Chapter 593: Chapter 36: Pulling the Plug (Extra Update 24/81)
Nelly truly received a Mosin-Nagant rifle.
Then she regretfully realized that, even though she was eighteen and even without the cumberso long bayonet attached, she was still not as tall as the rifle.
The Quartermaster who handed her the rifle was serious, “We Naval Infantry don’t have optical sights, you can only get used to the chanical sight.”
“I’m very used to it,” Nelly said, “When I was shooting rabbits, I used a chanical sight.”
The old Quartermaster looked at Nelly skeptically, “The General and the forr Crown Prince went hunting, and it was really you who did the shooting?”
“Mhm,” Nelly nodded.
“Alright, co, take these clothes and this military uniform. This is the smallest uniform we could find here.”
“I can just wear my maid outfit.”
“No, that’s too conspicuous.”
Nelly, however, pointed at the mud spots on her skirt, “It won’t be long before the white turns to the color of mud, don’t worry.”
The old Quartermaster sighed, “Even a girl like you has to roll in the mud, war is truly detestable, the Invaders are truly detestable.”
Nelly didn’t respond, she bent her head to check the bullets she had been given.
At that mont, the Naval Infantry Brigade Commander, carrying the rank of Brigadier, approached, “Are you the General’s Orderly? Co help make coffee at the Brigade Headquarters.”
“No, I want to fight the Prosens, to be with the warriors,” Nelly coldly said, “I’m just a hired worker, and not under your command.”
“In theory, even a rabbit on this battlefield falls under my command,” the Brigadier stopped, watching as Nelly expertly checked the Mosin-Nagant’s bore.
The old Quartermaster beside her said, “She might shoot better than most of our recruits, you can rest assured, Brigade Commander.”
“How could I be assured, what if General Rocosov asks later, and I say your Orderly…” At that mont, a howling sound ca from the sky.
Nelly imdiately threw herself against the trench wall, her reaction faster than both the Brigadier and the old Quartermaster.
While taking cover, the Brigadier shouted, “Take cover! Artillery is coming, take cover!”
The shells fell, but they did not shake the ground as intensely as anticipated.
The Brigadier lifted his head, “What’s going on? No Heavy Artillery? It feels like the biggest tubes are just 105 milliters.”
In fact, 105mm howitzers were already powerful enough, perhaps the Naval Infantry’s perception of cannon caliber differed from the Army’s. After all, they were Navy, and on a warship, a 105mm gun was only considered a fire poker, the main guns on a Destroyer were 127mm.
The bombardnt lasted for 20 minutes, a rather short period of ti for a preparatory barrage.
Moreover, the density of the falling shells was not very high.
Nelly got up, looked down at her maid outfit, and sure enough, the white had nearly disappeared. One more bombardnt and she would blend completely with the position.
The Brigadier seed to want to persuade Nelly again, but a loud call ca from the observation post, “Tanks! Enemy tanks approaching!”
Following that, the roar of engines pierced everyone’s ears.
The Brigadier turned and ran towards the command post, shouting as he went, “Into the positions! Get into positions! Anti-tank guns and Anti-tank Rifle bearers get ready! Grenadiers, check your ammunition!”
After the Brigadier left, Nelly turned to the Quartermaster and said, “I’m also going to fight, you—”
She stopped, seeing the old Quartermaster fallen in the trench.
After a mont of silence, she reached out and gently closed the old man’s eyes, then pulled a letter, now half stained with blood, from his pocket and stuffed it into her maid outfit.
Then she adjusted her beret, took her Mosin-Nagant which was taller than herself, and quickly moved along the trench until she arrived at the foremost firing pit in no ti.
An old non-commissioned officer nad Malov was in the pit, encouraging the new recruits. When he saw Nelly show up, he exclaid, “How did you get to the firing pit, get to the back! Wait until you hear soone shout ‘dic’ and then co to rescue us!”
Nelly patted her Mosin-Nagant.
Malov: “Nonsense! Look how many Papashas we have! Are we missing your one Mosin-Nagant? We know you’re representing the General here, but—”
A shrapnel round fired from a Prosen tank exploded behind Malov. Zaitsev, lying next to Malov, turned his head and said, “Damn, what’s that explosion? Our machine guns haven’t fired yet! Wait, we don’t have machine guns here, do we?”
Malov smacked him on the head, “It’s to scare new recruits like you! The machine guns will open fire soon!”
Before he could finish, the Prosens’ tanks opened fire, and bullets swept over the heads of the warriors like a violent storm. At this mont, whether they were veterans or new recruits, even Malov himself ducked.
“See!” he shouted loudly, “That’s how it is, this is suppressive fire.”
Even seasoned warriors cannot change their instinct to avoid danger; when a large number of bullets are landing all around, most will have adrenaline surging and heart rates accelerating.
Those who are more afraid of dying will curl up in a ball, unable to even shoot.
Zaitsev: “Then what do we do in this situation?”
“Wait until the enemy cos within 100 ters, then the Papashas can achieve better accuracy. Before that, the machine guns will block the enemy infantry,” Malov patted Zaitsev’s shoulder.
That’s when he noticed Nelly lying at a specifically designed firing port in the pit, her rifle already propped up.
“What are you doing? If our anti-tank guns haven’t opened fire then that ans the enemy tanks are still beyond 500 ters, and their infantry is behind the tanks, so right now…”
Nelly ignored Malov and carefully adjusted her range to the 700-ter mark.
Yes, the Mosin-Nagant’s chanical sight can be set to that range, but ordinary people wouldn’t need to use that sight setting.
Then Nelly aid at a target.
At that distance, with the naked eye, it was impossible to distinguish which black dot was an infantryman and which was an officer, so Nelly simply picked a target at random.
She pulled the trigger.
Beside her, Malov comnted, “The shooting posture is quite standard, no buttstock hitting the shoulder. But can you really hit accurately at this distance, young lady?”
Nelly didn’t answer, but Zaitsev shouted, “Down! An infantryman is down!”
Seeing the enemy fall, Nelly breathed a sigh of relief, then worked the bolt to eject the spent cartridge case, which flew out of the ejection port, bounced once in the trench, and finally rolled to a stop at Malov’s feet.
Malov stepped on the cartridge case and squinted at Nelly.
At this ti, she fired again.
The platoon leader was running towards them, shouting, “Malov, why is soone here firing single shots? Tell her not to shoot!”
“We’ve got a female sniper here!” Malov shouted back, “She’s already taken down two.”
“I wasn’t inford that a female sniper had joined,” the platoon leader approached and, upon seeing Nelly, he changed his tune, “That’s good, but Miss Nelly, if you could just obey the trench discipline a little better. When the enemy gets closer, you can target officers and those sergeants with submachine guns, even aim for their Wound Badges and Iron Crosses.”
Those with Wound Badges were likely the core returned from injuries, and those with Iron Crosses went without saying.
Nelly nodded: “Understood. I’m sorry.”
“No problem, it’s good as long as you’re taking out the Prosens,” the platoon leader nodded and turned to walk back the way he ca.
At this ti the anti-tank gun fired, indicating the enemy tanks had crossed the marked distance.
Malov lay on the edge of the trench, cautiously peering out and indeed saw a Panzer IV engulfed in flas.
“Good!” he shouted with a clenched fist.
It was of course the naval infantry who were equipped with 45mm anti-tank units, but the anti-tank gun units at the beachhead were now equipped with ZIS-3 type 76mm anti-tank guns. It was quite easy to penetrate a Panzer IV’s weak points at a distance of 500 ters.
After all, the Panzer IV was fundantally designed that way; after being equipped with a heavier long-barrel 75mm gun, there wasn’t much weight redundancy left for reinforcing armor.
The second shot from the ZIS-3 hit a Panzer III but only stopped the tank.
The Prosen Tankers swiftly ran out of the tank and lay flat on the ground for concealnt.
Clearly, they too were well versed in this drill.
At the sa ti, several Panzer IVs returned fire, and explosions imdiately ca from the anti-tank gun positions.
Malov: “Let’s see how reliable the shelter we worked overti to build last night without sleep is! It has to hold against the Panzer IV’s shrapnel!”
Before he finished speaking, another Panzer IV was hit, but this ti the armor-piercing shell didn’t hit a weak spot accurately, and due to a bad angle, it was deflected by the front armor of the turret.
The Panzer IV continued to fire, as the anti-tank gun positions were engulfed in smoke from the shrapnel explosions.
The Panzer III tanks, anwhile, fired a barrage while advancing towards the trenches.
When they crossed the 200-ter marker, machine guns opened fire, and the crossfire forced the infantry following the tanks to go prone, disrupting the entire assault formation.
The naval infantry Grenadiers hidden in cat ear holes in front of the main firing trench quickly popped their heads out, tossing the first wave of incendiary bombs onto the Panzer III tanks within arm’s reach.
Several Panzer III tanks were instantly enveloped in flas.
Tank with the tactical number 143, a Panzer III, was hit on the engine vent cover and imdiately ca to a halt. The hatch of the turret opened, and the tank commander, holding an MP40, popped his head out to shoot at the Grenadier.
Nelly fired.
She had reset the sight to the default distance and relied entirely on instinct for the shot.
The Prosen tank commander was shot in the head, the bullet lifting the scalp and even breaking the crossbar on the headset.
As Nelly was pulling the bolt, the door of the Panzer III turret opened from the side, presumably the Gunner climbing out and jumping off the tank to run.
So Nelly sent a bullet into his back.
As she was working the bolt, Nelly heard Zaitsev nearby saying, “Malov, why do I feel the Mosin-Nagant is more useful than the Papasha?”
“That’s because she shoots accurately. Stick to your Papasha!” Malov scolded.
Nelly took out another Prosen officer, then pulled a cartridge from her pocket and placed it by the edge of the trench, starting to load and fire one round at a ti.
Malov ca over and said, “Let help you with the magazines; you focus on firing.”
“Thank you,” Nelly whispered gently and took down a Prosen sergeant who was firing a submachine gun – the MP40 magazine was inserted vertically, requiring the upper body to be propped up while firing prone.
Malov finished loading the magazine and handed it to Nelly.
At that ti, the Prosens began to retreat, releasing smoke.
Zaitsev asked in surprise, “Is that it?”
“This was a probing attack. Didn’t you notice the enemy numbers were very small? Not many accompanying infantry, and even the fire preparation was quite sloppy,” Malov said while loading, “If I’m not mistaken, the real test will co tomorrow.”
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