In the northwestern Soviet city of Ostrov, a convoy of 34 GAS AA trucks marched through the city from north to south, kicking up a cloud of dust and speeding south along the road.

In the cab of the third truck in the convoy, Sergeant Pyshkov was leaning back in the passenger seat, his eyes narrowed into slits, his mouth wide open, and he was sleeping soundly, while the driver, Maxim, held the steering wheel and stared intently at the road ahead, trying to keep a safe distance from the truck in front of him.

On the potholed road, the gas truck bumped non-stop, and the cab sounded from time to time with a clattering vibration.

"Where have we been?"

Sergeant Pyshkov's limp voice reached Maxim's ears.

"Just past Ostrov."

"For a maximum of an hour, you will see the Sinaya River, and after crossing the river for another three kilometers we will reach the village of Gelai, where we will take a lunch break and then turn around and head west. I'll sleep a little longer, and I'll open in the afternoon. ”

It was the first time for Maxim to run this transport route, and after listening to Pishkov, he had a rough impression of the rest of the trip.

"After the lunch break, how long will it take us to reach the 'General Secretary's Line'?" Maxim asked.

"After the lunch break, run for another three hours on that rotten road thinner than a sheep's intestine, and we will see our dear 'General Secretary'." Petshkov still said in his dreamy voice.

"But only if the Germans don't come and harass us." After adding a sentence, Pishkov tilted his head and fell asleep again.

Maxim rolled his eyes and swept the sky on both sides of the road. OK. It was a cloudless sunny day. There are no UFOs in the sky.

After about fifty minutes, Maxim saw a river barricade on the road ahead, which should be the one named Siniaa.

Crossing the bridge over the river and under the wheels of the fast-spinning cars, the convoy covered the remaining three kilometers in the blink of an eye to the small village of Grey.

One after the other, the Gass AA trucks were parked in an orderly manner on the threshing floor in the southwest corner of the village. Instantly aroused a group of children in the village to watch.

A platoon of infantry stationed in the village, after checking the identity of the convoy, moved to prepare lunch for the drivers of the convoy.

The drivers were not idle, they hurried to check the vehicles, they all knew that the next three hours of running on the country dirt road was the biggest test of the journey, and no one wanted to break down in the wilderness.

Maxim and Pyshkov, who had woken up, ran to the village well, fetched a bucket full of clear water, first filling their own military kettle. Then the truck's water tank was filled.

After all this, the drivers of the convoy sat in groups around the round tables placed in the open air. Have a not-so-sumptuous lunch.

After lunch, the captain of the convoy, Captain Maslennikov, announced a half-hour break and set off on time at one o'clock.

Maxim and Pishkov returned to the cab of the truck, lit a cigarette each, and quietly enjoyed the good time of "a cigarette after dinner, a race against the living immortals".

"The Germans have already hit the General Secretary's line, which means that Lithuania, Latvia and Estonia are all lost, and the war is not going well, do you think the General Secretary's line of defense can stop the Germans?" Maxim asked.

"When you see that line of defense, you won't ask such boring questions." Pyshkov's tone was confident.

"Well, in another three hours, I'm going to take a closer look at what our general secretary's line of defense really looks like?" Maxim said, taking a sharp puff of his cigarette, then pushed the door open and jumped out of the cab.

As soon as he walked to the front of the car, Maxim was confronted by Peshkov.

"I'm going to the bathroom, what are you doing with me?"

"I have a stomachache and I have to go to the toilet too. It's almost time to go, we have to hurry, the toilet is a bit far from here. Pyshkov said as he turned around and walked towards the north of the village.

In a communal toilet in the north of the village of Gelai, the two of them "stepped on both sides of the Yellow River with secret documents in their hands" and completed their respective combat missions after a series of hard fights "with machine gun fire in front and artillery fire in the back."

Leaving the toilet, the two hurried to the threshing floor, not wanting to be reprimanded by the "very unapproachable" comrade captain for being late.

As soon as they walked more than ten meters away, the two of them stopped in unison and looked in horror at the south of the village.

"Da Da Da ・・・・・・"

"Boom ・・・・・・"

"Tom ・・・・・・"

The sound of gunfire of all kinds came and went, and wave after wave irritated their fragile nerves.

"Who's firing? Are there Germans here? Maxim said and looked up at the sky, which was still so blue and empty, without any shadow of an airplane.

"It's the army of the Germans, how did they get here?" Pyshkov shouted in panic.

At this time, the streets and alleys of the village were full of people fleeing in all directions.

The splitter grabbed a garrison private who ran past him, and Pyshkov asked: "What's the matter?" Who's fighting? ”

The private slashed off Pyshkov's hand and shouted: "The German tank, south of the village, run for your life." ”

After saying that, the private turned around and galloped north without looking back.

"Tank・・・・・・ run." Pyshkov shouted and turned around and ran north, and Maxim was not slow to react, following closely behind Pyshkov two paces away.

The peculiar sound of the "day・・・・・・ day・・・・・・ mortar shells breaking through the sky sounded, and four or five clouds of gray-white gunsmoke burst out of the village of Gelai.

As the two of them passed by the public toilet where they had just fought, a violent explosion suddenly sounded in their ears.

In the light of the fire and the smoke of gunfire, the improvised toilet made of wooden planks was torn apart, and wood chips and steel nails were flying in all directions.

A large number of stinking yellow gooey objects followed, crackling and splattering on the two of them, painting their grass-green uniforms with a layer of gold.

Fleeing for their lives was a matter of urgency, and the two of them only ran. Personal hygiene is not taken care of.

When I ran past the front gate of a house in the north of the village. Go through the gap in the gate. Out of the corner of his eye, Pyshkov suddenly caught a glimpse of something in the courtyard.

Well, it was ・・・・・・ Pyshkov turned around and rushed into the compound, but Maxim still ran with his head down.

Maxim ran out of about a hundred meters when a shadow flashed from the right side of his body and stopped in front of him.

"Get in the car." Pyshkov waved his hand and shouted at Maxim.

After seeing that it was a bicycle under Pyshkov's crotch, without the slightest hesitation, Maxim raised his leg and straddled the back seat of the bicycle.

A moment later, the shadows of the two of them flew away. Only the village of Gelai, which was under heavy artillery fire, remained.

The two of them took turns to ride in relays, lest they not be far enough away from the village of Gelai, and rode for nearly half an hour before stopping.

Standing in the middle of the road, the two stopped a convoy of trucks heading south, gasped for breath, and made a comparison to explain the presence of German military intelligence in the southern village of Gelley, and then the convoy turned around and turned towards the city of Ostrov.

With this turn, there were two more stinking fugitives in the convoy. And the bike that made a lot of work.

"Didn't you say that the 'General Secretary Line' could hold off the Germans? Where did those Germans from the village of Glley come from? Maxim couldn't help but ask.

"How do I know?" Pyshkov said angrily.

"Even the General Secretary can't stop the Germans, what should we do next?" Maxim lamented.

About fifty minutes later. A radio wave from the city of Ostrov flew into the headquarters of the Soviet North-Western Front.

When the commander of the North-Western Front, Colonel-General Kuznetsov, saw the telegram, he immediately rushed to the map, first to the city of Ostrov, and then to the south of the city of Glai.

"The night before yesterday evening it was the town of Latse, this morning it was Grabaini, and the village of Gelai has just been occupied." Kuznetsov drew three place names on the map from south to north.

"Next should be Ostrov, then Pskov. Damn, those three missing Panzer Corps of Army Group Center must have gone north, and just behind us, the Stalin line had already been bypassed by them, and the Eleventh Army ・・・・・・"

The thought of the danger facing the 11th Army made Admiral Kuznetsov shudder.

The Stalin Line, the official name of the "General Secretary's Line" in Pishkov's mouth, was built in 1928.

The defense line was 1,200 kilometers long and stretched from the Karelian Isthmus in the north of the Soviet Union to the Black Sea coast in the south.

It consists of 23 large fortified areas, including more than 4,000 permanent fire points, all made of reinforced concrete and special materials.

After the outbreak of the war, the left flank of the Northwest Front was exposed because the defense line of the Western Front was broken through by the Germans.

At the same time, the 4th Panzer Army of Army Group North of Germany passed through the center of the defense line of the North-Western Front, which was also the junction of the Eighth Army and the Eleventh Army, and attacked the hinterland of the Soviet Union, and Kuznetsov had to order the entire North-Western Front to retreat.

After careful deployment and excellent command, the two armies of the Northwestern Front retreated in an orderly and well-organized manner, abandoning the three Baltic states one after another, and retreating straight to the retreating destination, the Stalin Line.

Kuznetsov's plan was to use the reinforcements provided by the Stalin line and the rear to kill and wound a number of German troops in a defensive battle and then take advantage of the situation to counterattack.

However, no sooner had he retreated to the Stalin line than General Kuznetsov received a warning from Moscow.

The whereabouts of the three Panzer Corps of Army Group Center were unknown, and the Supreme Command ordered the Northwest Front to keep a close eye on the situation in the central theater of operations in order to prevent the Germans from moving north.

As soon as I received this telegram full of warnings, the bad news came one after another.

Behind the Stalin Line, towns were attacked and occupied by unknown German troops, and after Kuznetsov and his staff marked the location of those towns on the map, they found that the order in which these towns were lost was from south to north, and it was obvious that a German army from the central front had detoured to the rear of the 11th Army, and the plan to use the Stalin Line to fight the Germans was completely ruined.

Thinking of that belated telegram, Admiral Kuznetsov was filled with anger at the Supreme Command, why didn't you say it earlier.

Filled with rage, Kuznetsov stared at the map and pondered what to do.

A voice sounded behind him.

"Comrade Commander, the Supreme Command has an urgent telegram."

Admiral Kuznetsov hurriedly read the telegram, the content of which was very simple, and it was a supplement to the previous one: after investigation, the whereabouts of the 1st Panzer Army under the German Army Group Center are unknown, and your department must closely monitor the movements of the German troops in this department.

"The whereabouts of the son of a bitch are unknown, they are right behind us, right behind the Stalinist lines, why did you inform me at this time? Why didn't you *** say it earlier? ”

After reading the telegram, Kuznetsov couldn't help but scold.

In the command headquarters, all the staff officers around General Kuznetsov, regardless of distance or distance, stopped what they were doing and looked at Kuznetsov with a look of consternation.

This general, who is known for his mild-tempered temper, actually burst into foul language! Who provoked him? (To be continued.) )