The battlefield was nothing like a track field. Such old ways of thinking had long been discarded by Lynn. In the freezing Eastern Front, being able to run might not earn him a championship, but it could offer him and his comrades a chance to stay alive. Supported by his surprising resilience and physical strength, Lynn and his two comrades, helping each other, finally crossed into the boundary of the woods. Outside the woods, the Soviet artillery continued to ravage, but within the forest, it seemed like a sacred place from a fantasy movie, capable of protecting the weak from the onslaught of evil forces—at least until the ultimate darkness arrived.
Shrugging off the burden on his shoulders, Lynn leaned against a tree, panting heavily. Only now did he realize his back was soaked with sweat, and his pants were chillingly cold. In peacetime, prolonged exposure to such conditions would significantly increase the risk of arthritis, but Lynn had no time to care about his health now.
Once he caught his breath, the rescued soldier started mumbling to Lynn and the "Butcher." Though Lynn couldn't understand a word, he felt a flicker of annoyance: how could such a burly man sound so much like a woman? If he had known, he would have left him to fend for himself.
Despite his heroic act of saving lives, the "Butcher" maintained his usual stoic expression, shaking his head and saying a few words that made the burly soldier reluctantly pocket the cigarettes he offered. Glancing back towards the forest's edge, Lynn saw that the remaining German soldiers were dwindling. Many had perished on the retreat, but more were still alive. It was for this reason that the battlefield always needed someone to act as a "gatekeeper," to hold off the enemy like a rock, buying as much time and space as possible for their own forces.
Soon, the highest-ranking officer among them naturally assumed the role of temporary commander. The decision of this young lieutenant was simple yet brutal: the wounded would go first, while the rest would stay behind to fight a delaying action.
Lynn's minor arm injury wasn't enough to warrant retreating as a casualty, especially with the bloodied "Butcher" standing resolutely nearby. Looking around, most soldiers had suffered some degree of injury. They might not all be as determined as the "Butcher," with some showing signs of deep fear in their eyes, but they still chose to stay behind without hesitation.
Since it was to be a delaying action, the Soviet tanks and self-propelled guns naturally became the primary targets for the German rear-guard. Creating a path through the woods would require extra effort and time, so the road that cut through the forest was their best option. Lynn carefully observed the double-lane road, paved with asphalt and gravel. Dynamiting it directly would be difficult, so the best course of action was to fell the trees nearby and block the road. Despite the language barrier, he managed to convey this suggestion to the "Butcher" through gestures. Although puzzled by his subordinate's odd behavior, the "Butcher" understood his gestures and agreed with the proposal. Before he could even suggest it to the stubbled-faced lieutenant, the officer had already ordered soldiers to tie explosives and grenades to two large trees.
Seeing the officer's thoughts align with his own, Lynn couldn't muster any joy. He glanced to the south of the woods, where the advancing Soviet armored units had ceased their bombardment and were moving forward in an orderly fashion. The leading tanks were still three or four kilometers from the forest's edge. Lynn estimated that they had the time of a cigarette to reach the wooded area.
Under the guidance of the non-commissioned officers, most of the soldiers had found their positions for the delaying action. Unable to dig trenches in time, they used tree roots, stumps, and uneven terrain as cover, setting up a temporary defensive line roughly 500 meters from the forest edge. This position would effectively evade the Soviet artillery barrage while also attempting to block the Soviet infantry from advancing beyond the edge of the forest. The few "panzerfaust" and "tank hunters" were deployed behind the trees near the road, a configuration that seemed to be the result of experienced planning.
Lynn was about to find a fighting position near the "Butcher" when he suddenly saw the lieutenant preparing to detonate the explosives. Realizing something was wrong, he hurriedly intervened. However, besides "no," he couldn't express his opinion in other German words, so he resorted to gesturing frantically. The lieutenant, confused, mumbled a few words and gestured back, but with the Soviet tanks drawing nearer, he didn't have the patience to argue with Lynn. Instead, he turned away and issued orders to the soldiers responsible for detonating the explosives. Just as they were about to set them off, the "Butcher" approached, carrying his submachine gun. He spoke loudly to the lieutenant, gesturing emphatically with his fist. After some thought, the lieutenant looked at the "Butcher," then at Lynn, finally nodding before walking towards the soldiers in charge of detonating the explosives.
Seeing the "Butcher's" relieved expression, Lynn wasn't sure if he understood his intentions, but given their proximity moments ago, he should have seen his gestures. The mystery didn't last long. The lieutenant relayed the same orders to the soldiers in charge of detonating the explosives. They didn't hesitate to jump up, pull the pins on the grenades, and then quickly retreat in the opposite direction.
From Lynn's vantage point, the white smoke from the grenade fuses was particularly clear in the silent forest. Whether the Soviet tank crew didn't see it or didn't have time to react, the first T-34 rumbled past the large trees, followed closely by another tank bearing the number "240."