Chapter 166

January 20, 1941

Central Poland, near Siedlce - Contested Area

“Damn it, those bastards learned a good lesson from us!”

General of the Panzer Troops Oswald Lutz spat out a curse.

Using anti-aircraft guns as anti-tank guns in defensive positions—the experience of having the Soviet Army use the very tactic started by the Condor Legion, which had become a core doctrine of German defensive warfare, was truly terrible.

Not only the Panzer IV (Early Model) with its weak armor, but even the new model Panzer IV with its sloped armor would not survive a direct hit from an over-8cm anti-aircraft gun.

He hadn't launched the attack thinking it would be easy, but Lutz had suffered unexpectedly significant damage against the defense line established by Líster, getting tied down for a day.

It was a good thing he coordinated with the infantry and received air support; it was obvious what horrific losses he would have suffered if he had underestimated them and just pushed the tanks forward.

It was because a large-scale enemy armored unit was approaching.

-Lutz Armored Group, this is Headquarters.

According to a report from the Luftwaffe, an enemy armored unit composed of numerous T-34s is expected to arrive within three hours.

Hearing the voice of Army Group Centre's Chief of Staff, Hans Krebs, over the radio, Lutz let out a small sigh.

“The reserves?”

-They will arrive within five hours.

“Thankfully, they'll make it in time.

Thank you.”

-Good luck.

Over.

Ending the transmission, Lutz let out a small sigh.

The north is blocked by the Bug River.

From the east, the enemy infantry he'd pushed so hard but failed to break, and who were likely regrouping, would counterattack, and from the south, the enemy armored unit was closing in.

“Still, I've avoided getting beaten one-sidedly from three directions.”

Fortunately, the Luftwaffe had informed him of the armored unit's approach in advance, and the enemy armored unit trying to circle around to his rear to attack his unit would be held back to some extent by the reserves dispatched from the main force.

Lutz grinned at the tankers who were looking at him with slightly anxious faces.

“What's with you all? Are you scared?”

“No, sir!”

“I'm scared.”

“Uh, uhh…”

To the tankers, whose faces showed they didn't know how to react to the veteran general in his mid-60s saying he was scared, Lutz gave a grin and picked up the radio.

“This is Oswald Lutz.

Gentlemen, a large-scale armored unit is approaching from the west and south, and the enemy infantry will counterattack from the east.”

Lutz, feeling the vibration of the tank, its heat not yet cooled, spoke again.

“In short, we are in a crisis. Is this situation scary? I'm scared too, gentlemen! It's not the enemies I fear.

I fear that the pride of the German Army, the armored units! That we ourselves will become a laughingstock for mere commies!”

Lutz gripped the cross around his neck with his other hand and shouted.

“Gentlemen, we are the spearhead of the German Army! They may think they've pushed us into a crisis, but can a flock of mere crows intimidate an eagle? Of course not! The battlefield is a plain, a stage for a large-scale tank battle never seen before! Roar your engines! Turn your main guns! Annihilate the enemy! Tanks are things made to charge!”

General Oswald Lutz noticed his hand gripping his cross was trembling slightly, and added with a slight smile.

“That's just talk, of course. Reinforcements are coming soon, so this isn't some nonsense about all dying a heroic death together.

Let's hang in there and endure, gentlemen. Can this old man bear the label of a defeated general in his final years? Over.”

Only then did smiles touch the lips of the tankers, whose faces had been grim, and a chorus of replies came over the radio.

-Yes, sir!

It was close to disorganized noise, a jumble of static from this tank and that tank all replying at once, but Lutz smiled in satisfaction and kissed his cross.

“Oh God, please save us one more time.”

---

“Uwaaah, damn it! Why the hell am I rolling around in a place like this!”

The battalion commander of Hube's Corps' motorized infantry, Major Clemens Fleck, wailed while hiding behind the wreckage of what 'had been' a tank.

The fire brigade of General of the Panzer Troops Hans-Valentin Hube, which Clemens belonged to, was urgently dispatched to rescue the encircled Lutz Armored Group.

Hube's unit, arriving in the west of the battlefield at a hair's breadth timing, immediately entered an engagement with Rokossovsky's armored unit, which was attacking that sector.

The problem was that Clemens's infantry unit was in the worst possible situation, having to engage hundreds of T-34s on a plain with no time to dig trenches or anything.

In that situation, the decision Clemens made was simple.

Waiting to unload heavy equipment would just let the enemy tanks get close and kill everyone, so he would advance the infantry using the wreckage of tanks as cover.

While everyone else was flustered, he was the first to dive behind a burnt-black tank, and his men all followed.

Fortunately, the Soviet Army's infantry was late to join them this time as well, and Clemens's infantry, resisting from behind tank wreckage or prone on the ground, was quite successful in holding them up.

Even if there's little basic infantry can do against tanks, if they get close without infantry support, they can pose a threat with magnetic mines or grenades.

Of course, it was a pathetic struggle that was nothing more or less than buying time, but it was a far better decision than having the entire unit get wiped out while trying to unload heavy equipment on the plain.

Since this side also had many tanks, the enemy tanks soon ignored the bothersome infantry and entered into a tank battle.

“That damn Dietrich! He said he was developing anti-tank weapons! When are we getting them!”

Venting his resentment, Clemens stealthily held up the mirror in his hand over the tank wreckage to survey the battlefield.

Through the mirror, he could see the magnificent scene of Panzer IVs and T-34s filling the plain, clashing and spewing fire at each other.

The German tanks of General of the Panzer Troops Hans-Valentin Hube and the Soviet tanks of Konstantin Rokossovsky easily exceeded 1,000 combined, and their massive clash was filling the vast Mazovian Plain with hideous wreckage.

-Battalion Commander! The 88mm anti-aircraft guns are set up!

Hearing the voice from the radio of the signalman next to him, Clemens excitedly grabbed the radio and shouted.

“Schacht's Gun, oh yeah! Fire away!”

-Yes, sir!

While the infantry had dismounted to hold up the tanks, the vehicles that had hastily pulled back unloaded and set up the heavy equipment, and now they could properly perform their main mission of supporting the tanks.

Just as he was about to let out a sigh of relief, a familiar battle cry was heard.

“Ura!!”

“B-Battalion Commander! It's the enemy!”

“Oh, damn.”

The belatedly arrived Soviet infantry was charging, shouting the familiar 'Ura'.

“To think we have to fight them without trenches.”

Clemens picked up the new model submachine gun that had just been supplied, the MP40.

They'd supplied them in large quantities, saying nothing was better for close-quarters engagement, so he had no choice but to trust it…

“Sob, my yet-unmet lover. Please protect me…”

With no time to establish a front line, Clemens Fleck, despite being a battalion commander, was 'placed' on the front lines.

A crisis again today.

---

January 21, 1941

Central Poland, near Siedlce – Contested Area

The meeting engagement of tanks, which continued day and night on the wide-open Mazovian Plain with no cover whatsoever, was inflicting enormous losses on both sides.

Of the 1,000 tanks under General Oswald Lutz's command, over 200 had already been lost, and the General of the Panzer Troops himself was rampaging on the front lines, stating he couldn't afford to let a new model Panzer IV sit idle.

“Damn it! Just how many tanks do those damn bastards have!”

The Soviet T-34s had the upper hand against the Panzer IV (Early Model) and were only slightly inferior to the new model Panzer IV, but there were just too many of them.

Amidst the roar of the tank's engine, which felt like it would explode, Lutz's Panzer IV sped forward. An instant later, a shell spat out from a T-34's gun with a dull boom and grazed the very edge of his tank's side armor.

The sharp, metallic scream from the armor as the high-velocity round passed by jolted Lutz's exhaustion-ridden mind awake.

“Halt! Turret, turn it, quick!”

The busy tracks stopped, and with the characteristic sound of a traversing turret, his tank's turret rotated—

Finally, the turret aligned perfectly with the front of the enemy T-34.

“Stop!”

The enemy T-34, which had not yet finished reloading, belatedly tried to move, but Lutz shouted first.

“Fire!”

The heavy, long-barreled gun of the new model Panzer IV spewed fire, its recoil shaking the tank.

The T-34's armor couldn't block the 7.5cm shell from this medium range, and the enemy tank fell silent with a grand explosion.

“Ha, that's seven!”

“Amazing, General!”

The old general, forgetting his age and fatigue, cheered with his tankers and kissed his cross again.

But immediately after, an urgent radio message came in.

-This is Major General von Manteuffel! General Lutz! Report that multiple T-34s are performing a flanking maneuver in your direction! Over!

“Thank you, Major General! All tanks, reorganize the line—”

But before General Lutz could finish his sentence over the radio, a loud roar was heard, and another nearby Panzer IV was hit and engulfed in flames.

As Lutz looked forward in horror, he could once again see dozens of T-34s swarming toward them.

“They're here already? Turn left!”

Due to the battle that had already lasted for over a day, fuel and ammunition were running low, and the crew's concentration was a problem.

“Damn it.

If we could just break through a little more, we could link up with the reinforcements!”

Lutz pushed the radio operator aside and grabbed the radio again.

“To all crew! It's impossible to continue engaging here! First, link up with General Hube's unit—”

It was at that moment that a gruesome sound reached Lutz's ears.

“Aargh!”

A shell fired by an enemy T-34 penetrated the Panzer IV's vulnerable side armor, piercing through the chest of the radio operator who had given Lutz his seat.

Before Lutz could react to the tragedy that had just occurred in the spot where he himself had been just a moment ago, steel shrapnel from the penetrated armor flew toward him.

---

January 22, 1941

Central Poland, Capital Warsaw – Central Allied Command

-Headquarters, this is General of the Panzer Troops Hube! We lost contact with General Lutz, but the Lutz Armored Group, led by Major General Hasso von Manteuffel, has successfully joined up! We are engaging the enemy unit, but we cannot block the entire offensive of the enemy, who are accompanied by a large-scale armored unit! We need reinforcements!

The armored corps and reserves, which had been called in to annihilate Grigory Kulik's forces, were now in a situation where they themselves needed reinforcements, putting the Central Allied Command in a difficult position.

“To think the Soviet Army's latent power was this great…”

Army Group Centre Commander Fedor von Bock let out a groan and glanced at the Polish Inspector General of the Armed Forces, Sikorski.

Following the German operation, they had accepted losses and pulled the front line closer to Warsaw, and now they truly could not retreat any further. Pulling troops from here could put Warsaw in real danger.

But if the armored corps and reserves were defeated here, the Allied Forces would lose their capacity for a counterattack and just get beaten one-sidedly.

Sikorski, with his head bowed, remained silent for a moment, then looked up.

“We will send reinforcements.”

“B-But, Your Excellency, the Inspector General!”

The Polish staff officer, Kopański, was flustered, but Sikorski cut him off by continuing to speak resolutely.

“If we lose here, we can do nothing until the Western Front is over. Poland has already paid a high price, and what the Poles need is not immediate safety, but the hope of victory.”

“My apologies…”

As Kopański stepped back, Sikorski looked at Bock and spoke.

“We will send reinforcements.

However, if a large number of German troops with their heavy equipment pull out, the power vacuum in Warsaw will be severe, so that would be troublesome.”

The interpreter, who had been overwhelmed by Sikorski, relayed his words only after receiving a look from Sikorski, and Army Group Centre's Chief of Staff, Hans Krebs, spoke up.

“Then let's dispatch a mixed German and Polish force. Dispatching two divisions each should be appropriate.”

Fedor von Bock nodded at Hans Krebs's glance, and Sikorski, after hearing the translation, also agreed.

“Understood.

I will confirm and dispatch them immediately.”

Thanks to Sikorski's prompt and difficult decision, things proceeded smoothly.

Fedor von Bock, as a sign of respect, took off his hat and gave him a slight bow.

“The decisiveness shown by the Inspector General in this crisis will surely contribute to our victory.

I express my gratitude.”

“We are only doing all we can to protect our homeland.”

Major Roger Michael, who was attending the meeting as a staff officer, finally let out the breath he had been holding.

What must be the weight of a decision that gambles the fate of a nation and its countless soldiers on the front lines?

Having been in such a place, he felt he could now understand, at least roughly, what his friend Dietrich was feeling.

“Major Michael. Sort out the divisions suitable for the dispatched force.”

“Yes, sir, Major General!”

Roger gave an immediate answer to Hans Krebs's order and began to shuffle through the documents summarizing the status of each division.

Even so, his mind replayed the scene from the meeting he had just witnessed.

He wondered if he could make such a decision if he rose to a high position as a staff officer.

---

January 22, 1941

Central Poland, Lublin – Kulik's Army Group Headquarters

“What? They want reinforcements?”

Field Marshal Kulik, who was hell-bent on capturing Warsaw, immediately scowled at the staff officer who relayed the message.

“Y-Yes, Comrade Field Marshal. It's a request from General Rokossovsky.

He says they've succeeded in encircling the flanking enemy armored unit, but the enemy reserves have also arrived, and a fierce close combat is underway. He says if we send reinforcements now, they can surely encircle and annihilate them…”

“Tell them we're too busy capturing Warsaw and we can't!”

Kulik dismissed it as if it were a trivial demand.

“Comrade Field Marshal, this is an important opportunity. To be able to annihilate the German armored units in one fell swoop…”

“The fall of Warsaw is right before our eyes once we cross that Vistula River, so what's the big deal about some armored unit!”

Kulik was adamant, and another staff officer who could no longer stand by stepped forward.

“But Comrade General Secretary, Comrade Commander-in-Chief gave prior notice to support them with reserves in case of an emergency…”

“Look here, comrade.”

“Yes?”

Kulik glared at the staff officer with a very displeased face and asked.

“What is the Comrade Commander-in-Chief's rank?”

“C-Comrade Georgy Zhukov's rank is Colonel General, comrade.”

“Then what is my rank?”

“F-Field Marshal, comrade.”

Kulik asked the staff officer, who was breaking out in a cold sweat, bluntly.

“Then whose orders should be followed?”

“My apologies, Comrade Field Marshal.

I will relay it as such.”

As soon as the staff officer walked away, Kulik turned his gaze back to the operational map.

Warsaw, Warsaw is right before my eyes.

And in this situation, they want me to send troops to mop up an armored unit?

Ha! So I'm supposed to clean up the mess of the two generals that Zhukov is backing and just earn credit for 'helping' them?

Even if I help, the credit for annihilating the armored unit will go to those two, and if they participate in the capture of Warsaw, they'll just be taking a share of my military merit.

According to the report, they're winning anyway, so surely they won't lose just because I don't send reinforcements.

That arrogant and cunning bastard Zhukov must be scheming to prevent me from entering Warsaw alone.

“Hmph, you sly bastard. Not a chance!”

Field Marshal Kulik reached out his hand with greedy eyes as if to seize Warsaw on the map.

Naturally, the city drawn on the map was not caught in his grasp.