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Prohibition of Interference. Book 2. Tactical Level. Макс ГлебовЧитать онлайн книгу.

Prohibition of Interference. Book 2. Tactical Level - Макс Глебов


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I'm talking about B-4, Comrade Lieutenant Colonel.”

* * *

      “Well, Vitaly Nikolayevich, has the Special Department interrogated the German prisoner?” The commander of the 38th Army turned to the Chief of Staff who entered the room.

      “That's right, Nikolai Vladimirovich, and not only him. The scouts from the 300th Division who took the Hauptmann also saw something. Lieutenant Colonel Semenov interviewed them and mapped the data and the latest changes in the situation. Here, take a look.”

      Major General Feklenko leaned over the map unfolded on the table by the Chief of Staff.

      “Guderian still advanced,” the army commander stated grimly, looking at the blue arrows of German Panzer Group strikes stretching from the north, “It is now obvious that he wants to encircle the entire Southwestern Front. But I see that his advance has slowed down, so let's hope his tanks don't stab us in the back.”

      “Our troops are entrenched in the area of Nizhyn and Romny,” replied the Chief of Staff without much confidence in his voice, “and from the east the Bryansk front of Eryomenko strikes against the Germans who have broken through. We will hold them, Comrade Commander of the Army.”

      “All right, Vitaly Nikolayevich, let's get back to the business of our army. What do we have here? A bridge from the west bank to Ulitochnyi Island?”

      “That's right. At night the scouts heard sounds characteristic of vehicles crossing the pontoon bridge, and the German prisoner confirmed this information. This bridge is light, tanks will not pass through, and there is no crossing from the island to our shore yet either.”

      “Do you know the exact coordinates of the bridge?”

      “The prisoner was unable to specify them. He was being transported at night by truck, and the scout who managed to get relatively close did not see the crossing at all, he heard only the sound of engines.”

      “That's bad. What about the weather? Will the aviation be able to work? The bridge must be destroyed as soon as possible.”

      “The weather is no good, Nikolai Vladimirovich. Low clouds and rain. Aviators don't expect improvement for another couple of days.”

      “We're like blind men,” Feklenko grumbled unhappily, “at least the scouts brought this Hauptmann, the map was updated at once. Is he from the 125th Infantry Division, by the way? So they're moving them from Uman to us too.”

      “The Germans keep increasing the number of infantry on the bridgehead. The scouts also saw light artillery. It was being moved by boats from Ulitochnyi Island.”

      “Well, we're getting stronger too,” Feklenko objected, “We did get some reserves, though it was a little late. We will not be able to eliminate the bridgehead, but now, if the Germans hit us with their infantry toward Guderian, we will hold them off. We must hold them.”

      “And if they move tanks?” cautiously asked the chief of staff.

      “How? Without a bridge, it is possible, of course, to deliver a few tanks to the bridgehead, but on the scale of the proposed offensive it is not serious.”

      “The scouts insist that the Germans are preparing to build a large bridge. They have no proof, just vague premonitions, but during the interrogation the prisoner confirmed that he saw numerous engineer units on the west bank and a significant accumulation of pontoons and construction materials that could be used to build a crossing.”

      The Army Commander thought about it.

      “Well, okay, even so… What will they move over the bridge? Heavy artillery? They don't have any tanks here, not even on the west bank. As long as there was flying weather, air reconnaissance did not report enemy tank units.”

      “I don't know, Nikolai Vladimirovich,” said the chief of staff, “But I can say one thing: if the Germans are going to build a bridge, it means they will have something to move over it.”

      “You and me, Vitaly Nikolaevich, seem to be reading the tea-leaves,” the Army Commander shook his head.

      “Lieutenant Colonel Semenov reported to me that a proposal was received from the scouts of the 300th Division. They want to go back to where they took the Hauptmann, but with other goals.”

      “So let them operate. Such an operation does not require approval in the army headquarters,” Feklenko was surprised.

      “They want to go on a raid for a few days and take a portable radio transmitter with them. They will sit on the bank of the river or on one of the small islands, and keep watch. If the Germans start building the crossing, they will report the exact coordinates of the bridge and offer to hit it with howitzers of special power. But to correct the fire they need to establish cooperation with the artillery regiment of the Reserve of the Supreme High Command, and no one will talk to them there without your order.”

      “It's a big risk,” Feklenko hesitated, “To reach the Dnieper, the artillerymen would have to pull the B-4 howitzers almost to the very front line. As soon as they open fire, the Germans will start a counter-battery fight, and the artillerymen will have to shoot for a long time – it is not easy to hit at such a distance, even with the help of a spotter.”

      “The commander of a separate reconnaissance company of the 300th Division, Captain Shcheglov, states that if Junior Lieutenant Nagulin corrects the fire, hits will follow quickly.”

      “Is that so?” Sarcasm was clearly audible in the voice of the Army Commander. “And who is this Nagulin? A great artilleryman who went to serve in the intelligence service for some reason?”

      “That's how I reacted when I heard about the plan, too,” the chief of staff shrugged. “But then… Anyway, just in case, I asked the Special Department what they had on this Nagulin.”

      “And?” Feklenko was interested.

      “He and Captain Shcheglov came to us from Lieutenant-General Muzychenko's Sixth Army; they broke out of the pocket as part of the staff column. There are no details, but it seems this Nagulin showed himself very well there. And, according to the officers of the Special Department, it was he who captured the Hauptmann by attacking the boat carrying the officer and by cutting off the guards.”

      “Well, if he's so good, let the Captain write up a presentation to the award for him – he honestly deserves it. But that doesn't answer my question.”

      “That's not all, Comrade Commander. A secret order came from the front's Special Department. I was introduced to it. The Junior Lieutenant, it turns out, is not so simple. Our Special Department officers were instructed to keep an eye on him, but not to touch him. It is specifically stated that Nagulin should not be hindered in his initiatives. Within reasonable limits, of course. He seems to have distinguished himself quite a bit there, near Uman. It was something that impressed even high NKVD officials. Many men from the Sixth Army arrived with the last reinforcements to the 300th Division. Major Gunko asked them some neat questions about Nagulin. Everyone claims that he is a great marksman, just phenomenal. And he hits with the same accuracy from any weapon, including anti-aircraft guns. They say Nagulin shot down several planes before their eyes.”

      “Well, you can't believe all these stories unconditionally…” said Feklenko thoughtfully. “But it looks like he's really not an ordinary fighter. And I will not hide the fact that you, Vitaly Nikolayevich, have puzzled me quite a bit with this bridge for tanks. All right, Comrade Chief of Staff, prepare the order, I'll sign it. Let the scouts act, they will have howitzers of special power.”

      Chapter 5

      I slept the rest of the day off after returning to the division. Shcheglov and the rest of the raid participants were also able to rest, but it seems that I was the only one who managed to sleep for so long. Apparently, my comrades tried not to bother me, remembering my injury, even if it was necessary.

      It was late in the evening when the Captain woke me up after all.

      “Junior Lieutenant,” he said softly, touching my shoulder, “You and I are called to the division commander. Be ready in ten minutes.”

      When


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