Burning Moscow

Chapter 744: The Hardest Days (X) I ate another three or four dumplings one after another, some with mashed potato filling and some with lamb. I was so hungry that I ate quickly, but Cui Kefu wasn’t slow either; in less than two minutes, only two dumplings remained in the lunchbox. Just as I was hesitating whether to eat another one, I suddenly heard someone shout, “Comrade Commander!” Trokhov and I both turned our heads simultaneously toward the sound. We saw a commander—soaked to the skin, caked in mud, wearing a wide-brimmed hat and a general’s overcoat—stumbling down the steps and heading toward us. Since his face was covered in dirt, just like Trokhov’s had been when he was first dug out, I couldn’t recognize him at all. The man reached Cui Kefu’s side, grabbed his arms with both hands, shook him vigorously, and shouted, “Commander, it hurts! My 37th Guards Division is still in battle. As long as there is a single man left, we will never retreat!” After speaking, he covered his cheek and sat down at the table. Although I still hadn’t gotten a clear look at his face, from his words I had already deduced that he was Major General Yeludev, commander of the 37th Guards Division. Tkachev clearly recognized the man as well, he glanced at Zholudev sitting at the table, then handed me the lunchbox he was holding, asking, “Would you like some more?” As Tkachev handed me the lunchbox, I had already noticed that the dumplings inside were covered in dust, most likely because Zholudev had just grabbed and shaken Tkachev, causing the dust from his clothes to fall into the box. Although my stomach was still growling with hunger at that moment, the thought of eating dumplings covered in dust was truly hard to swallow. So I had no choice but to pretend I was already full, smiling politely at Tkachev and saying, “Thank you, Comrade Commander, I’ve had enough.” Seeing that I wasn’t going to eat, Tsekhov didn’t stand on ceremony. He grabbed the remaining dumplings from the lunchbox, shoved them into his mouth, and swallowed them in a few bites. When he was done, he set the lunchbox down on the table, lowered his head, and asked Yolu Jiefu with concern, “Comrade Yolu Jiefu, have all the people from division headquarters been rescued?” Zolotev shook his head and said painfully, “My chief of staff has been killed, and the political commissar is seriously wounded. Among the operations and intelligence officers in the command post, three are dead and seven are wounded.” Just then, perhaps because a shell had landed and exploded nearby, dirt rained down from the ceiling with a clatter. Tkachev merely glanced up and said casually, “ “Comrade Roljukov, things aren’t much better here. Half an hour ago, Comrade Oshanina, the commander of the Independent Division, and I were also buried underground. Just now, two bunkers outside were blown up by enemy bombs, and headquarters is currently organizing a rescue effort.” Krelov suddenly ran over from the radio console. Without even greeting Roljuzhev, he hurriedly said to Tkachev, “Comrade Commander, it’s bad news—all telephone communications with our units have been cut off. Only the radio is working, but the signal is unstable, coming and going intermittently. I suggest immediately dispatching signal personnel to contact each unit to ensure uninterrupted command and control.” Hearing this, Tkachev’s expression grew even more grave. After a moment’s thought, he said with resignation, “All right, Comrade Chief of Staff, it seems we have no choice. Immediately dispatch a signalman or staff officer from headquarters to convey our orders to all units as quickly as possible. The order is simple: hold the line at all costs; do not retreat a single step.” “Understood!” Krelyov replied briefly before rushing out of the command post. As time passed, the German offensive not only showed no signs of weakening but actually appeared to be intensifying. By 3:00 p. m. , enemy tanks had penetrated deep into our defensive positions, advancing as far as the tractor factory and the “Barricade” factory areas. Although the units holding these positions were no longer intact, they continued to fight bravely while surrounded, effectively tying down the enemy’s movements. According to the telegram we received, they used firepower to sever the link between enemy infantry and tanks, forcing the enemy tanks to cower in place without infantry support, turning them into sitting ducks for our artillery and anti-tank gunners. Yet even so, enemy tanks had still broken through to the front of the Army Group headquarters, just 300 meters away from us. Upon hearing this bad news, Tkachev ordered Gradshev, who had just returned with Gurov: “Comrade Major, I order you to immediately lead the headquarters guard battalion into battle. If the enemy gets any closer, we’ll have to take on the German tanks ourselves. There’s no other option now; we can’t retreat any further, or we’ll lose our last remaining communications and command equipment.” Upon receiving his order, Gradshev merely acknowledged it with a nod but remained standing where he was. Tkachev looked at him in puzzlement and asked, “Comrade Major, if you’re not going to carry out the order, what are you still standing here for?” Hearing the commander’s question, Gradshev turned his gaze toward me and said hesitantly, “When General Oshanina arrived, she brought a guard platoon with her. I don’t know if they’re also participating in the battle.” “Comrade Major, of course they will.” The enemy had already closed in on headquarters; if Trokhov’s guard battalion was charging forward to fight to the death, how could my guard platoon possibly stay in the trenches and stand idly by? Before Trikov could speak, I volunteered, “Incorporate them into your guard battalion. These soldiers are veterans who have seen many battles; with them on board, we’ll have a much better chance of holding back the enemy’s advance.” But just as the headquarters guard battalion went out to meet the onrushing German forces, radio communication with the outside world began to gradually resume. The first news to come in was good: Colonel Berey, commander of the 84th Tank Brigade, reported to Tkachev: “Comrade Commander, ten tanks from my brigade are concealed in Skulipturne Park. I did not order them to counterattack, but to lie in ambush in case the Germans broke through. Just moments ago, a flood of German tanks surged toward Skulipturne Park, where they were ambushed. Our tank crews dealt a crushing blow to the German tanks, with every shot hitting its mark. Having suffered the loss of ten tanks destroyed and seven damaged, the enemy has now retreated in disarray.” Although Colonel Beliy brought us good news, the fighting outside headquarters was far from encouraging. Gradyshev sent word that although the enemy had been struck by our heavy fire, they were pushing forward relentlessly despite heavy casualties and were now less than two hundred meters from headquarters. Upon hearing this bad news, I quietly removed the magazine from my submachine gun and checked the bullets inside. If the Germans charged in a moment, this submachine gun would be far more effective than a pistol. The last time we encountered the Germans at Mamayev Kurgan, we still had the anti-aircraft bunkers in the trenches to hide in, but here, unless we jumped into the Volga River to escape, our only fate would be capture or death. Just as I had finished preparing for battle, I suddenly heard a radio operator shout, “Comrade Commander, we’ve received a radio message from the 117th Guards Regiment.” The 117th Guards Regiment—as soon as I heard that unit number, I immediately recalled that I had just dispatched a battalion from the regiment to come to their aid. Since they were calling, I assumed they had successfully broken out of the encirclement. If Krylov were here, he would certainly have answered this call. But he wasn’t present at the moment, so we all turned our attention to Trikov, waiting for him to pick up the phone. Unexpectedly, Trikov gave me a nod and said in a flat tone, “Comrade Oshanina, you answer this call. It might be from one of your subordinates.” I nodded, walked over to the radio operator, put on the headset, and shouted into the microphone, “Hello, this is Major General Oshaninina, commander of the Independent Division. Who is this?” After a moment of silence, a vaguely familiar voice came through the headset: “It’s me, Comrade Commander. It’s Ilya.” “So it’s Lieutenant Colonel Ilya.” It turned out to be Lieutenant Colonel Ilya, the deputy commander of the 1st Regiment. Since he was the one speaking to me, it seemed the encirclement of the 117th Guards Regiment had been broken. “What’s the situation? Have you rescued the officers and soldiers of the 117th Guards Regiment?” “Comrade Division Commander, rest assured,” Ilya said confidently. “The Guards Regiment has not been wiped out by the enemy.” When we arrived, there were at least a hundred German and Nazi corpses lying near the regiment headquarters, while our Guards soldiers were still tenaciously continuing to strike at the enemy. After our battalion arrived, we launched a pincer attack with friendly forces holding the headquarters, completely annihilating the attacking enemy.” “Well done!” After praising him, I pressed further: “What are your battalion’s casualties?” “The commander of the 1st Battalion and another company commander were killed in action. We suffered 71 casualties and 153 wounded, but the unit’s structure remains relatively intact, and we can continue fighting.” After listening to Major Ilya’s report, I couldn’t help but let out a wry smile. I hadn’t expected that the 1st Battalion, having been in combat for just over an hour, had already lost two companies. I quickly ordered him: “ “Comrade Major, I order you to immediately take command of the 117th Guards Regiment and lead the troops to hold the line. Remember, as long as there is a single man left, we absolutely must not lose this position…” Before I could finish speaking, a hand suddenly reached out from the side and grabbed the hand holding the microphone. Then, a deep male voice sounded in my ear: “Comrade Oshanina, please let me say a few words to the commander of the 117th Guards Regiment.” I turned my head and saw that the speaker was none other than Yeludev, the commander of the 37th Guards Division. I immediately realized that I was currently at headquarters, not at my own independent division’s headquarters. For someone like me to arbitrarily appoint one of my subordinates to command a friendly unit was a major military taboo. I quickly took off my headset and handed it to Yurov, casting a guilty glance at Tkachev, who was standing nearby. Tkachev, however, looked completely unfazed, as if he didn’t think much of my high-handed decision. I looked at Yelokhiev again. After taking the headset from me, he put it on as if nothing had happened and spoke into the microphone: “Hello, Comrade Lieutenant Colonel, this is Major General Yelokhiev, commander of the Guards Division. Please have the regiment’s commanders come to the phone; I have instructions to give them.” Hearing Yoluzyev speak like this, I wondered what he might say next, so I leaned in and listened intently. After a moment, a voice seemed to come through the headset, but the gunfire and explosions outside were so loud that even from this close distance, I couldn’t make out what was being said. I heard Yelokhiev say calmly, “You are the Chief of Staff of the 117th Regiment. That’s excellent. I am General Yelokhiev, the Division Commander. I am now announcing an appointment: effective immediately, Major Ilya from the Independent Division will officially assume the position of your regiment’s commander. Do you understand?” I was truly taken by surprise that Yeltsin would agree to my arrangement. As soon as he set down the headset and microphone, I quickly reached out and took his hands, shaking them vigorously as I said gratefully, “Thank you, thank you, Comrade General.” As he shook my hand, he smiled and said, “Comrade Oshanina, it is I who should be thanking you. In today’s battle, the 117th Guards Regiment not only suffered heavy casualties among its soldiers, but also lost half of its commanders at all levels. Thank you for providing our division with such an outstanding commander.” When I returned to the table, Tkachev and Gurov also gave me approving glances; it seemed they endorsed my impromptu appointment. As I politely returned their smiles, I inwardly groaned—it looked like my 1st Battalion wouldn’t last much longer before being wiped out. In the end, the German troops charging toward headquarters failed in their attempt. After encountering fierce resistance from the headquarters guard battalion, they were forced to leave behind a field of corpses and retreat in disgrace. Upon hearing this news, I secretly breathed a sigh of relief. Fortunately, the Germans did not know this was the location of the Army Group headquarters; otherwise, they would have concentrated their forces to launch a fierce assault here, and we would truly have faced a do-or-die situation. By evening, Krylov had returned to headquarters, and communication with the various units under the Army Group had almost returned to normal. It was only then that we received a relatively complete battle report. Holding a stack of the reports he had received, Krylov read aloud to us: “In the defense of the Tractor Plant and the ‘Barricade’ Factory, many workers’ detachments fought alongside military units until they ran out of ammunition and rations, and ultimately all fell on their own positions. Among these detachments composed of Stalingrad workers were participants in the defense of Tsaritsyn during the Civil War, and the majority were Communist Party members. This afternoon, the workers’ detachments defending the Tractor Plant and the ‘Barricade’ Factory engaged in fierce combat with advancing enemy advance units. Units from Yermolkin’s 112th Division and General Zolotarev’s 37th Division annihilated the enemy on the square in front of the factory and on the streets leading to it. Units from the 95th and 308th Divisions, along with armed factory workers, used the workshops of the “Barricade” factory as cover to deal a crushing blow to the enemy on the streets leading to the factory. During the battle, they received support from Colonel Belyaev’s 84th Tank Brigade and successfully repelled the enemy’s assault. Now, thousands of fascist corpses lie scattered across the square and streets, and dozens of burning and destroyed tanks block the main streets and thoroughfares. However, some scattered enemy units have managed to penetrate to the banks of the Volga, particularly the stretch between the factories. General Khogalsky and the artillery under his command have left the enemy no chance to gain a foothold there. With the support of our artillery fire from the east bank, our infantry launched a combined assault from both flanks, leaving the enemy corpses strewn across the ground as they fled in disarray.” After hearing this telegram, Gurov exclaimed excitedly, “Excellent! It looks like we can repel the enemy’s attack before nightfall and completely annihilate the enemy forces that have wedged themselves into our defensive positions.” ” Tikhov’s lips curled slightly upward, but just as he was about to speak, he was interrupted by Krylov. With a grave expression, Krylov said, “Comrade Military Commissar, the situation is far from as simple as you imagine. Relying on their powerful air assault capabilities and their superiority in tanks and infantry, have breached our defenses in certain sectors and consolidated their positions, resulting in our army group being cut in two. The enemy firmly controls the approximately 1. 5-kilometer stretch between the Tractor Plant and the ‘Barricade’ Factory. Enemy fire sweeps all the ravines leading to Zhenizhnaya Volodarka, and the liaison officers we’ve dispatched are unable to cross the ravines to reach the Tractor Plant. Although the Tractor Plant is clearly visible from our command post, we cannot see the fighting taking place inside the factory buildings. Fortunately, we have retained direct control of our artillery; at present, the only support we can provide to our soldiers is artillery fire.”