it."

Direct fire, primarily based on 107mm recoilless rifles, was a thorn in the German army's side. Every firing drew brutal retaliation, even direct fire from heavy artillery like the G33. The Germans suffered heavy losses in the battle and were in urgent need of reinforcements. However, looking at Political Commissar Titalenko, with his dark circles under his eyes, a weary face, and a hoarse voice, Rurik was surprised at his own cold, unreasoning greed, at his oppression of this comrade with whom he had only just met, but with whom he had already developed a deep friendship.

"Okay," Commissar Titalenko said, his voice like the grinding of gears. "I'll go find it."

As soon as he finished speaking, the German artillery shells swept across the entire position and exploded in the woods behind.

The battlefield can make people grow quickly, but it can also make people die quickly. However, in a sense, those who are forced to grow but not killed may also have to endure pain like slow slicing.

Even though he did not like this kind of growth, Rurik could not refuse - now, he was defending the southwest side of the retreat route of the Second Assault Army in the Lyuban area. Behind him were the blocking troops on the other side, other comrades in the army who had not yet completed the evacuation, tens of thousands of living lives, and his own motherland.

Rurik sank into a long, boundless darkness. He could feel his consciousness emerging from a deep sleep. He thought slowly. Perhaps this would be his final destination, but...

A cool yet spicy taste emanated from his lips. Rurik felt a stream of pungent liquid flow from his lips into his mouth, exploding there like a grenade. He drew in a breath, and a similarly cool, almost painful sensation shot straight to his head—like a drowning man emerging from the water. He gasped deeply and awoke.

"You're awake, Comrade Rurik!" The voice sounded familiar. It must be the cook, Tilirenko. Rurik opened his eyes, rubbed his head, and asked, "How long have I slept?" "Four hours."

A hoarse male voice boomed from the side. Rurik turned and saw Commissar Titalenko, seated on an empty ammunition crate. He was fiddling with a small green potion, staring at himself sleeping on the floor. "Direct-fire artillery, one battery," he said wearily, his words tight. "19-K, two; 107 no, three; 82 high and low pressure, two; Zis-3, one." Finally, that was all.

"That's all," Commissar Titalenko repeated. "There are two more companies..."

Before he could finish his words, his slightly chubby body slumped to the side, like a stalled tractor, making no sound. "Don't wake him up. Let the Political Commissar rest for a while."

Rurik stood up from his shelter and looked towards the east.

Across the leafless birch forest, the clouds there were still pitch black, without any sunlight.

Chapter 648: Liu Ban's Story (5) I'm Not a Hero

Lieutenant Colonel Rurik and Political Commissar Titalenko leaned against the earthen wall of the trench, staring blankly at the starless night sky. Straight white birch trees rose from the ground beside them, as if growing from their bodies, piercing the dark sky. "Comrade Titalenko," he suddenly asked, "what did you do before?"

"Me? I'm just an ordinary political commissar, nothing special, Comrade Lieutenant Colonel." The political commissar, who had slept for almost six hours, hugged a gun and regained some energy.

If you call a commissar who can reorganize the defeated troops, secure so much ammunition, artillery, and supplies, and handle things so well, mediocre, then I'm afraid there are no good commissars in the world. Rurik lowered his head and exhaled a long, white breath. "We are like the 'Ship of Theseus,' replacing the planks while sailing in the storm."

"You are also a philosopher, Comrade Rurik."

Commissar Titalenko smiled. He had just stuffed two candies into his mouth to soothe his throat, and his voice sounded a little strange. "Before, I was just a section chief working on the Leningrad section of the railway. My daily job was to sit in the office, watch the trains, and make phone calls to report on the situation."

"The train was often late, and I had to take full responsibility, write long reports, and deal with my superiors. Sometimes the delayed train disappeared after passing the previous station. Another time, I rode a horse along the railway line to look for her, and what happened was that the train hit an elderly man driving a horse!

"The old man couldn't be saved, but the young driver was terrified and trembling. He didn't even notice that the signalman had taken the wrong route and drove the train onto an unfinished logging spur line!"

Political Commissar Titalenko recounted the story with emotion, a rare nostalgic tone, as if he were reminiscing about something. "If it weren't for the war, I'd probably still be riding a horse, patrolling the railway line, watching over the trains that were always late; and you, Comrade Rurik, might have become the stationmaster of a logging station.

"None of us are cut out to be heroes, yet here we are, on the battlefield."

Yes, everyone came to the battlefield.

Rurik could see the leafless branches of birch trees through the rough edge of the clouds, like cracks in the sky - a sign of the brightening sky. He couldn't help but think of his experience working at a logging station - this place was thousands of kilometers away from the logging station in Siberia, but it gave him an inexplicable sense of familiarity.

Two soldiers from Leningrad took out four vitamin candies from the bottom of their backpacks, melted them in a teacup with hot water, clinked glasses with each other, and drank the rest; a squad leader from Kazan filled the DP magazine with bullets, then looked at a pile of spare magazines and smoked quietly: Ha, these guys smoke and drink sugary drinks, if it were normal times, I'm afraid they would have to drink a little more vodka.

A communications soldier, chewing a candy candy, attempted to repair the only shortwave radio using the dismantled Baofeng station. Sparks struck him, and he flung his hands aside: "This won't do! In radio school, messing around like this will definitely get you slammed by the teacher." A medical soldier shone his flashlight, calmly closed Old Ivan's eyes, and finally tucked his body into a body bag: "Alas, may he rest in peace."

The cook, Tirenko, was cooking biscuit porridge mixed with oatmeal. There were only a few biscuits and not much oatmeal either—of course, for the wounded. I wonder if this young man,

Can I become an excellent chef in the future?

But after all, there are no ifs. Right now, fighting the war well is the most important thing. On the nights when the Germans did not attack, perhaps feeling some kind of inspiration and the approach of a deadline, everyone was seizing the time to rest and enjoy the last bit of peace.

But the Germans came after all.

As the sun rose and illuminated the clouds in the sky, the Germans launched an attack facing the rising sun.

Tanks finally appeared in the woods in the distance. Although the German troops in front of them were all infantry divisions, they still managed to get some Czech-made 38t tanks.

- A total of 6 vehicles were lined up in a diagonal line along the forest path, slowly approaching; and the reconnaissance

The battalion's Type 222 armored vehicles, also equipped with machine guns or small-caliber cannons, followed behind the tanks.

Rurik called for the army's artillery bombardment despite the explosions of 150 and 105 guns. The 152 and 122 shells flew through the woods and landed in the jungle where the Germans were.

But they were scattered and not on a large scale, and could not be compared with the scale of the German artillery bombardment.

-The day before, that damn reconnaissance plane guided the German counter-artillery bombardment, and the army group's artillery must have suffered heavy losses.

Dark green clothing began to appear above the treeline, and behind the first column of tanks and armored vehicles, the main assault force of the German infantry began to line up and fight. Rurik stared at them intently, staring at the artillery that was trying to find hidden in the shadows, but the next second, just as the artillery stopped, the violent roar of the engine began to rise from the sky.

"It's an air raid! Prepare to fight!"

A massive twin-engine bomber appeared, accompanied by a swarm of nimble biplanes. Rurik held his troops back, and the twin-engine bombers flew across the front lines, while the two-winged Deathwings began circling over the position, like vultures awaiting the death of a lion, like heavy swords hanging overhead.

As the German tanks rolled over the mine belt, which had long since dwindled to a few mines, triggering a directional mine, Rurik finally gave the order. "Fire!"

Less than 200 meters away, the soldiers could almost make out the rivets and welds on the German tanks. Immediately, the DP, Maxim, 82mm, and 45mm guns all opened fire at full speed, while the Germans, with indirect and direct fire from the bushes, quickly responded. A 38t tank was struck head-on by a 107mm armor-piercing round, exploding violently. The remaining tanks and armored vehicles, spewing flames, accelerated forward.

The German infantry in the rear also began to move forward, charging at an accelerated pace amidst the whistles. In the air, German attack planes excitedly aimed at the mortars firing in the woods, swaying left and right to avoid the chain of fire from the anti-aircraft machine guns, making a shrill roar and dropping black bombs.

Boom boom boom boom!

Some were hit in the head and fell to the ground without a sound; others, their legs severed by shrapnel, fell like dead branches without support. The shrapnel and rain of bullets whistled through the air with a sharp whistle, like a chainsaw cutting through the moist rings of a tree, harvesting the lives of both enemy and friend...

Rurik's mood was as calm as a frozen lake. The smell of burnt garlic when the bomb exploded could not disturb him at all. He calmly observed the situation on the battlefield and counted the losses on both sides as if he was traversing fresh tree stumps.

There was also dense gunfire coming from behind, as the friendly forces behind were resisting the attack of another German army.

Over the past few days, the Second Assault Army had evacuated much of its troops from the encirclement, but Rurik had no idea how many remained. However, he knew that since yesterday, the proportion of wounded among the evacuees had increased dramatically, and even Political Commissar Titalenko was unable to reorganize many troops—which meant that the entire army's evacuation was nearing completion.