Erich,” said the Colonel without a smile, “I was afraid it was much worse.”
“Herr Oberst,” the doctor said to the guest, “Major Schliemann suffered a serious concussion. Please try not to make him nervous.”
“I'll take that into account,” the Colonel nodded, and the doctor quietly left, closing the door behind him.
“How do you feel, Erich?”
“You're absolutely right, it could be worse,” the Major shrugged, “You know, Heinrich, I had no idea that the Communists could act so quickly. That barrage of fire… My battalion was wiped out.”
“Russian rocket artillery,” the Colonel winced, “So far they don't have many of these weapons, but it looks like the enemy command is banking on them. Our Nebelwerfers are more accurate, but the Bolsheviks have a longer range and more shells in a volley. It's not a pleasant thing.”
“I've had the opportunity to see it for myself,” Schliemann nodded.
“What happened there, Erich? The testimony of the survivors doesn't make the picture very clear. Did the Russian marksman manage to get away?”
“Most likely yes, Herr Oberst. Unless, of course, he was caught by accidental shrapnel. I ordered my men not to shoot him – I wanted to take him alive, but the Russians hit with such force that anything could have happened.”
“This is bad, Erich. Very bad. I think you should understand the depth of the trouble that awaits us in the near future. Our operation was already known at the top, and now, if the Russians put their new firing equipment into production…”
“It's not so terrible, Heinrich,” Schliemann said with a slight smile on his face.
“Is that so?” The Colonel asked incredulously.
“There is no special equipment, Herr Oberst,” the Major's voice sounded confident, “I saw him firing an anti-aircraft gun. There's an open platform, not even a shield, and I was able to see everything in detail. The gunner had no special equipment, and the anti-aircraft gun looked perfectly standard. It's just one person. Yes, he's a genius marksman, but it's not about a device that can be given to every soldier, it's purely about his personal qualities or special abilities. But he's just one, you know? He is the only unique person in the entire Bolshevik army, and one shooter, no matter how good he is, cannot determine the outcome of the war, especially if he is stopped in time.”
“Are you sure about that, Erich? He shoots without seeing the target,” said the Colonel thoughtfully, “How does he do it? Not by ear! Although… If there's no equipment, maybe it's some kind of medication that increases perception by an order of magnitude?”
“Then why is there only one, Heinrich? No, it's not the chemistry. In addition, it is difficult to imagine how strong the drug must be, to amplify hearing and vision in such a way. This Russian has demonstrated his abilities for far too long. If he had been on powerful stimulants all this time, he would have died a long time ago, there are no miracles.”
The Colonel was silent for some time, pondering what he had heard, but Schliemann saw that Richtengden's face gradually smoothed out, as if a heavy burden had been lifted from him and he was told that he no longer needed to carry it.
“I'm sure I can find him and close the problem for Germany once and for all,” Schliemann's face was grim with determination.
“Is this revenge, Erich?” Richtengden grinned, “It seems that this Russian was able to get under your skin.”
“He is only a savage, Heinrich, but a dangerous savage, and he must be stopped before he kills hundreds of our soldiers.”
“Well, well…” said the Colonel indefinitely, “Get well, Erich. You gave me some very important information, and I'm sure it will be highly appreciated on the top. I think your personal participation in the hunt for the Russian shooter will be approved. In any case, I'll keep you informed.”
My rank was confirmed for me. In the Personnel Department I received a new Identity Book and a referral to the 300th Infantry Division, to be exact, to its separate reconnaissance company, which surprised me somewhat, but when I saw the name of my new commander in the document, I only grinned. Captain Shcheglov, it seems, got his way, and I must confess, I was only happy about it.
Sergeant Pluzhnikov was taken to the rear. I managed to visit him in the field hospital, and he said that the shrapnel had caught something serious, and he would be back in action in three months at best. But Chezhin and Sharkov went to their new duty station with me, and there was obviously someone's unobtrusive interference.
They took the Panzerbüchse away from me almost immediately, despite all my insistence, but I still had the Walther stashed away and would not give it away. But now I, as the future commander of the reconnaissance platoon, was given a Shpagin submachine gun and a Nagant revolver. These weapons were extremely difficult to aim, but both the PPSh and the revolver were good for close combat.
“Well, hello, Nagulin,” Shcheglov replied to my report with a satisfied smile, “I didn't expect to see you so soon. Honestly, I'm glad to see you like one of my own. Of my men with whom I started the war, only Ignatov and Nikiforov remained. How did you get into scouting? I thought you were going to the air defense, but that's how it turned out.”
“It's hard to say, Comrade Captain. I thought it was you who wrote a report asking me to be assigned to you…”
“Who needs my report, Nagulin?” grinned Shcheglov, “I don't think anyone would listen to me.”
“My men from the anti-tank rifle crew were sent to you with me.”
“Chezhin and Sharkov?” The Captain nodded, “Good fighters. They're not scouts, of course, but they've been through so much that we can coach them quickly. They took away your German gun?”
“They said it wasn't allowed.”
“It's a pity. It was a good thing… Though why would a scout need it?”
“I'd find a use for it.”
“I don't doubt it. You, Nagulin, can find a job for a sea mine in reconnaissance, too, if you're given one.”
I smiled. Shcheglov looked tired, but collected and businesslike. It was clear that command was pushing his company very hard, but the Captain was not giving up.
“You'll take the second platoon,” my new commander has moved on, “Ignatov is in command there for now, but it's not a sergeant's position, although he knows the service.”
“Copy that!”
“I'll give you until tonight to get up to speed, and then I'll make all the demands. We don't have time to chill here. Command shakes us all the time and demands information about the enemy. The Germans occupied Kremenchuk, seized a bridgehead on our bank of the Dnieper and are ferrying infantry units to it. Our troops tried to hold on to the big islands, of which there are plenty, but the Germans quickly drove us out of there. We can't throw them into the river – we don't have enough forces, so all we can do is hold the Germans back. An order came from the army headquarters to the division. They need prisoners to find out what is going on in the bridgehead and to uncover German plans. How the hell did they get so hot over there, if the Army Headquarters is giving out such orders? It's not their level. I would have understood if Regimental Headquarters had sent such an order…”
“The
