**Chapter 854: Aiding the Soviet Union (11)**

Rommel had long considered that the thrust of his 21st Panzer Corps would surely be noticed by the Red Army. Not only had Rommel realized this, but the 21st Corps staff and even the staff of Army Group South were well aware of it.

But far from feeling fear, Rommel took this as one of the cornerstones of his operation. Since the Red Army was well aware that the 21st Panzer Corps was striking deep alone, detached from the rest of the front, there was a high probability they would choose a tactic to crush this isolated unit in one blow.

Rommel was right; the Red Army had indeed adopted a heavy, pressuring offensive, only to fall into the counter-attack trap he had set. A rolling torrent of over 100 tanks and accompanying infantry attempted to overwhelm Rommel's forces. Lacking Soviet air reconnaissance or cover, the tanks serving as the main assault force were picked off one by one before the line of 88mm guns.

The Red Army fought heroically, to the point where their tanks were destroyed one after another. In an instant, the Soviet infantry following the tanks was exposed to the Germans, then mowed down like grass by 105mm howitzers. Rommel immediately ordered his panzers to counter-attack; modified Panzer IVs rumbled forward, their coaxial machine guns' tongues of fire harvesting Soviet lives like scythes.

The Red Army's offensive was thoroughly broken in less than half an hour. The German tanks then counter-attacked along the very tracks left by the Soviet armor; the Red Army could not have laid mines on the path their own tanks had taken. Those clear tread marks were unmistakable signposts to victory.

Among the infantry following tanks into the assault, the Germans were far luckier than the Soviets. They followed behind the panzers or simply climbed onto the hulls, being carried by the tanks into the Soviet lines.

Seeing the Wehrmacht utilize a decisive and clever counter-attack to breach the Soviet defenses, Rommel's secretary's eyes lit up. He asked, "General, shall we break through from here?"

Rommel also felt a strong urge to continue the offensive, but his intuition warned him against overextending. He chose to trust his gut and told his aide, "An overly courageous beast only becomes the hunter's assistant."

The 21st Panzer Corps Chief of Staff shared Rommel's view, so he didn't demand the counter-attacking force punch through the Soviet lines in one go, but instead required them to halt if they could not maintain contact with the following units.

Commanding the Soviet forces in the Samara region was Lieutenant General Rokossovsky. Although the attempt to ambush the Germans had failed miserably, he did not panic. He immediately adjusted his deployment, ordering his artillery to brave German air strikes and use shelling along with infantry resistance to create a gap between the German panzers and the infantry following them.

As the latest battle reports reached his headquarters, Rokossovsky's brow furrowed tighter and tighter. After a series of breakthroughs, the German panzer units realized their following infantry couldn't keep pace and actually halted their advance to pull back.

This move completely scuttled Rokossovsky's plan for a counter-charge. The general had intended to utilize the failing light of dusk to send strike teams to cut off the German tanks' retreat and destroy the isolated units under the cover of night.

The German panzers' decisive withdrawal not only eliminated their vulnerability but helped their infantry seize several heights before night fell, creating a situation where the Wehrmacht had pierced deep into the Soviet lines.

Rokossovsky was forced to order a night counter-attack. Having issued the command, he even felt a sense of guilt, for he knew the cost would be immense. But aside from a night offensive, the general had no other means to stabilize the front.

The loss of over 100 tanks and their accompanying infantry just moments ago had deprived him of high-combat-effectiveness units; without those losses, he could have held the heights tomorrow. Deprived of those elites, the units composed mostly of new recruits would find it very hard to hold the ground.

At 1:00 AM on October 9th, as a deep darkness blanketed the earth, the commissars of the Soviet assault units finished their final pre-attack motivation. Among the world's militaries today, only China and the USSR possessed over twenty years of development in the commissar system (Zheng Wei). But there were systemic differences between the two.

The Soviet system was more akin to the "supervising generals" (Jian Jun) of Chinese history—an independent unit. However, with the added power of the communist system, the Soviet commissars were ideologically driven; they not only provided spiritual motivation but also charged in the first wave, fulfilling their duty to boost morale by personal example.

In Chinese history, the supervising generals were viewed by the civilian bureaucracy as almost equivalent to the enemy precisely because most of them fulfilled their duties, preventing the officials from easily shirking responsibility. The Soviet system at this stage undoubtedly reached the highest standard of those historical supervisors.

Once they had finished inspiring their men, the Soviet commissars stood ready for battle. Just moments before the attack was to begin, the night sky suddenly turned bright. Rommel had ordered the Germans to launch flares, each illuminating nearly a square kilometer. The Soviet plan for a night counter-attack under the cover of darkness was temporarily thwarted.

Facing this change, the Soviet commissars did not hesitate; on the contrary, it ignited their battle passion. To many of them, the bright light of the flares dispelled the darkness and solved the visibility problem of night combat. These commissars had no intention of living to see the war's end; they were trained to complete their missions, and if their lives could help achieve success, they would not hesitate for a second.

Thus, from the German perspective, the Red Army seemed galvanized by the flares, leaping from the woods and trenches like moths to a flame as they charged the German-held heights.

The Wehrmacht had long prepared its defensive fire. Although the flares were not as effective as the sun, they illuminated the areas covered by interlocking fire. The Germans didn't even need to aim specifically; they only had to fire fiercely into the pre-determined kill zones according to their tactical layout.

Rommel did not love the defense; all his defensive moves were for the sake of a counter-attack. Learning the Soviets had launched a night raid, he immediately ordered his prepared mixed units of panzers and artillery to open fire. The dense shelling produced conspicuous smoke when illuminated by the flares. In the intervals between flares, the bright muzzle flashes appeared like a brilliant firework display.

In the Western European campaign, Rommel had used this tactic of concentrated fire to make the French hiding in forests believe they were facing the main German artillery force, prompting them to return fire. Rommel then used the exposure of enemy firing points to locate their heavy batteries, using panzer thrusts to destroy the core of their firepower in one go, before overrunning the French positions now deprived of heavy support.

Rommel succeeded again. The Red Army believed the German-held heights near the front housed their heavy guns and began concentrating their own artillery to relentlessly shell those locations.

The German tanks withdrew immediately after firing a salvo, while the artillery crews retreated into deep shelters. Although some unlucky souls were hit by Soviet fire, they were the minority. Meanwhile, every German observation post immediately reported the data on the observed Soviet batteries. Inside the 21st Panzer Corps headquarters, the positions of the Soviet heavy guns were rapidly calculated from this data.

Ten minutes later, the Soviet infantry suddenly saw bright lights appearing ahead. Under the glare, they couldn't help but squint. In that fleeting opportunity, the German armored assault units began strafing the Red Army with machine guns. By the time the heavily hit Soviets managed to take cover outside the direct line of fire, the panzer formations had already passed through their ranks and were driving toward the Soviet heavy battery positions. In short order, they breached two Soviet lines and closed in on the guns.

In the Red Army's understanding, German panzer crews would always turn aside when encountering minefields, so a belt of mines had been laid before the heavy batteries.

When the German tanks charged heedlessly into the minefield, the Soviets believed they would turn back after taking some losses. Then the Soviet artillery could strike the retreating panzers for even greater results.

But after several lead tanks were destroyed or slowed, the following panzers continued to charge as if unaware of the mines' power. Under the ghastly white light of one flare after another, the Soviet troops defending before the heavy guns saw that even when their tracks were blown off, the German tanks still struggled forward until the tracks fell away completely and the road wheels spun uselessly, only then coming to a halt dictated by the laws of physics.

The surviving crews of the disabled tanks didn't stop either; they leaped out with their weapons and followed the tanks still advancing through the minefield, joining the assault on the Soviet line.

Though shocked by the German ferocity, the Red Army did not falter but opened up with everything they had. For at the very front of the Soviet troops, the commissars were in a fierce exchange of fire with the Germans. The commissars told the men that Nazi Germany was an imperialist army, and that such armies lose their fighting spirit and flee once they suffer enough losses.

But the commissars' understanding of Nazi Germany was quite one-sided. While it was an imperialist state, its rise was built on a revolt against the shackles the Anglo-French imperialists had placed on it. In other words, the Nazi soldiers believed they were the oppressed, not the oppressors.

If the Soviet leadership had taken He Rui's advice and adopted a full defensive posture at the border, the Nazi troops might still have realized they were aggressors. But the CPSU believed an offensive posture would intimidate them. Instead, it led the Nazi soldiers who had fought in the West to see the Red Army's posture and believe that Germany was only launching a preemptive strike against an intended invasion.

While the Nazi army was indeed an imperialist one, to the frontline troops less than six months into the war, the invasion was a war of national defense, not one of aggression against the weak. At this moment, they believed only the total crushing of the Red Army could ensure Germany's safety.

For Germany, they did not fear death. Before Hitler took power, they had experienced a life that seemed worse than death to an industrial nation. Hitler was the one who led them to break that tragic fate; the lesson he taught the German people was simple: defeat the enemy and protect Germany to let the nation stand tall among the world's peoples.

Hitler's philosophy aligned perfectly with traditional German militarism. Under his leadership, Germany had defeated its centuries-old rival France and forced Britain to make peace. Now, if they defeated the Soviet threat, the Third Reich could begin its great future as a thousand-year empire.

Under this simple and austere belief, the German officers and men disregarded the loss of tanks and forced a path through the minefield, reaching the Red Army soldiers.

Facing the invaders at point-blank range, and with their machine gun nests mostly destroyed by German tanks at close quarters, the Soviet commissars—still convinced they were defending their homeland—drew their pistols and charged out of the trenches with a shout of "Ura!" Moments later, the soldiers of both armies were locked in a lethal melee.

Under the pallid light of the flares, even blood appeared a dull color. The combatants seemed like actors on a stage, fighting with a fierce yet ghostly intensity.

Even with all the crews of the destroyed tanks joining the assault, the Germans were too few. Facing wave after wave of counter-charging Red Army infantry, the German forces struggled to resist, holding on only with the few panzers that had cleared the minefield and the limited infantry they carried.

At 4:15 AM, the minefield was suddenly illuminated. Although Rommel hadn't expected the night battle to turn into a successful counter-attack, he had already made his decision. Half of the 21st Panzer Corps' trucks were concentrated to carry an infantry regiment through the minefield.

The trucks lined up in a single file, all their headlights blaring. The regimental commander, Lieutenant Colonel Weidell, stood straight on the third truck, his uniform neat. He wasn't on the first because his adjutant, Lieutenant Gauss, had insisted on taking the lead vehicle.

As the convoy advanced along the path cleared through the wrecks of the tanks, the first truck hit a mine while swerving around a panzer and was destroyed. The following trucks didn't pause but bypassed the wreckage and drove on.

Nearing the end of the minefield, the second truck, carrying the 2nd Battalion commander, Major Mask, also hit a mine and was turned into a torch.

Lieutenant Colonel Weidell finally reached the combat zone as the first surviving vehicle of the column. Waving his pistol, he shouted orders for the men to dismount and join the fight. Hardly had the order left his lips when a burst of machine-gun fire stitched several holes across his chest, killing him and two soldiers beside him instantly.

But by then, the Germans didn't need orders. Or rather, every man reaching the front only needed to jump out to join the fray. With this fresh force, the once-suppressed Germans resumed their offensive.

The surviving tanks finally had enough accompanying infantry; they continuously picked off Soviets attempting to sabotage the panzers, while the tanks—now unconcerned by swarms of infantry—used their main guns and coaxial machine guns to cut down Red Army troops at middle and long range.

By 4:53 AM, the German assault force finally broke into the midst of the retreating Soviet heavy artillery units. After a night of combat, all rationality had vanished from the battlefield; the soldiers fought almost entirely by muscle memory. Crazed German tank gunners forgot about friendly fire or ricochets, firing on Soviet guns at twenty meters. Tanks out of ammunition revved their engines and charged at full speed, crushing the Soviet gunners before ramming into the heavy guns, the momentum toppling the pieces.

The Red Army also lost all fear of death, swinging empty weapons, bayonets, entrenching tools, rifle butts, knives, helmets, or even their bare fists. Anything that could kill was used. Both sides fought like madmen; some German soldiers, after being mortally wounded, would grab the Soviet who struck them and roll together under the treads of an oncoming tank, their blood and flesh becoming indistinguishable. A Soviet commissar, run through the belly by a bayonet, pulled the pin on a grenade, his body and those of the Germans and Red Army soldiers around him shredded by the shrapnel.

Both sides believed they were defending their homeland and were filled with hatred for the enemy. Yet their blood ignored that hate, flowing and mixing across the crazed battlefield.

At 7:00 AM on October 9th, General Rommel found that the night battle had unexpectedly achieved the goal of breaking and splitting the Soviet line. Facing him, General Rokossovsky was forced to contract his lines, pulling his units back to the vicinity of Samara for defense.

Hardly had the order been executed when Rokossovsky received word: the Wehrmacht had begun a full-scale destruction of the Central Asian line of the Trans-Siberian Railway.