Chapter 430: We Have Our Own Pride

If you were to ask which unit in the German Army was the most admired, some might say the panzer divisions with their sledgehammer blows; some might say the panzergrenadiers, who could fight their way across a thousand li in a day and were ever-victorious; some might think of the cold, ruthless snipers who achieved victory through surprise.

Even if some thought of the unheralded infantry or the artillery, they would almost certainly never think that within the German infantry divisions, there was a group of men who, with their own quiet dedication, supported an entire world for the German infantry.

Unlike other countries, which had large numbers of infantry tanks dispersed among their infantry units, Germany’s tanks, from the Panzer III to the Panther to the Tiger, were all tailor-made for concentrated use by the panzer divisions. These tanks were never issued to the infantry, because German commanders considered it a waste.

Therefore, for a long time, the ordinary German infantry units were essentially World War I-level infantry, lacking armored cover. The only thing they could rely on was the rifle in their hands. What changed this situation was the infantry division’s own attached armored self-propelled artillery unit.

During the development of the Panzer III, Germany encountered technical difficulties in lightening the cannon. Around 1923, they were unable to mount Akado’s preferred short-barreled 75mm cannon on the Panzer III. Moreover, a Panzer III with a turret exceeded the weight limits set for German tanks in the Anglo-German “New Treaty of Versailles.”

Thus, the StuG III (Sturmgeschütz III) assault gun was born. Because this armored self-propelled gun had no turret and did not need to fire from the side, it could withstand a greater recoil. It had a low profile and was equipped with the largest caliber tank cannon in the world at the time, a 75mm gun, making it fully capable of fulfilling the role of “front-line support artillery” for the infantry. This new vehicle, based on a modified, cheaper, turretless Panzer III chassis, was named the StuG III by the Führer. In fact, it was the first “tank” to be mass-produced in the Reichswehr era, replacing the Panzer II and becoming the backbone of the Reichswehr’s armored forces.

However, with the introduction of the Panzer III tank, this cheap, turretless assault gun was gradually phased out of the panzer divisions. But who would have thought that later, when the Panther tank became the new favorite of the panzer forces and the production of the Panzer III gradually declined to the point of near-cessation, the even older StuG III would find a new and vibrant life with the infantry units.

Experience proved that this assault gun was perfectly suited to the task of covering the infantry and providing close fire support. As time went on, this old piece of equipment, with its low profile and powerful gun, became a favorite of infantry commanders due to its low cost, rapid production, mature technology, and reliability.

Of course, the original short-barreled 75mm cannon had been upgraded to a long-barreled version, and the original infantry support weapon had gradually evolved into a multi-functional fire support platform. Its annual production was even on par with that of the Panther tank.

In the hands of elite infantry assault gun crews, this weapon became a deadly killer, inflicting a heavy price on the enemies of the German infantry.

There is a famous saying in armies around the world: “New recruits fear cannons, old soldiers fear light machine guns.” This means that while artillery barrages are fierce, the hidden and mobile light machine-gun nests are a more deadly threat. But the British veterans who had truly fought against the German army discovered that, compared to the German panzer divisions, the more common StuG III was an even bigger headache.

At this moment, behind a pile of rubble, beside a StuG III with all its top armor plates removed, exposing the entire fighting compartment, the commander was standing on the engine deck, observing the distance with his binoculars.

The assault gun had just fired a high-angle shot, which had landed in the British attack zone about two kilometers away. The commander of the company defending that sector was reporting the results of the shelling over the radio.

“Target hit! The enemy infantry has been repulsed,” the message from the front line came through the headset. “The second shell landed in the middle of their attacking formation. The enemy has about 20 casualties. A beautiful shot.”

“Correct forward five meters! The next shell should land right near the corner of the building. We might get a big fish next time,” the commander ordered the gunner below him, having seen the black smoke rise from his last shot.

After giving the order, he switched channels and spoke to the infantry company command post at the front. “Calling Captain Keitel, the next time they attack the corner, give us a signal, and we’ll fire!”

“No problem!” the voice on the other end replied with a laugh. “If you don’t mind, you can fire now!”

“Fire!” the commander ordered loudly, lowering his binoculars. Boom! The vehicle under his feet shuddered backwards. The long-barreled 75mm cannon fired another shell. The rising smoke made the commander frown. He waved the dust from his face and spat on the ground.

He then raised his binoculars again and looked towards the distant target. Sure enough, a plume of black smoke rose from the exact spot he had predicted. Half of the adjacent building collapsed with a deafening roar, and more dust and smoke billowed up from the shell’s point of impact. It was a spectacular sight.

“Beautiful! A great shot!” the German company commander at the front exclaimed through the headset, his voice accompanied by the roar of machine guns. The fighting at the front seemed to be extremely intense. The frequency of their requests for fire support was a clear indication that the British were attacking with all their might.

“Hey! Lald!” A dozen grenadiers carrying various weapons passed by the ruins, their dust-covered forms looking somewhat ragged. They stopped in front of the assault gun, and their leader, a platoon leader, climbed onto the pile of rubble and shouted to the commander standing on the vehicle, “Got a smoke? Spare a couple for me…”

“Going to the front? Didn’t you guys just pull back?” the commander, Lald, asked, lowering his binoculars with a frown.

“No choice. C-Company is in trouble again. The battalion reserve has been sent to the main front, so we’re all that’s left. If we don’t go, who will?” the platoon leader said with a wry smile, gesturing to his men behind him. “If any of these guys make it back, you can’t refuse them if they ask for a smoke!”

“Deal!” the commander nodded, tossing the young platoon leader most of a pack of cigarettes. “If you run out, come back for more. I’ll give you even more then!”

“We’ll see how lucky we are! I hear the British are attacking fiercely over there. C-Company doesn’t have many men left,” the platoon leader said with a smile, catching the cigarettes. He shook the pack in his hand, pulled one out, and stuck it in his mouth. He waved. “See ya!”

It was an understatement to say they didn’t have many men left. When the young platoon leader, smoking his cigarette, arrived at the position, he finally understood just how brutal the fighting had been. The company of 120 men now had less than 60 still alive. In front of their position lay the bodies of over a hundred British soldiers, and even the wrecks of two M3 tanks.

At a nearby machine-gun nest, an MG42 was in a duel with a British machine gun a hundred meters away. Tracer rounds drew straight lines, striking the earthen parapet and sending black soil flying.

“Corporal! Where’s your company commander? I’m under orders to reinforce him!” he shouted, finding a grenadier who was firing at the British in a crater.

“What did you say? A little louder! My ears are ringing from the shells! I can’t hear you clearly!” the other man yelled back.

“I! Am asking! Where is your company commander?” the platoon leader shouted again.

“Back there! See that collapsed villa? In a crater over there!” the corporal shouted back, continuing to fire his G43.

“Wells! You and your men stay here and help! Cook! With me!” the young platoon leader yelled. He then leaped out of the crater and ran, hunched over, towards the C-Company command post. Behind him, Cook, who had only run a few steps, was hit by a bullet and pitched forward onto the ground, motionless.

The young platoon leader slid into the crater next to the command post, steadied his helmet, and shouted, “C-Company command?”

“Yes!” a second lieutenant, the company commander, replied loudly. “I’ve requested reinforcements three times. Did they finally send just one man?”

“My men are already returning fire over there. Who said I was alone? Cook? Cook…” the young platoon leader shouted back over his shoulder, then peeked his head out to look in the direction he had come from. He saw the body lying on the ground.

He pulled his head back in and said to the C-Company commander with regret, “I brought 13 men. Now there are 12 left.”

“In a moment, you’ll take five men to the left flank! The machine-gun nest over there has been destroyed. They need help,” the company commander said loudly, pointing to a smoking position not far away. “A few minutes ago, they were hit by British artillery!”

“No problem! I’ll take care of it! But you’d better think again!” the young platoon leader said, raising his eyebrows as he lay at the edge of the position. “Are you sure you can handle that guy opposite you on your own?”

Following his gaze, the C-Company commander saw a British tank advancing under infantry cover. It was not one of the numerous American-made M3 tanks, but a British behemoth, a heavily armored Matilda tank.

“Anti-tank team! Prepare for battle!” the C-Company commander yelled. “British tank! Be on high alert! Machine-gun team… move positions!”

“It’s not so easy without a panzer unit leading the way, is it?” the young platoon leader sighed, picking up his MP-44 assault rifle with a wry smile. “Not calling for support? Dealing with that thing won’t be simple.”

“You guys are already here, that’s good enough,” the C-Company commander said with a smile. “Besides, even though we don’t get much attention, we infantrymen… we still have our own pride!”

The novel has already been fully translated up to the final chapter. You can access it on my Patreon at https://www.patreon.com/caleredhair