Burning Moscow

Chapter 575: A Difficult Mission (Part 1)After finishing his report on my assignment, Tikhov asked Zhukov curiously, “Comrade General, why did the High Command suddenly send you to Stalingrad?” In response to his old friend’s question, Zhukov smiled and replied, “Comrade Stalin sent me to replace Comrade Vasilevsky and take charge of leading our military operations throughout the Stalingrad region. This is because the General Staff and the Supreme Command urgently need Vasilevsky, that ‘mastermind,’ to coordinate the overall strategic situation nationwide. As for the actual command of operations, Comrade Stalin apparently believes I am better suited for the role than the Chief of the General Staff, who comes from a staff background, so he sent me here.” Earlier, several generals had mentioned one after another: wherever Zhukov goes, an offensive begins. Although Zhukov neither confirmed nor denied this claim, Tykhov, the incoming commander of the 62nd Army, was still curious and asked him about the next phase of the operation. After a moment’s silence, Zhukov replied calmly: “ Before I left Moscow, the Supreme Commander himself told me that the 24th, 66th, and 1st Guards Armies would be immediately dispatched to Stalingrad. So the first thing I’ll do upon arriving in Stalingrad is to immediately begin organizing the counteroffensive of these three armies.” Just as Trokhov was about to say something else, someone suddenly rushed into the room from outside, glanced quickly at those present, then strode over to Tikhov’s side, leaned down close to his ear, and whispered a few words. Zhukov, noticing this sudden intruder, grew serious. He looked at the man and asked in a stern tone, “Who are you? ” Caught off guard by Zhukov’s sudden question, the newcomer was startled to discover that a general was actually seated in the room. He was so flustered that he didn’t know how to answer and could only cast a pleading glance at Tkachev. Tkachev, however, was clearly still processing the news he had just received and failed to notice his subordinate’s predicament. Apart from me and Tsekov, no one else in the room seemed to recognize the newcomer. Seeing him so flustered, I was just about to stand up to answer Zhukov. Unexpectedly, Zhukov repeated his question: “Didn’t you hear what I said, Comrade Private? I just asked you who you are and why you came in without reporting first.” Zhukov’s voice snapped Tkachev out of his reverie. He quickly stood up and introduced him to Zhukov: “ “Comrade General, this is my orderly, Sidorin.” Then he took a step toward Zhukov, lowering his voice slightly, and said, “He is the son of my former operations officer, Lieutenant Colonel Sidorin. Ever since the lieutenant colonel fell on the banks of the Don, he has been by my side.” Tikhov’s words left Zhukov silent. He walked over to young Sidorin, patted him on the shoulder, and asked kindly, “Young Sidorin, how old are you this year?” Young Sidolin lowered his head and replied timidly, “I’ll be sixteen this year.” Zhukov nodded after hearing this and said, “Though you’re still young, you’re already a proud soldier of the Red Army. Why didn’t you report your presence when you came in just now?” Hearing this, Little Sidorin quickly looked up and explained, “I’m sorry, Comrade Marshal. I didn’t know you were here, and since I’m very familiar with Sister Oshanina, I didn’t think to report my presence and just barged right in.” Hearing this, Zhukov couldn’t help but turn to me and ask curiously, “Lida, is that true?” I quickly stood up and replied, “Yes, Comrade Commander. Little Sidorin and I are very close; when he comes to my command post, he almost never announces himself—he just walks right in.” ” After hearing this, Zhukov turned to Sidolin and asked, “Sidolin, you rushed in here to see General Tkachev—what is the matter?” Seeing Zhukov’s affable demeanor, Sidolin was no longer as frightened as he had been moments before. He quickly snapped to attention, stood ramrod straight, and reported loudly: “ “We’ve just received a report that German forces are launching a fierce assault on the Meshkova River. The fighting is intense.” Little Sidolin’s words startled everyone in the room—except for Zhukov and Tkachev. Zhukov scanned the map a few times, then asked Sidolin, “ “How many German troops are there?” “Under air cover, the Germans have deployed over 200 tanks and armored vehicles, along with about a regiment of infantry, to attack our defensive line. The 126th Infantry Division, defending this sector, is currently engaged in fierce combat with the Germans.” “Comrade Trikov.” After listening to Sidolin’s report, Zhukov ordered Trokhov, who was standing before him: “This may be the last battle you command with the 64th Army. Go to the front immediately to assess the situation. In a word, hold the Meshkova River at all costs; do not let the Germans advance a single step.” Tikhov quickly agreed and left the command post with Sidolin. I raised my hand to check my watch; it was nearly noon, so I asked Zhukov, “Comrade General, it’s getting late—would you like to stay here for lunch?” Zhukov also glanced at his watch, nodded, and said, “All right, then. I’ll have lunch here before heading to Stalingrad to hand over command to Comrade Vasilevsky. ” Upon hearing that Zhukov was willing to stay for lunch, I immediately instructed Razumyeva to go to the mess hall to make the arrangements. After Razumyeva left, Zhukov inquired about my division’s defensive situation. Once I had briefed him in detail, he remarked thoughtfully, “Judging by the current situation, Hoth’s 4th Panzer Army has achieved nothing in nearly a week of fighting. They have suffered heavy losses in personnel and equipment, and has now lost the capacity to advance further. They have been forced to temporarily abandon their plan to capture the Red Army City and then push on to the Volga River to link up with Paulus’s 6th Army.” When Zhukov finished speaking, I humbly sought his advice: “Although the German 4th Panzer Army has temporarily halted its offensive, the 6th Army under Paulus is still attacking with great ferocity. I would like to ask: under the current circumstances, what actions should our forces take to counter the Germans’ powerful offensive?” As soon as I spoke, I noticed that both Krylov and Kirillov’s faces turned pale, and I immediately realized I had asked a question I shouldn’t have. Krylov glanced at the silent Zhukov, stood up, and rebuked me: “Colonel Oshanina, please be mindful of your rank. You are merely a division commander, not a front commander. Comrade Zhukov is under no obligation to report to you on his operational deployments during the campaign.” Although his words were harsh, I could still tell from his expression that he had stood up to rebuke me only because he was worried I might offend Zhukov. “Don’t get so worked up, Comrade Krestov,” Zhukov said, raising his hand in a downward gesture to signal Krestov to sit down, and added, “Comrade Lida’s strategic vision and her ability to assess the situation often surpasses that of us senior commanders. If the High Command had acted decisively upon Comrade Lida’s warning to redeploy troops and reinforce defenses in the Don River basin and the Stalingrad area, it remains an open question whether the Germans would have been able to cross the Don at this very moment.” Hearing Zhukov say this, Kirillov, who had remained silent until then, was taken aback. He asked curiously, “ “Comrade General, when I was still at the Central Committee, I heard other colleagues mention in private that there was a staff officer in the Volkhov Front who actually advised Comrade Stalin through General Meretskov, stating that the German offensive targets during the summer campaign were neither Moscow nor the Caucasus oil fields. At the time, after hearing this report, was furious. After berating General Meretskov, he said he would send that staff officer to guard Mamayev Kurgan. As you know, for a commander to be transferred from the front lines to a non-combat zone to take on defensive duties is practically a form of marginalization; one’s career in the army effectively ends there. “Hearing you say that, could it be that the person who advised Comrade Stalin was Colonel Oshanina?” Zhukov looked at me, smiling but saying nothing. I had no choice but to stand up, my face flushing, and admit to Kirillov: “You’re right, Comrade Regimental Political Commissar—that person was me.” ” After hearing this, Kirillov took a step forward, extended his hand to me, and said with some emotion, “So it was you after all, Colonel Oshanina. You are truly remarkable—to be able to deduce the German army’s next move based on nothing more than a few scattered clues.” Kirillov’s words seemed to prompt Zhukov. He looked up at me and asked, “Lida, do you think the 126th Infantry Division can hold its positions along the Meshkova River?” Hearing his question, I shook my head almost without thinking, then replied decisively, “Comrade General, forgive my frankness, but the 126th Division cannot hold the Meshkova River.” “Why? Give me your reasons,” Zhukov asked. Thanks to my recent experience working at the army group headquarters, I was able to answer Zhukov’s question fluently and naturally: “First, the 126th Infantry Division suffered heavy casualties in earlier battles and has not received timely reinforcements; and currently the entire division has fewer than four thousand men remaining; secondly, in terms of equipment, the 126th Division lacks anti-aircraft weapons and does not have sufficient anti-tank weapons. Facing the Germans’ three-dimensional offensive, even if our soldiers fight with the utmost tenacity, they will not be able to withstand the Germans’ powerful assault.” After hearing my words, Zhukov gazed at the ceiling, his fingers tapping lightly on the table as if he were digesting what I had said. After a moment, his fingers stopped, and he frowned, fixing me with a probing gaze as he asked with displeasure, “Lida, according to you, are we to simply stand by and watch the Germans seize the Meshkova River positions, with no way to stop them?” Zhukov’s stern expression made me feel nervous for the first time, and I replied somewhat nervously, “ “That… that is correct, Comrade General. As far as I understand, not only the 64th Army, but even our entire Front is at a disadvantage in terms of technical equipment compared to the Germans. To turn this unfavorable situation around, we can only launch offensives elsewhere to divert the Germans’ attention, disperse their forces, and relieve the pressure on our defensive lines.” After speaking all this in one breath, I felt cold sweat soaking through the back of my uniform. After hearing my words, surprisingly neither Krylov nor Kirillov commented; instead, they both turned their gaze toward Zhukov, waiting to see his reaction. Zhukov did not stand up, nor did he change his posture; he simply frowned as he pondered. Seeing that Zhukov had fallen into deep thought and showed no reaction for quite some time, Krylov, sitting beside him, could not help but call his name softly: “ ‘Georgi Konstantinovich, what are you thinking about?’ Zhukov snapped out of his reverie, settled into a more comfortable position, and then said to the few of us present: ‘Under the current circumstances, I won’t keep this from you. According to intelligence received by the High Command, on August 27 and 28, Hitler’s High Command redeployed the German forces attacking Stalingrad. They ordered the units on the right flank to move toward the left flank—more precisely, to the Abuganevrovo and Kapkinsky areas in the center of the front. The units transferred to that region included the German 14th and 24th Panzer Divisions, the 60th Motorized Infantry Division, and the Romanian 6th and 20th Infantry Divisions. The mission of these units was to launch an assault on the Zeta and Nariman areas, pass through these two villages to link up with Paulus’s 6th Army, and encircle the two divisions of the 62nd and 64th Armies in that sector…” Zhukov’s words made all of us gasp. If these units were truly surrounded by the Germans, then the Battle of Stalingrad would be over. After all, in the later stages, the 62nd Army was the main force holding the northern part of the city. Fortunately, Zhukov’s next words allowed us to breathe a sigh of relief: “… …Upon receiving this intelligence, the High Command promptly issued an alert to the Front. Consequently, Yelemyenko, Commander of the Stalingrad Front, immediately ordered the units of the 62nd and 64th Armies that were at risk of encirclement to withdraw swiftly to new defensive positions.” As I listened to Zhukov speak, I thought to myself: No wonder the main forces of the army had to retreat earlier. I suspect that Shumilov and Tikhov had already sensed the Germans’ intentions long before the General Staff did, which is why they promptly ordered the main forces to withdraw in a timely manner. Just then, a voice called out “Report!” from the doorway. Before I could speak, Zhukov had already raised his voice and shouted toward the door, “Come in!” The officer who entered was not one of my men, but a lieutenant colonel—apparently one of Zhukov’s staff brought from Moscow. He strode up to Zhukov, saluted, then pulled a folder from under his arm, opened it, and handed a sheet of paper to Zhukov—it looked like a freshly received battle report. After taking the report, Zhukov waved to the lieutenant colonel, who tucked the folder back under his arm, saluted, and turned to leave. After reading the report, Zhukov placed it on the table, a faint smile appeared on his face, and he said to us, “Comrades, I have some good news for you. The ‘Northern Group of Forces’ of the Stalingrad Front, commanded by Colonel Gorokhov and composed of the 124th and 149th Independent Infantry Brigades, launched a fierce counterattack against the German forces this morning. Thanks to the heroic and tenacious fighting of our troops, the German main assault force north of Stalingrad has suffered heavy casualties. Although our counterattack was ultimately repelled by the Germans, they have lost the ability to continue their offensive against the city of Stalingrad in the short term. This has bought us precious time to assemble the necessary defensive forces within the city.” ” Krylov picked up the report from the table, glanced at it, and said excitedly, “Yes, thanks to our tenacious offensive, we forced the enemy to spread their forces across a wide front, thereby weakening their potential for a fierce direct assault on Stalingrad.” “Colonel Oshanina.” Zhukov waited until Krylov had finished speaking before suddenly calling my name—not by my nickname as he usually did, but by my surname. Hearing him address me this way, I knew an important mission was in store. I quickly stood up from my seat and answered loudly, “Present!” “ In two days, your unit will be transferred to the command of the 62nd Army. Before your independent division departs, I want you to launch a counterattack against Hoth’s 4th Panzer Army south of Stalingrad, depriving them of the ability to advance toward the city in the short term. Can you do that?” Launch a counterattack against Hoth’s 4th Panzer Army—the moment I heard that order, I was stunned. If I wasn’t given reinforcements in the form of artillery , tanks, and air support, it would be nothing short of a suicide mission. Seeing that I hadn’t answered decisively, Zhukov grew somewhat displeased. He raised his voice and asked, “Colonel Oshanina, what’s the matter with you? Are you deaf or mute? Why aren’t you answering me?” “Comrade General, I cannot give you a precise answer.” ” I replied hesitantly. As soon as the words left my mouth, I realized how inappropriate my response was, but I had no choice but to press on. “My independent division is poorly equipped and lacks combat effectiveness. If we cannot receive reinforcements of artillery and armored units, as well as the necessary air support, then I believe a counterattack against the German 4th Panzer Army will not succeed.” Zhukov snorted heavily and said with displeasure, “ “If I could provide you with everything you need, do you think I’d still need to send your Independent Division to carry out this mission? Either of the two divisions from the 64th Army on your right flank, or the 57th Army on your left—any single division drawn from them could successfully complete this mission.” Zhukov’s words left me speechless, I didn’t know how to respond, and I didn’t dare make any rash promises to him, so I could only lower my head and stare blankly at the map on the table. Zhukov waited for a moment. Seeing that I hadn’t spoken, he sighed, walked over to me, patted my shoulder gently, and said kindly, “Lida, I’ve always trusted you, which is why I’m entrusting you with such a difficult yet honorable mission.” Hearing him say this, I almost jumped up to argue with him: Everyone knows a mission like this—a suicide mission—is incredibly difficult. If our entire unit is wiped out, what good will all those honors do us? But facing an affable elder like Zhukov, I could only keep those words to myself. Seeing that I remained silent, he continued to urge me: “I know that this mission is a near-certain death for your Independent Division…” Hearing this, I thought to myself: If you know it’s a near-certain death, why are you assigning it to us? “I am entrusting this counterattack mission solely to you. As for how to carry it out, the decision rests entirely with you; no one will interfere with your judgment. One final reminder: time is running out. You must complete the counterattack against the 4th Tank Army before your division redeploys.” ” With Zhukov having made his position this clear, I had no choice but to accept: “Yes, Comrade General. I will certainly carry out a counterattack against Hoth’s 4th Tank Army within the specified timeframe.” Hearing my response, a smile returned to Zhukov’s face. He patted me on the shoulder and said warmly, “Lida, I knew you’d say that. I wouldn’t feel at ease entrusting this mission to any other unit, but with you in charge—given your capabilities—I’m confident you’ll see it through to a successful conclusion.” Though my heart was bleeding, I had to put on a brave face and smile. After all, if Zhukov hadn’t arrived in time, I would have been taken back to Stalingrad with the joint investigation team to stand trial. In a country like the Soviet Union, where reason meant nothing, the commander of a main force division was to be arrested and punished for the sacrifice of a few dozen soldiers; and if I had outright refused Zhukov’s order, he might have taken my life directly—without even a court-martial. I forced a smile onto my face and said to Zhukov, “Comrade General, rest assured. I will do my utmost to teach Hoth and his men a lesson, leaving them powerless to launch an attack on the city of Stalingrad in the near future.” “Well done,” Zhukov praised me, then raised his hand to check his watch and asked curiously, “ “Lida, what’s the matter with your communications second lieutenant? It’s been nearly half an hour—why hasn’t he brought us lunch yet?” Hearing this, I smiled sheepishly and hurriedly replied, “Comrade General, please wait a moment. I’ll go to the mess hall myself to see what’s going on and have lunch brought to you all as soon as possible.” Before I could step out, the long-awaited Razumyeva, accompanied by two soldiers, jogged into the command post carrying a tray. Upon seeing me, Razumyeva said sheepishly: “I’m sorry, Comrade Division Commander. The kitchen didn’t know such important guests were coming, so the food they prepared was rather simple. I had to go and make them prepare something new.” Just as we were sitting down at the table, ready to enjoy a hearty lunch, the lieutenant colonel under Zhukov’s command came in again, bringing another update on the battle situation. After reading the report, Zhukov slammed his knife and fork down on the table. Meeting our astonished gazes, he said in a grave tone: “ “The Meshkova River has fallen. The 126th Infantry Division, which was holding the area, fought tenaciously against the Germans’ three-dimensional offensive but was ultimately unable to hold them back. The unit, having suffered heavy casualties, has now withdrawn to the rear.”