Episode 23: Rania's Ex-Lover

  This was a battle of unprecedented severity. In order to capture Sevastopol, the German army had to destroy fortifications that relied on the city, with heavy artillery at the top and extending deep underground, equipped with power plants, water pipes, field hospitals, arsenals, grain warehouses, etc.

  Between 12:00 on January 8, 1942 and 05:00 on January 10, German forces fired a total of 33,210 artillery shells, weighing around 2,550 tons, including heavy-caliber shells from six Karl howitzers.

  The northernmost point of the German offensive was Fort Gorky-1, which controlled the natural passage to Sevastopol - the Belbek Valley. The 132nd Division of the 54th Army was ordered to attack the valley, and the German vanguard battalion cautiously entered the valley, where it came under heavy fire from the high ground on both sides, and Soviet troops also detonated electrically controlled mines. After leaving behind hundreds of corpses, the Germans retreated in disarray.

  The German heavy artillery poured tons of shells into the valley on both sides, and after the bombardment, Stuka planes roared in to bomb in relays. The sappers charged into the smoke-filled sky, using explosive packs, landmines, and dynamite to destroy bunkers and strongpoints. After spending a whole morning opening up a path, under the cover of several tanks, large numbers of German infantry followed the path opened by the sappers, crossed over the Belaya Berezka valley, and rushed to the side of Fort Golovin No. 1.

  Sappers moved out again, their belts and boots stuffed with grenades, some carrying flame throwers, others shouldering wooden rods with explosive packs tied to the ends. Hundreds of sappers swarmed across the valley like a beehive knocked to the ground, rushing to their respective targets, stuffing grenades into low-lying embrasures and using wooden rods to push explosives into high ones.

  The infantrymen covered the sappers carrying explosives with all their might. Some Soviet soldiers emerged from their shelters, throwing hand grenades or firing a few shots before being shot down. Soon after, the Soviet troops jumped out of their shelters and engaged in close combat with the charging sappers. The infantry took advantage of the situation and launched a fierce attack, with more and more people joining the bloody mudslide rolling down the steep slope.

  Ten kilometers away from the meat grinder battlefield, the German commander-in-chief watched the battle in a well-camouflaged bunker. After interrogating the newly captured Soviet prisoners, R?nne received a very valuable clue: this morning, the 95th Infantry Division of the Soviet Army handed over its defensive mission to the 7th Brigade of the Soviet Navy.

  "It's obvious that the 95th Infantry Division is reassembling." Rania concluded without a doubt.

  The commander's expression was more delighted than shocked, and he said proudly to Rania and the deputy officers: "Now we can attack them."

  Manstein, however, had other ideas. He wanted to capture the city as quickly as possible and avoid a prolonged battle. At present, the Soviet army's counterattack momentum is strong, and the commander of the Southern Army Group has asked several times to recall the 49th Mountain Army and the 3rd Motorized Army, but only because the Führer personally took command did he not force them back. But if the war drags on, it will be difficult to guarantee that one day a single order will summon them back.

  "He picked up the phone: 'Connect me with General Mackensen of the 3rd Cavalry Division.'"

  "What's going on?" Li De hastily asked.

  "General, the 54th Army is in trouble. Please send your 13th Division to reinforce us. Repeat..."

  He hung up the phone, took off his hat and wiped the sweat from his head. He calculated the time for the leader: "The 13th Division is ready to depart, estimated to arrive here in an hour, then work with the 132nd Division to withstand the Russian counterattack. Hopefully the enemy will not make any rash moves within this hour."

  The leader's expression had changed completely: delight was replaced by shock. "What are you trying to do?" he asked, somewhat irritated.

  "The Soviet army is launching a counterattack. I have to think of a way to hold on?" Manstein replied, muttering in his heart: What's wrong with the Führer? Can't even see such a simple question?

  "Stop the troop movement!" Li De categorically vetoed the general's opinion: "I'd love it if the Russians launch a counterattack. For the past two days, I've been thinking of ways to lure them out of their reinforced concrete fortifications and annihilate them in the open fields. But you're adopting a head-on approach, increasing personnel and weapon losses. This is a inferior strategy, unacceptable."

  Manstein was obstinate, and being openly doubted by the Führer in front of others made him lose face. To be honest, professional soldiers sometimes become too mired in so-called experience, lacking the broad vision and flexibility of politicians, and forgetting that they are facing the leader of the Third Reich.

  Everyone watched in embarrassment as the commander-in-chief and the general had a heated argument. Half an hour passed, and the leader finally lost his patience, stamping his foot and shouting: "We must lure the enemy out of their positions, this is an order." Manstein also showed no weakness: "You are daydreaming, you can only do one thing here: interfere with my command."

  Suddenly, everything fell silent. The operator's furious typing on the telegraph keys was heard. The chief of staff looked helplessly at the two angry roosters and shouted into the phone in a bad tone: "I can't answer your question now, continue to stay where you are. General, the 13th Division has asked about their deployment for the fifth time."

  "Let them take the offensive attitude." Manstein didn't even turn his head.

  "No, tell them to select an ambush site as soon as possible." The commander-in-chief swept his hand across the map. The chief of staff hung up the phone with a look of despair.

  The Commander-in-Chief ordered the Chief of Staff to withdraw immediately, but the Chief of Staff hesitated and looked at Manstein. Liddell said with a snort: "What's this? The battlefield commander doesn't listen to me, and even a small chief of staff dares to disobey orders?"

  Manstein snorted: "So what if I lose my job? What's the big deal?"

  At this critical moment, Brauchitsch spoke up: "This is a blatant disobedience. If you continue to disobey orders, I can immediately convene a meeting of the Politburo, expel your military status, and according to the Imperial Organization Law..." The rest of the words were unnecessary, Manstein was finally subdued, walking heavily towards the phone, issuing corresponding orders in accordance with the Führer's intentions, and perfecting them from a military perspective. Even details that Liddell hadn't thought of were arranged properly by him. Liddell greatly appreciated his excellent professional quality.

  The fierce battle was still going on in the front, and some pillboxes fell into the hands of the German army. The defenders at the forefront retreated in an orderly manner, making Li De more convinced that the enemy was playing a trick of luring him in. He gritted his teeth and ordered the 25th Armored Division to be deployed as well, forming a pincer movement with the 13th Division to attack the enemy who had fallen into the trap.

  "Come in!" A Soviet military officer with a bloody face and a dirty bandage on his head was pushed in, the German escort officer explained that he insisted on seeing the commander.

  The captive was a deputy company commander, who said that if they agreed not to shoot him, he would tell them everything he knew. From his mouth, Renny learned that Soviet General Petrov was wandering around the front line and had also tested the liaison signals between the Soviet Black Sea Fleet and the 95th Infantry Division of the Soviet Army, which meant that a Soviet counterattack was imminent.

  Manstein suspected it was a trap, but the Führer shook his head: "You also saw that they didn't have any rope for an ambush, only steel and concrete."

  During the insurance period, Rania was tested again. She suddenly pulled out a pistol: "Which part are you from? Who let you report false news to us? Speak quickly." After finishing, she heavily slapped the gun on the table.

  The captive remained calm: "I've already said it several times, Lieutenant Junior Grade of the 30th Coastal Defense Artillery Battalion of the Soviet Army. Your accent doesn't sound German, does it? Your Walther PPK is nice, but not as durable as my TT-33 pistol."

  As Schumann came over, he pointed to the sky and earth, swearing: "Commander, if the great... uh, the Workers' and Peasants' Red Army doesn't counterattack within two hours, you can shoot me."

  His hand, outstretched to the sky, froze as he stared at the "boss" taking a leather coat from the clothes rack and putting it on a real boss with a small mustache. This discovery shocked him extremely - the person in front of him was actually Hitler, the head of German fascism. He shouted recklessly: "Please believe me, fascist leader - no, German leader, I'm telling the truth, Moskalev told me personally."

  "Press on." Rania shouted, walking to the coat rack by the door, putting on her overcoat, wrapping a thick scarf around her neck, and thought for a moment before asking the prisoner who was about to leave: "That Moskalev."

  "Major Andrei Lyudmila Moskalyov." A long string of names floated behind the captive.

  Rania stood stiffly at the door, letting others push and shove her. The president pushed her strangely: "What's wrong? Are you uncomfortable?"

  "It's him, no doubt about it. The world is so small." Rania exclaimed in her heart.

  Her eyes conjured up his appearance: a face with carved and distinct features, a head of dense brown hair curled up, a pair of sword-like eyebrows under which were a pair of slender peach blossom eyes filled with sentimentality, a high nose, and thick and thin red lips that often rippled with dazzling smiles.

  She remembered the seaside in Riga, when the sun was setting, the sky was burning with orange-red sunset glow. The sea also turned red under this light. Every time a wave rose up, the reflected light on the wave crest was bright red, just disappeared, and the next one flashed and came over.

  When the sunset disappeared, the lights of Riga City lit up one after another. The light from the port lighthouse was reflected in the dark blue sea, like a string of flowing pearls.

  When the night falls, the bright moon of Mid-Autumn Festival rises slowly. In the distant sky, a large and bright Chang'e star appears, like a shining lantern hanging in the air. When the night is deep and people are quiet, they hold each other tightly, becoming one. The bright moon bears witness, the waves make a vow, swearing to be together forever, never to part.

  Rania's eyes conjured up the scene of her father's tragic death: in September 1940, on Albert Street in Riga, amidst the heart-stopping and mixed sounds of gunfire and shell casings hitting the ground, her father fell into a pool of blood. He had not resisted the Soviet army nor violated curfew orders; his only crime was being a professor - a professor with a bourgeois worldview.

  After her father's death, the mother and daughter fell into difficulties. He took care of them while serving as a company-level political instructor in the occupation army in Riga and persuaded his superiors to re-enlist her in the Soviet Army.

  Rania calmed down, for a moment she felt like Donya, and Moskalyov was undoubtedly Pavel, Pavel Kotchagin. They were just two rails that accompanied each other, attracted to each other but forever parallel. And fate brought her to Hitler's side, although only as a lover, he was also very fond of her, cherishing her, more importantly: he was the Führer.

  "What's wrong with you? Have you gone mad?" She was pulled away by the leader, refusing to sit in the armored vehicle, and silently climbed into the truck's compartment. The cold wind blew against her face, but her mind became increasingly chaotic.

  The truck left the sound of gunfire and screams behind. A noisy crowd approached, a group of German soldiers escorting dozens of Soviet prisoners with gray heads, dirty faces, and tattered clothes. She futilely and absurdly examined each prisoner's face, trying to find that familiar and shocking figure.