Chapter 141: Madrid Changes Hands
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“Woooo… woooo…” Mixed with the sound of turbulent air, the piercing shriek made one’s hair stand on end. Even on the streets of Madrid, filled with the sounds of guns and cannons, it was still so distinct and ear-splitting.
“Watch the sky! Enemy planes!” a Republican officer shouted, pointing to the sky to warn his comrades. However, he had just exposed his head and was hit by a burst of machine-gun fire. He fell backward into the trench, his face covered in blood, his body still trembling.
The Stuka dived at an almost vertical angle, accurately dropping a bomb on the Republican position. With a huge explosion, rubble and shattered glass flew everywhere, mixed with arms and fingers, sending the crowded Republican soldiers in the trench to heaven.
The Stuka bomber dropped its bomb and pulled up, climbing high into the sky, while the anti-aircraft fire from the ground furiously shot back at the plane’s tail. Ammunition from all kinds of machine guns and rifles was sprayed into the sky as if it were free. But what awaited them were the Spanish Air Force’s He-51s, flying at low altitude to provide cover for the Stukas.
“Comrades! Watch your front! Those bastards from the Nationalist army are coming up again!” a machine gunner shouted, looking at the officer who had fallen beside him. He adjusted the steel helmet on his head, looked at the dark mass of advancing Nationalist soldiers, and yelled, “Let’s give them a taste of what we’ve got!”
“Crack!” A rifle shot rang out, followed immediately by a second. Then the machine guns also began to roar. The position, which had fallen silent due to the bomb dropped by the Stuka, immediately became noisy again. The Spanish Republican Army had forged an unbreakable position with their flesh and blood.
“Hello? Is this 2nd Company? This is battalion command! Yes… yes… You’ve taken the position? Very good! Hold it until I give you new orders! You can arrange for your men to rest… but you must ensure the security of the position! Alright! Heil Führer!” a battalion commander of the 2nd SS Panzer Division’s grenadier regiment commanded into his walkie-talkie.
He then put down the handset, walked over to an officer who was sitting in his command post looking at a map of Madrid, and reported at attention, “Lieutenant Colonel! Our forces have taken the prominent hotel in the fifth district. A squad from the 2nd Company is setting up defenses in that area.”
“What are the casualties? The enemy launched some local counter-attacks this afternoon. I hear the Nationalists had 54 killed,” the SS lieutenant colonel asked, taking a sip from his water cup.
“Report. Yesterday, our battalion had 3 killed and 19 wounded,” the battalion commander said with great pain. “To be honest, the Nationalist army is nowhere near as brave and tenacious as the Republican army. They are only able to win because of new equipment and us.”
“To tell you the truth, we are still not used to this endless war of attrition in the city. In the open field, the 2nd SS Panzer Division can advance dozens of kilometers or more every day, with negligible losses. But on the streets of Madrid, the same losses only get us a few insignificant streets,” the lieutenant colonel sighed.
As if he had suddenly remembered something, he asked again, “What about our hunter-killer teams? How are they performing in the city?”
“The performance of the hunter-killer teams is as good as ever. In the city, they are like they’re in heaven,” the battalion commander’s expression brightened as he mentioned the hunter-killer teams. “In their report yesterday, they said they had killed at least 49 Republican soldiers and officers. However, we are unable to verify most of these results.”
“There’s no need to risk verifying these results. Those who lie about their achievements all end up dead in the end, because every time they exaggerate their performance, their superior will send them to a more dangerous place next time,” the lieutenant colonel said with a wave of his hand and a smile. “That’s no different from slow suicide.”
“Lieutenant Colonel, it is worth noting that some snipers have also appeared among the Republican forces. One of our men was killed by an enemy sniper,” the battalion commander continued his report. “They are learning our tactics, and very quickly. I think once the war gets bogged down in attrition, they will train even more snipers.”
The lieutenant colonel gave a bitter smile. “There’s nothing to be done about that. We can lure our opponents into doing the wrong things, but we can’t stop them from doing the right things.”
In the distance, the shelling began again.
“Franco suspects that there is a Republican command post here. They are shelling the area they suspect,” the lieutenant colonel said, tapping on the map. “However, General von Bock thinks the enemy’s command post should be in our direction of attack. So I’ve brought seven tanks. This afternoon, they will cooperate with your troops to capture this school here. Hopefully, we’ll gain something.”
“I heard that there are some problems back home now, that small-scale rebellions are happening in some areas… is that true?” the battalion commander finally asked the question that was weighing on his mind. “Some of the new replacements say that the Führer is liquidating the Junker aristocrats, which is causing instability in the army back home.”
“It’s true. There’s no hiding it,” the lieutenant colonel snorted. “My family has already sworn to stand with the Führer. Those disrespectful fellows will naturally be eliminated one by one.”
“But I heard from the logistics department that the chaos back home has affected ammunition production, and there are problems with the mines as well. Are the methods too drastic? The number of barrels and ammunition supplied to our battalion is somewhat insufficient. Some of the ammunition we have here now is brass-cased rounds imported from Italy.”
“You should be content. The 2nd Panzer Division, being farther away, has been using poor-quality Spanish-made ammunition and machine gun barrels all along. The problem with shell extraction is quite serious. It wasn’t until they took Barcelona a few days ago that they received a batch of supplies,” the lieutenant colonel was clearly also worried about supplies. “General von Bock has already sent a telegram to the Führer, requesting that he meet the weapon supply needs of the front-line troops.”
“Is it really that serious?” the battalion commander sighed. “Then the replacement of the hand grenades this time wasn’t because of a shortage of materials, was it? They even got rid of the wooden handle, leaving only the warhead, and the surface is segmented into squares. It looks much cruder than the old grenades we used before.”
“This time, you’re mistaken,” the lieutenant colonel said with a smile. “General von Bock has seen the performance report of the new hand grenade. It is indeed a bit stronger than the old model. Although the throwing distance is about 10 meters shorter, the cost has been reduced by 20%, and the production speed has increased by 70%. Just this improvement alone will allow you to use twice as many hand grenades as before. So, is it good or bad?”
“It would be great if the fuse was improved as well,” the battalion commander said with a smile, scratching his head a little sheepishly, still not satisfied.
The lieutenant colonel pointed at the battalion commander with a smile. “You! I hear they are indeed improving it, but I just don’t know what the effect will be.”
Thinking of the turmoil back home, the battalion commander was a little worried. “I hope our hometowns are alright.”
“They will be fine! Don’t worry!” the lieutenant colonel said, patting the battalion commander’s shoulder. He pointed to the door. “I have to go back to the main command post this afternoon, so I won’t linger here. Looking at the situation, if your attack this afternoon is successful, you should be able to drive the Republicans out of Madrid by tomorrow.”
“Heil Führer!” the battalion commander saluted.
“Heil Führer!” After saying this, the lieutenant colonel turned and walked out of the frontline battalion command post.
That afternoon, the attack began.
The characteristic wood-cutting sound of German machine guns began to appear on the battlefield. The assistant gunner fed the ammunition belt into the machine gun. The bullets flew out with spitting flames toward their target, instantly cutting down several Republican soldiers who had exposed their heads to return fire.
The tank tracks churned up mud and dust as they rolled forward, covering the infantry behind them as they cautiously leaped from one crater to another. The Panzer IIIs had sandbags and spare road wheels hanging on their fronts—”add-on armor” that the tank crews had installed themselves, hoping these things could save their lives at a critical moment.
From behind a low wall, the German soldiers opened fire with all their weapons, kicking up a cloud of white smoke on the opposite position. Most of the infantrymen ducked back behind the wall after firing, began to work the bolts on their Mauser 98K rifles to reload.
One soldier’s rifle jammed. He had to turn it upside down and use his boot to kick the bolt handle to eject the stuck cartridge, as his arm strength was not enough to pull open the stuck bolt. After a great deal of effort, he finally fixed his rifle and began to fire at the enemy again.
Due to a lack of copper ore, Germany had been forced to promote the use of steel-cased ammunition domestically. This type of ammunition could not be stored for long and was more prone to jamming than brass-cased ammunition. However, the advantage was that it could be manufactured more quickly and could make up for the insufficient production of brass-cased ammunition. Although it affected its use to some extent, most soldiers had grown accustomed to these rather troublesome bullets.
Another attack began. Shells tore through the sky, turning a school building in the distance into a ruin. Glass shattered, walls collapsed, and the Republican machine gun nest that had been firing nonstop from inside was directly destroyed. A dozen bodies were scattered around. When the German soldiers passed by, hunched over, no one gave them a second glance.
In the ruins, the tattered battle flag of the Republican Ernst Thälmann Battalion was buried under the rubble. A German war correspondent with a camera took a picture of several passing German soldiers to record their achievements. Their faces were smeared with dirt, but they were smiling happily, showing their white teeth, not paying the slightest attention to the explosions and rolling smoke in the distance.
The battle was much easier than expected. That afternoon, Franco’s army announced that it had taken control of the entire city of Madrid. Although resistance was still ongoing, and the sound of sniper fire could still be heard occasionally for another two weeks, organized resistance had indeed been eliminated. The Republican army had withdrawn from its half-ruined capital city, Madrid
