Six Il-2 aircraft conducted four rounds of attacks using rockets, aerial bombs, and machine guns successively. Despite minimal external interference, they failed to destroy the second Tiger tank of the German forces. As these two Tiger tanks escaped in a desperate manner into the woods, surrounded by anxious German soldiers watching, it seemed like they had witnessed a "miracle" unfold.
With a final burst of bullets sprayed into the woods, the Soviet "Black Death" finally turned away. The duration of the air raid, from start to finish, lasted just over ten minutes. However, Lynn, who had remained in place throughout, felt as though hours had passed. He gazed bewilderedly at the battlefield, where the village had been reduced to ruins. The zigzagging trenches and shattered earthworks lay in disarray, debris piled up in front of the defensive lines, corpses littered the area, and the anti-tank gun positions on the flanks and rear were in a sorry state. It was only after this intense battle that Lynn truly experienced the vicissitudes of war, his eyes reflecting a sense of world-weariness.
As the Soviet ground-attack planes departed, the German soldiers in the trenches and woods began to move again. Most rushed towards their injured comrades from the airstrikes, especially the medics wearing red cross armbands. Others, including armored troops, infantry, and medics, cautiously approached the two immobilized tanks. Tank number four seemed extensively damaged, with its tracks broken and idler wheels detached, making repair on the battlefield a daunting task, though fortunately, its crew had managed to escape earlier. The other tank, appearing relatively intact, had two infantrymen swiftly pulling an unconscious crew member from the open driver's hatch, while another figure in a black uniform climbed into the commander's cupola on top of the turret. Several infantrymen stood by the hatch. After about a minute, they collectively extracted a bloodied individual from the turret, followed shortly by another motionless figure. As more people gathered around the tanks, all five crew members were eventually carried out, with two additional armored soldiers in black uniforms entering through different hatches. Lynn faintly heard rumbling noises, though they never escalated into the familiar roar. A soldier in black uniform leaned halfway out of the turret hatch, waving and shouting loudly towards the direction of the woods.
The deep rumble of engines reappeared on the battlefield, as the Tiger that had narrowly escaped emerged from the woods. It trailed smoke from its rear, resembling a wounded beast panting heavily. Up close, Lynn could easily spot thirty-three clear bullet holes in its shattered magnetic coating, of various sizes and heights. The driver's viewing port was jammed shut by shrapnel, forcing the tank crew, wearing black berets, to open the hatch for visibility. Even the gunner's periscope had not escaped unscathed, its distorted shape suggesting a trip to the repair shop would be necessary for restoration. Additionally, the battle scars marred the interleaved road wheels, potentially posing mechanical risks to the already sophisticated and complex machine.
While waiting for the arrival of the "support Tiger," a soldier in black uniform skillfully removed the steel cables carried by the "disabled Tiger" and hooked one end onto the custom hook beneath the front of the "disabled Tiger" and the other end onto the towing hook at the rear of the "support Tiger." Amidst the heavy rumble of the 700 horsepower Maybach gasoline engine, the heavily damaged Tiger tank pulled its barely surviving companion slowly and laboriously. Even the sounds of the rotating road wheels and the friction of the tracks seemed unusually harsh. Despite the heart-wrenching sight, their movement remained relatively stable. After a few minutes, they crossed the soft muddy ground onto the nearest road. Following it through the village and heading north for about seven or eight kilometers, they entered a densely vegetated forest, and the straight road "disappeared" into the lush pine forest. It was presumed that the German depth defense line was not far behind.
Judging by the current speed of the two Tiger tanks, Lynn estimated that it would still take at least forty minutes for them to reach the forest. There was no guarantee that Soviet aircraft wouldn't strike again during this time, and the retreating Soviet armored units could launch a new round of attacks at any moment. Losing the Tiger tanks in the German defense line was like removing the pillars of a bridge. It might look like a bridge, but once stepped on, it would collapse. Continuing to defend here was not a wise choice.
"Hey, Lynn!"
Lynn turned around, realizing that it was his thinner companion calling his name, but he couldn't understand what he said afterward. Finally, seeing him raise the empty drum of bobosand(PPSh-41 submachine gun) ammunition, Lynn understood that he was asking for bullets. Considering he didn't need them at the moment, Lynn broke off a round drum from his nearby ** sand and tossed it to the companion, then gestured towards the magazine slot of his Mauser rifle. The thin SS soldier weighed the drum tossed by Lynn, seemingly satisfied with its quality. He then pulled out an unopened leather pouch from his backpack, delicately tore it open, kept a few rows of bullets for himself, and threw the rest, along with the leather pouch, to Lynn.
The silent transaction was completed, each side getting what they needed, and both seemed satisfied. Putting away the bullets, Lynn surveyed the surroundings. Aside from the two "Tigers" and the truck evacuating the severely wounded, the other German troops did not show any intention of leaving the defensive line. They were either reinforcing bunkers or repairing weapons. Some engineers carrying square boxes began digging trenches and laying mines among the wreckage of the vehicles in front of the position. It seemed that continuing to hold this position had become a foregone conclusion.
Looking at his belongings, Lynn's Mauser rifle was still usable, and the ammunition was relatively sufficient, except for the one missing hand grenade. Thinking about the scene of it blowing up the enemy soldiers, Lynn couldn't help but feel exhilarated. If only he had a few more. There were over a hundred Soviet soldiers' bodies scattered on the hillside across, along with their weapons and ammunition, but none of the German soldiers dared to venture out to collect them, probably fearing the heavy machine guns and snipers on the other side.
Some things were better left alone. Lynn adjusted his rifle, then pulled out the old drum and the scattered bullets from the Soviet canvas bag. The simple loading game wasn't difficult, and he quickly loaded over twenty rounds into the drum, then attached the drum to the ** sand, pulled the bolt to chamber a round, ready for any need.
With everything prepared, he looked up at the sky. Through the gaps in the branches filled with white snow, he could see the dazzling sun shining. It seemed that it was only noon now, and the Soviet air superiority would still be effective for the next half day. Just as this thought came to mind, he suddenly heard a faint rumbling, and his heart sank. He quickly turned to look at the two Tiger tanks. They were less than two kilometers away from leaving the village, perfectly positioned in the open. Meanwhile, a truck that left with them had already entered the woods.
"Oh no!" Lynn couldn't help but lament. As expected, someone on the defensive position quickly used the hand-cranked air raid siren to sound the air raid alarm, but its mournful sound couldn't suppress the thunderous roar. As it got closer and clearer, Lynn subconsciously looked up and caught a glimpse of a red star flashing by.
The Soviet fighter plane was flying so low that it made Lynn feel an urge to jab it with a bamboo pole.
The German soldiers around raised their rifles and fired, but the red stars continued to flash overhead, their wings blocking out the sun like dark clouds.
Picking up his Mauser rifle, Lynn hesitated to shoot. The number of Soviet fighter planes whistling past had surpassed the previous group of Il-2s. Could the Tiger tanks on their side escape this time?
The whistling Soviet fighter planes quickly answered Lynn's question with rockets. Like venomous arrows, they flew towards their targets, leaving a trail of white smoke in the air, and the intense explosion engulfed the two Tiger tanks in an instant.
This time, the four-barreled machine gun nest deployed on the edge of the woods finally shot down a Soviet fighter plane. Watching it fall with a trail of black smoke and explode into fragments, Lynn found no solace whatsoever.
Although the two Tiger tanks had already come to a halt, flames and black smoke billowed from their turrets and hulls. Yet, the Soviet pilots seemed unconvinced; some of them turned back and dropped aerial bombs. Confronted with the extremely feeble anti-aircraft firepower of the German forces, their bombing runs were as straightforward as a training exercise, with some missing the target but very few missing altogether.
After the intense explosions, the appearance of the two Tiger tanks was indistinguishable from the piles of scrap metal in front of the village. At this moment, the Soviet air fleet flying at ultra-low altitude redirected its firepower towards the German ground forces, relentlessly ravaging, trampling, and slaughtering with bombs and machine gun fire, showing no mercy.