Prohibition of Interference. Book 2. Tactical Level. Макс ГлебовЧитать онлайн книгу.
had gone on the attack after all.
The artillery preparation stopped, and I climbed up from the muddy bottom of the ravine. The Germans in the trenches were now clearly not interested in me. It wasn't yet dawn, but the sky was beginning to lighten, and I was going to take advantage of the last minutes of limited visibility to get to our trenches.
Our infantry went on the attack, firing on the run. It was their fight, and I had done my job for the day. No one paid attention to the fighter in the camouflage robe, covered in mud, who ran to the rear.
About halfway through, I was stopped by a senior lieutenant with a pistol in his hand.
“Are you a scout? From Captain Shcheglov's company?”
“Yes, Comrade Senior Lieutenant. Returning from the mission.”
“You need to go a hundred meters to the right,” the officer shouted on the run, “All your guys are already there. The division commander himself is meeting you.”
Chapter 4
When I jumped into the trench like a dirty ghost, the division commander's guards immediately pointed their PPSh submachine guns at me, but I had no weapons in my hands, and the Red Army men relaxed slightly.
“Are you Junior Lieutenant Nagulin?” asked Kuznetsov, looking at me with interest.
“That's right, Comrade Colonel,” I tried to stand at attention and raised my hand to my cap.
“At ease, scout. Did you cover the retreat of the group?”
“That's right, Comrade Colonel.”
“You're lucky to be back. I was beginning to think that Shcheglov's platoon was once again without a commander.”
“Junior Lieutenant Nagulin is not so easy to kill, Comrade Colonel,” the Captain grinned wearily, “many have tried…”
“Don't jinx it,” the Colonel smiled faintly as he looked at Shcheglov. “Did he get the prisoner for interrogation, too?”
“Yes, he did, Comrade Colonel,” nodded the Captain. “He captured a boat carrying a German officer across the Dnieper, killed the soldiers who were rowing and the Feldwebel, and stunned the Hauptmann. He was wounded in the fight, but remained in the ranks.”
“Wounded?” Kuznetsov turned to me again.
“Slightly, Comrade Colonel, I got a knife in my shoulder. The arm moves normally.”
“I know you, heroes! Take the Junior Lieutenant to the infirmary, quickly! Captain, I give you and your men one hour to clean up. You will go to the army headquarters together with the head of the special department of the division. You got the prisoner for interrogation yourself – you will deliver it to the destination, and I have enough to do in the meantime,” the division commander looked toward the German trenches, from where the sounds of gunfire and grenade explosions could be heard. “And take Nagulin with you, if the medics let him go.”
It took us about an hour to get to the 38th Army headquarters. The German prisoner was sullenly silent, sitting in the back of a lorry between two men from the NKVD platoon. The five of us settled in the same place, and Major Gunko, head of the Special Department of the 300th Division, took a seat in the cabin.
“Comrade Captain, the Germans will start an attack any day now. They have almost everything ready,” I started working on Shcheglov as soon as we hit the road.
“With what? Infantry? Did you see a single tank or self-propelled gun on the bridgehead?”
“I've seen something more unpleasant, and I've heard even more. The enemy pulled a huge number of pontoons to Kremenchuk and is stockpiling materials to build a bridge capable of supporting heavy equipment.”
“Are you kidding me, Junior Lieutenant? More than a kilometer of pontoons! They'll be working on it for two weeks, if they can do anything at all. Our troops will not sleep either – they will bomb that bridge without regard for any losses.”
“Here he is,” I nodded at the Hauptmann, “confirming to me that he saw a large accumulation of means of passage on the shore and the ever arriving units of sappers.”
“And the tanks?” Shcheglov was still hesitant, “had he seen tanks?”
“The German didn't say anything about tanks, but that just means they haven't arrived yet. The Germans will not build such a grand crossing for the infantry, Comrade Captain! They're already handling the transfer of infantry divisions to the bridgehead, you've seen it.”
“Yes, I've seen it,” Shcheglov agreed.
“Tomorrow or the day after tomorrow they will erect a crossing. Because of the un-flying weather, no one will be able to stop them, and our headquarters won't even know anything about it. And then several tank divisions will be on the Kremenchuk bridgehead in one night, and in the morning they will strike. Can the 300th Rifle Division withstand an attack by hundreds of tanks? There will be hundreds of them only in our defense zone, but they will strike our neighbors as well.”
Listening to me, Shcheglov grew darker and darker. It was felt that he wanted to object, but the Captain restrained himself. Nevertheless, after I stopped talking, he didn't answer right away.
“I have known you for a long time, Junior Lieutenant,” Shcheglov said at last, choosing his words carefully, “and you have never panicked without reason. But what you say… They won't believe it at the headquarters. You have too little evidence. Did Hauptmann see any tanks? He didn't see them. Have you seen the finished bridge or at least part of it? You haven't seen it! Everything else is just your guess. And even if I believe it's right, it doesn't change anything. No one is going to make decisions based on the fantasies of a captain and a junior lieutenant.”
I understood that Shcheglov was right, but I could not leave the situation as it was.
“Comrade Captain, can you make sure that the army headquarters at least listens to my report?”
“I don't know, Nagulin. I don't know! Who am I? Captain, commander of the reconnaissance company of the 300th Division. And there's a major general, the army commander! Do you think Feklenko will listen to my requests? Well, okay, let it not be Feklenko personally, but Chief of Staff Simvolokov, so he, too, is a major general. It is not certain that we will be allowed into the headquarters at all, and not limited to being questioned in the Special Department.”
“So we'll have to report at whatever level we can get to. Maybe we should talk to our head of the Special Department first?”
“To Gunko?” Shcheglov shook his head doubtfully, “I don't know. He's a normal guy, on the whole. And he knows his service, but he can hardly help us in such a case. It's the first time he's seen you. What if your assumption is wrong? That would be misinformation! He won't want to take that responsibility.”
It looked like I had only to rely on chance, but if it presented itself, I wasn't going to let it pass me by.
“Comrade Captain, I have a suggestion, but we can't carry out this plan ourselves, without help from above.”
Stalin stood up leisurely, left his desk, and walked around the office, clutching an unlit pipe in his hand. He stopped, cast a keen eye over the people assembled in the office, and spoke, pausing for a few moments between words:
“The commander of the Southern Front, General Tyulenev showed himself in the battles near Uman from the worst side. He knows neither how to attack, nor how to organize a competent withdrawal of troops. Tyulenev lost two armies where it would have been a disgrace to lose two regiments. I have already suggested to Comrade Budyonny to deal with this situation personally, and, as far as I know, an investigation has been conducted. I read the preliminary reports. Tyulenev tries to shift all responsibility for the loss of the armies to Army Commanders Ponedelin and Muzychenko, but there is an opinion that this is only an attempt at self-justification. What do you, comrades, think about this issue?”
“Let me say, Comrade Stalin,” the People's Commissar of Internal Affairs took the floor.
“I'm