Tanks, infantry, swarms, like ant colonies, shuttled through the streets of Pustoshka.

In the blink of an eye, the "ant colony" spread to the banks of the Agron River and launched a decisive charge.

Completely covered by Soviet artillery fire, when the Soviet infantry rushed to the river, the German fire points on the west bank of the Agron River were less than half of the fire points, and the fire intensity was not enough to suppress the Soviet troops on the opposite bank.

Without hesitation, the Soviet infantry slipped down the riverbank, jumped waist-deep into the water, and rushed to the west bank of the Agron River.

Behind them, clusters of tanks stopped on the banks of the river, shaking their turrets and firing at the exposed German firing points on the west bank of the Agron River.

In the dark of night, the fire emitted by the German machine gun artillery is the best target designation, guiding the Soviet tank to point the muzzle at the target.

The 45mm and 76.2mm tank guns, as well as the more ferocious 152mm guns on the KV-2 heavy tanks, poured shells on the other side of the Agron River without stopping, using direct aim to accurately smash shells into the German firing points.

Taking advantage of the opportunity when the German fire was suppressed, the Soviet infantry rushed across the Agron River, which was only 20 meters wide, and the steep slope on the west bank was full of Soviet infantry who had successfully crossed the river.

Seeing that the infantry successfully crossed the river with a single charge, some of the officers who remained on the east bank of the Agron River drew their flare guns and pointed them at the sky according to the plan.

In the north, south, and north directions of Pustoshka City, three green flares rushed into the sky.

Moments later, on the west bank of the Agron River, the shelling of German positions suddenly stopped. However, less than a minute later. Heavy and ferocious artillery fire descended again. It's just that the landing point of the shells turned to the depths of the city.

"Go up, go up, don't stop here." At the foot of the steep slope on the west bank of the Agron River, the officers, seeing that the artillery fire had extended deep into the German position, shouted loudly and urged their men to rush up the slope.

The black-pressed infantry swayed, rushed up the slope, and plunged headlong into the German positions on the west bank.

After perceiving the extension of Soviet artillery fire in depth. More German soldiers rushed out of the basement and returned to unrecognizable firepower, bravely holding back the Soviet infantry that had already rushed in front of them, and fierce street fighting broke out.

Seeing that the infantry had successfully crossed the river, on the banks of the Agron River, two shallows where water could be crossed, a KV-1 tank each took the lead and began to force the crossing of the Agron River to support the infantry in the street fighting.

In addition to the two shoals, there are three other sites. The Soviet sappers who remained on the east bank of the river gathered around the tank and quickly carried sandbags from the tank's body. Throw it into the river.

In the streets and alleys behind them, a convoy of Gas's trucks also rushed through the city, delivering truckloads of sandbags that had already been prepared.

With the orderly cooperation of the sappers, the bridge of three sandbags quickly extended to the west bank of the Agron River at a flying speed.

Just as the Soviet war machine was running at a rapid pace, frantically inflicting rounds of heavy attacks on German positions, the artillery of the Imperial Division stuffed large-caliber shells into the chambers of the guns in the dense jungle west of Pustoshka, despite the bites of mosquitoes all around them.

Four artillery battalions scattered at four assembly points opened fire one after the other, and the air jets from the muzzles formed a hurricane.

The 105-mm and 150-mm grenades burst out of the forest, crossed the city, and flew over the heads of the German infantry and panzers in the blink of an eye, swirling and landing on the east bank of the Agron River.

In an instant, the earth trembled, flames and smoke covered the banks of the Soviet-controlled river, countless stumps and severed arms flew into the sky, and the seemingly powerful tank was not spared, seriously injured by the shells falling nearby.

In addition, four tanks were attacked by artillery shells, and their ammunition was detonated on the spot, and they were restored to a state of parts under the powerful power of the ammunition detonation.

Flying shrapnel and broken tank parts mercilessly cut bloody wounds into the surrounding Soviet infantry, the ground was covered with corpses and wounded, and the mournful cries for help filled the night sky, like a wolf howl.

On the west bank of the Agron River, an SDKFZ251 armored vehicle turned two intersections and plunged straight into a residential area about two blocks from the river.

The residential area has changed beyond recognition by this time, and the shelling of the past few days has already turned it into a hell on earth.

Looking up at the city to the west, the Soviet artillery fire had extended there, and it was a safe area for the time being.

Pulling out the whistle, Captain Nobel blew a shrill beep, and soon, in several alleys around the perimeter, seven armored vehicles were drilled.

Each armored vehicle has a rocket launcher attached to its body, and all seven armored vehicles are "land stuka".

There were only seven, one missing, and he didn't care to ask about the whereabouts of the missing "Land Stuka", so Captain Nobel commanded the seven "Land Stuka" around him to line up in two rows according to the set station.

When the gunners skillfully and quickly adjusted the shooting angle of the rocket launcher, Captain Nobel couldn't wait to wave his palm and make a slashing motion fiercely.

"Fire."

With a loud cry from Captain Nobel, a mournful hiss rang out in the clearing, like the mournful scream of a Stuka dive bomber.

Kicking up choking smoke and dust, dragging orange-yellow tail flames, thirty-five 280-mm rockets and seven 320-mm incendiary bombs crossed the Agron River and smashed almost vertically on the heads of Soviet infantry.

Every time a rocket landed, a shock wave erupted that was almost visible to the naked eye.

Wherever the ring-shaped shockwave passed, the flesh and steel of human beings and guns flew with it, then disintegrated in the air, or were thrown out and slammed into the walls of buildings.

At the point where the seven 320mm incendiary bombs landed, the shock wave and flames set off a firestorm, and the charred corpses and the soldiers covered in flames rolling and wailing on the ground pushed the tragic battlefield to purgatory.

On the east bank of the Agron River, the momentum of the Soviet army's advance was curbed, the arrogance was suppressed, the frantic bridge-building movement was stopped, and a half-built sandbag bridge was hit by artillery fire. Sandbags flew into the air. All the results of this work have come to naught.

The middle of the Agron front. On the Soviet-controlled east bank, Captain Waski's mood was as violent as the artillery fire on the battlefield, and his whole person was like a moving powder magazine, which could be detonated at any time.

Hiding in a roofless house with only a few broken walls, I watched the burning KV-1 tank about fifty meters ahead, and the corpses scattered around the tank. Smelling the pungent smell of gasoline in the air, and the uncomfortable smell of roasted meat, Captain Wasky felt like his head was going to blow up.

What's going on here? Why are there Germans here? Who can tell themselves why this is?

Remembering the hellish scene just now, Captain Wasky shuddered.

He led the remaining thirty soldiers of the company, followed behind this KV-1 tank, and like other friendly troops, he rushed to the river bank in great stride.

Rush through the street for just a few hundred meters, and then rush through the last fifty meters to reach the riverbank. An unexpected scene happened.

In the two-story house on the right side of the street, several muzzles suddenly protruded from the windows on the second floor. In the dim light, no one noticed, including Captain Waski, until a raindrop of bullets fell on the charging crowd.

In the face of the sudden fire, two columns lined up, and the Soviet soldiers crowded into the streets were swept to the ground in pieces, and corpses and blood covered the streets.

Before the surviving soldiers could recover from the onslaught, a flash of fire flashed from a dilapidated building on the left side of the street.

However, in the blink of an eye, this flame turned into a fire of purgatory, enveloping the KV-1 tank at the front of the line.

The scorching and deadly flames burned the KV-1 tank for half a minute, until all the tankers could not stand it anymore and burst out of the tank with flames all over their bodies, and then swept back and forth through the infantry group behind the tank.

The living and the dead, or the wounded lying on the ground wailing, were all consumed by the merciless flames.

If it weren't for the guards around him who pushed Captain Wasky into the rubble of the building, Captain Wasky would have been part of the army of the undead.

Recalling the scene when the guards were lying on the ground and howling with flames all over their bodies less than two meters away from him, Captain Wasky clenched his fists.

Looking at the corpse on the ground, which was still emitting black smoke and smelling of burning, Captain Waski's eyes couldn't help but sour.

Gritting his teeth, holding back the tears welling up in the corners of his eyes, and glancing viciously at the two-story building that had opened fire first, Captain Waski howled hoarsely, "Kill these scoundrels, they all deserve to hell." ”

Almost at the same time, the same shout was voiced, none other than the battalion commander Pinkovsky.

Three buildings, which almost blocked the way of the entire battalion, suddenly and violently fire, fell on the unsuspecting infantry, not only the company commanded by Captain Waski, but the whole battalion was almost killed by one hundred and fifty men.

After a series of battles, one hundred and fifty people were almost half of the combat strength of the Pinkovsky battalion.

Suffering such an unexpectedly heavy casualty, Pinkovsky, like Captain Waski, almost fainted in anger and rushed to tear the Germans who fell from the sky to shreds.

Captain Waski and Pingkovsky's shouts were more than just shouting, as an even more powerful KV-2 tank slowly drove in along the street they had walked on, and the huge turret like a public toilet slowly turned to the right, pointing to the intact two-story building on the right side of the street.

In the window of the building, in front of the KV-2 on the second floor, a flash of fire erupted, and an iron-fisted rocket flew out, hitting the KV-2's cannon shield.

Two more rockets flew out, one hit the side armor of the KV-2, sending a spark out and being ejected, and the other failed to inflict a fatal blow on the tank.

On the KV-2 tank, a puff of smoke erupted from the muzzle of a 152-mm tank gun, and almost the entire street trembled under the sound of heavy artillery.

In the explosion, the side of the building facing the KV-2 tank collapsed instantly, and the bricks on the walls, roof tiles, furniture, and the Germans hiding in the room fell to the ground, buried in dust and smoke.

On the second floor, on the room facing the riverbank, Captain Nietzsche was anxiously observing the battle in the direction of the riverbank.

On the riverside, some of the infantry fighting in the houses that did not enter set up machine guns on the river bank and fired fiercely on the flanks at the Soviet infantry crossing the river.

On the empty, unsheltered river, the Soviet infantry was swept to the ground one by one like straw harvested by a sickle, and the river was filled with corpses, almost clogging the river.

"Okay, just do it, even if we all die in battle, we must buy enough time for our comrades behind us." Captain Nietzsche looked at the tragic situation of the Soviet troops on the river and said excitedly.

Retracting his gaze, Captain Nietzsche turned around and was about to look on the other side, blocking the progress of the battle as the Soviets approached the river.

As soon as he reached the door of the room, Captain Nietzsche heard a loud noise in front of him, endless smoke and air waves rushed towards his face, and his tall body flew out uncontrollably, and slammed into the wall with a few steps back.

Spat out a few mouthfuls of blood, Captain Nietzsche slipped limply on the floor.

"Die, pig." Captain Waski shook his fists and shouted at the half-blown building.

"Follow me, rush up and kill them." Seeing that the tank was aiming its guns at another building, Captain Waski immediately summoned a few surviving men and led the charge towards the first destroyed building.

Seven or eight surviving soldiers of the Waski Company followed him closely.

Rushing through the corpse-strewn streets to the rubble, Captain Waski was confronted with a dusty and blood-stained figure crawling on the ground.

By the light of the flares, Captain Waski recognized it as a German soldier, rushed forward, and kicked the German soldier in the ribs.

The German soldier let out a groan of pain, and Captain Waski, excited to appreciate the pain from the enemy, put his right foot on the German soldier's chest, and put the Bobosha submachine gun in his right hand against the German soldier's head, and pulled the trigger fiercely.

Seeing the enemy's head smashed into a honeycomb, Captain Waski's mood was unprecedentedly relieved.

By this time, his men had cleared the two remaining German wounded on the first floor and regrouped to his side.

Walking to the top of the stairs and looking up at the second floor, Captain Waski saw that the upper part of the stairs had been shattered by the previous shelling, and it was impossible to go up to the second floor at all.

After throwing two grenades into the remnants of the second floor along the holes in the shells, Captain Waski spat fiercely at the ruins of the building and angrily left with his men.

Amid the explosion of a grenade in the next room, on the floor, Captain Nietzsche moved the index finger of his right hand, and then again, followed by his entire right arm.

Captain Nietzsche struggled to his feet, looked around, and looked out of the window, realizing that the building was surrounded by enemies on all sides.

Clutching his aching forehead, Captain Nietzsche pondered anxiously about his precarious situation.

After a moment, his gaze fell on the three Soviet corpses in the room.

"DreamWorks." Captain Nietzsche softly pronounced a noun out of his mouth.

Standing up and walking over to the three corpses, Captain Nietzsche took off his military uniform from the corpses with his hands ・・・・・ (to be continued.) )