Chapter 461: Last Resort
Just as the Romanian captain and his men established a temporary firing position with sandbags at the entrance, the soldiers of the 3rd Company had already charged to the very last trench outside the command post.
"Clear it with grenades!"
An assault infantryman of the instruction unit shouted.
Then, swinging his arm in a wide arc, he and several comrades around him lobbed a volley of stick grenades in a parabolic trajectory, right over the crude cover, directly into the trench where about a dozen Romanian soldiers were clustered.
"Boom! Boom! Boom!"
Muffled explosions erupted from the trench outside the command post.
The captain and his guards were forced back behind the sandbags by the blast wave. Their ears rang so loudly they couldn't hear anything for a moment.
Before they could even scramble up, the instruction unit soldiers had already charged into the freshly bombed trench, submachine guns leveled.
"Da-da-da-da..."
A dense sweep of bullets tore through. The Romanian soldiers in the trench, still dazed from the grenade blasts, fell into pools of blood before they could do anything.
The final defense line outside the command post was cleared.
A few combat engineers glanced at the straight tunnel outside the command post, waved their hands to signal the others not to rush, and charged forward themselves, carrying flamethrowers on their backs.
"Whoosh!"
Two searing streams of liquid fire blasted fiercely into the trench, instantly igniting everything inside.
Wooden support frames, sandbags, and Romanian soldiers who couldn't dodge in time were all reduced to charred remains amidst agonizing screams.
Flamethrowers displayed terrifying clearing efficiency in this kind of narrow trench warfare.
Although it was indeed somewhat inhumane, one had to admit that after a few bursts of flame, a large area of the trench was completely sterilized.
The battle had entirely lost any suspense.
Inside the precarious command bunker, the communications soldiers were still making a final effort.
"Connected! It's connected!"
The communications soldier cranking the telephone shouted excitedly. He had finally reached the rear positions.
"Quick!"
The Romanian captain guarding the door rushed back immediately, snatched the receiver, and roared into the mouthpiece:
"Rear positions, attention! The enemy's main force is a motorized convoy! They are advancing rapidly along the river valley! I repeat! The enemy's main force is a motorized convoy..."
Before he could finish his sentence, a stick grenade was pitched precisely into the command post.
"Look out!"
The captain's orderly, a young soldier who looked barely in his twenties, saw the grenade roll to their feet and threw himself onto it almost out of instinct.
"Boom!!"
A violent explosion echoed in the confined space. The orderly's body was even momentarily lifted into the air by the blast, instantly lifeless.
Although the others in the command post didn't suffer fatal direct injuries, they were dizzied by the close-quarters explosion, their minds going blank.
Before they could recover, several more stick grenades were tossed in, one after another.
"Boom! Boom! Boom!"
After the continuous string of explosions, the command post fell completely silent. The thick smell of gunpowder and blood wafted out from the entrance.
Model, commander of the 2nd Battalion's 2nd Company, charged in with a cold expression, leading several instruction unit soldiers.
With guns leveled, the soldiers calmly put an extra bullet into every fallen figure in the bunker, regardless of whether they appeared dead or alive.
Just then, a soldier kicked the field telephone on the ground.
Curious, he picked it up, held it to his ear, and found that for some reason, the line hadn't been disconnected.
"Indistinguishable language"
A flurry of urgent foreign language came through the receiver.
The soldier paused for a moment and handed the receiver to Model.
Model took the receiver and listened for a while. His Romanian wasn't very fluent, but he could roughly make out that the other party was anxiously requesting a response.
"It seems the enemy at the next position got some sort of warning after all," Model thought to himself. His face remained expressionless as he crisply hung up the phone.
He knew very well that this meant friendly forces might encounter more stubborn resistance in the upcoming battles.
Model walked out of the smoke-filled command post, climbed onto the edge of the trench, and surveyed the scene unfolding on the position.
The battle on "Number Two" position had ended.
The surviving Romanian soldiers, lined up in files, dejectedly threw down their weapons, put their hands on their heads, and walked out from their hiding corners to gather in a designated clearing.
Instruction unit soldiers stood nearby with guns ready, shouting loudly to maintain order.
The air was thick with the mixed smell of gunpowder, dust, and blood—a scent Model found incredibly familiar.
His gaze swept past the prisoners and looked further down the valley.
There, a massive convoy consisting of hundreds of radiant crystal trucks was speeding relentlessly forward along that narrow, makeshift road.
That was the "Deep Strike Group" commanded by 3rd Battalion Commander Major Steiner.
Their mission was, while Jonathan's "Forward Assault Group" cleared obstacles, to cross the entire river valley at maximum speed and secure the valley exit before the Romanian reinforcements arrived.
It was a race against time.
Watching the gradually receding convoy, Model silently muttered to himself: "You have to make it in time..."
He knew that the phone call he just hung up had likely revealed their true intentions to the enemy. The enemy's final defense line would inevitably try to block them at all costs.
Meanwhile, deep in the Prahova River Valley, on the final defense line of the Kingdom of Romania Army's 2nd Home Defense Brigade, 4th Border Guard Regiment.
In the command post, a commander with the rank of major was pacing back and forth in agitation.
"Still haven't connected?!" he roared at the communications soldier.
"Report, Commander, the line suddenly went dead! We can't get through anymore!"
The communications soldier wiped sweat from his forehead, answering nervously.
Just moments ago, they had received a call from the forward Number Two position.
Although the voice transmission was incomplete because the background noise of gunfire and explosions was simply too loud...
They clearly heard the keywords "motorized convoy" and "rapid advance."
And now, the sudden disconnection of the phone call further confirmed their worst suspicion—the friendly position ahead was likely doomed.
The Romanian major's heart sank to the bottom of the valley.
He knew very well that judging by the enemy's ability to capture the heavily fortified Predeal Pass overnight and break through two defense lines within the river valley so rapidly, this enemy force's combat power far exceeded imagination.
This kind of combat power was far beyond what the Austro-Hungarian Army could muster; it was highly likely the elite forces brought in by the Saxons.
Therefore, the few hundred men under his command, who were essentially "line-filler babies" used merely to flesh out the organizational chart, probably couldn't hold off the enemy for long either.
But he had no path of retreat left...
Based on the phone call and the plaintext telegrams, he already knew an enemy convoy was making a rapid dash.
This also meant that his position was the final gate blocking this "torrent of steel" (or rather, motorized convoy).
Once this place was breached, that mobile force would face no further obstacles and could drive straight into the heartland of the Kingdom of Romania.
As an officer of the Home Defense Brigade who had spent a long time in the border regions, this major was actually an officer with rich combat experience and mettle. It was just that, guarding the final defense line, he truly had no other usable troops at hand.
But even so, a flash of ruthless determination crossed his eyes.
"We must find a way to stall them! Buy time for the friendly forces reinforcing the river valley!"
Thinking it was one thing, but achieving this goal was indeed not simple.
From last night until now, this major had astutely realized that there was an immense gap—even a generational gap—between the Kingdom's Army and the enemy.
So if they simply defended the position methodically, the final result would just be like the friendly units on other positions: kicked to death by this rapidly charging force.
The major sat back down in a nearby chair, his mind racing for other solutions.
And thinking like this, he actually came up with a plan.
This contingency plan, which had been treated as a last resort by the command during pre-war exercises, should theoretically have been the first thing he remembered.
But under this high-pressure environment, the major's mind had indeed become somewhat chaotic.
In fact, the border defense troops stationed in this river valley were not entirely without countermeasures against large-scale enemy surprise attacks.
This tactic was also an emergency measure formulated by the Kingdom of Romania Army Command after noticing the Saxon Army taking the lead in equipping motorized vehicles on a large scale, fearing that one day the enemy would use the same method to attack their homeland.
Corresponding deployments were made not only in the Prahova River Valley but also in the valleys and river valleys extending from several other passable passes nearby.
The specific deployment involved using explosive operations to blow up the mountains, creating massive landslides to completely block the roads and halt the enemy's rapid march.
A trace of absolute resolve flashed across the Romanian major's face. He never thought the day would actually come when he'd have to use this countermeasure, which was tantamount to "mutual destruction."
"Pass my orders!" he shouted to the adjutant beside him. "Have the engineers prepare immediately! Detonate demolition points 1 and 2 on the ridge above us!"
"Commander, do we really have to do this?"
The adjutant was also shocked by this sudden order.
"Once that road is destroyed, we ourselves will also..."
"Execute the order!" the major interrupted him roughly. "We have no way out anyway! Even if we all die here, we absolutely cannot let the enemy convoy pass easily!"
"Yes, sir!"
The adjutant straightened his body, saluted, turned, and ran to relay the order.
However, this was a process that required time.
For safety reasons, the explosives used for demolition were normally stored separately from the detonators and fuses.
Although most of the explosives had been placed at the demolition points in advance, the detonators and such were stored in other secure locations.
So to carry out the demolition operation now, the engineers had to first retrieve the detonators from the warehouse, carefully install them on the explosives at the demolition points, and lay the detonation lines.
After the engineers had been busy for a while, the major simply ran to one of the demolition points and found the busy engineer platoon leader.
"About how much longer?!"
"Report, Commander! At least fifteen to twenty minutes at the fastest!" the engineer platoon leader answered, sweating profusely.
"Twenty minutes..." The major's heart sank again.
Would the enemy give them twenty minutes? Looking at the empty valley ahead, he felt entirely unsure.
No, they couldn't just sit and wait for death.
He thought for a moment, turned to an officer beside him, and said:
"Send two squads forward immediately! Conduct reconnaissance and provide early warning!"
Silence fell over the command post.
Everyone knew that under the current circumstances, with the enemy fast approaching, this mission was essentially a nine-deaths-and-one-life suicide run.
However, this silence did not last long.
No matter what country, no matter what ideology... when disaster strikes, there are always some who step up.
As the order was passed down, a group of veterans on the Romanian position quickly stood up in silence, volunteering for this dangerous reconnaissance mission.
Looking at the silent, resolute backs of these soldiers, the Romanian major felt his throat tighten; for a moment, he couldn't speak a word.
He could only wave his hand heavily, then turned and shouted to his adjutant: "Tell the engineers to speed it up! Everyone, hurry up!"
On the makeshift road along one side of the Prahova River Valley, four radiant crystal trucks were advancing cautiously.
For the four drivers in the trucks, their state of mind while driving right now could be described as quite complex.
They had to concentrate fully on the potholed road ahead, alert to potential skids or landslides at any moment, while simultaneously obeying orders to increase speed by any means possible.
"Pay attention to safety, but you must be fast!"
This was the instruction given by Battalion Commander Major Steiner when issuing the order.
And loaded on these four trucks was the reconnaissance detachment of the "Deep Strike Group," the 3rd Battalion of the instruction unit.
Their main task was to act as the eyes and feelers for the entire battalion, scouting the road ahead and enemy situations for the main force following behind.
Right now, in the cab of the lead truck, the reconnaissance detachment commander, Sergeant Ben, gripped the door handle with one hand to steady himself, while the other hand held open a topographical map, comparing it carefully.
"Sergeant, I think we're almost there."
The driver spoke without turning his head, his eyes glued to a somewhat treacherous curve ahead.
Sergeant Ben nodded. His gaze fell on a crude icon drawn with a red pencil on the route ahead on the map, with the words "Suspected Enemy Position" written next to it.
This was discovered this morning during deep reconnaissance by the last "Taube" reconnaissance aircraft, which hadn't participated in the "CAS" mission.
Due to poor visibility at the time, coupled with the reconnaissance aircraft's limited endurance, the pilot responsible for deep aerial reconnaissance couldn't be one hundred percent certain that it was definitely an enemy position.
But for the reconnaissance detachment, scouting the path ahead was inherently their job. Since there was suspicion, they had to go and verify it.
"Slow down, pull over."
Seeing that they were nearing the target area on the map, Sergeant Ben calmly issued the order.
The driver expertly maneuvered the truck, slowly coming to a halt by the side of the dirt road. The three trucks behind stopped in sequence, the roar of the engines gradually dying down in the valley.
"3rd Squad, 4th Squad, stay behind! Guard the vehicles, establish sentry posts, and guide the follow-up units!"
Sergeant Ben jumped down from the truck and ordered the several squad leaders running over.
"1st Squad, 2nd Squad, follow me! Let's go check out the woods ahead!"
"Yes, sir!"
The orders were executed swiftly.
Sergeant Ben checked the magazine of his MP14 submachine gun himself, then waved his hand, leading the other two squads—twenty soldiers in total—straight into the woods on the mountain slope by the road.
Upon entering the woodland, the soldiers of the two squads quickly spread out to a lateral spacing of over twenty meters. Simultaneously, within each squad, they divided into multiple two- or three-man combat teams.
The soldiers maintained a distance of several meters from each other, completely combing out their formation, advancing with alternating cover.
This not only expanded the search area but also prevented being taken out all at once by the enemy.
The mountain forest was very quiet; only the rustle of wind blowing through leaves and their own soft footsteps stepping on humus could be heard.
After advancing for a while, Sergeant Ben, walking at the very front, suddenly raised his right hand and clenched his fist.
The soldiers behind him reacted like a conditioned reflex, stopping immediately, seeking cover behind nearby tree trunks or rocks, then crouching half-down and raising their guns on alert.
The entire team switched from march to combat readiness in an instant, without making a single superfluous sound.
Sergeant Ben kept low, hiding behind a thick tree trunk, and carefully poked his head out to observe ahead.
He noticed some moving figures in the sparse woods ahead.
Sergeant Ben pulled out the binoculars that were standard issue only down to the NCO level in the instruction unit. Looking carefully ahead, he found it was a unit of Romanian soldiers.
There were about twenty of them, marching rapidly through the woods in two columns.
And the direction these Romanian soldiers were heading was exactly toward them.
"Crap, we bumped into them." Sergeant Ben cursed inwardly.
The good news was, this proved that the Romanian position was indeed just ahead.
The bad news was, it seemed they had no way of sneaking past silently anymore.
Because right now, they couldn't bypass these rapidly approaching Romanian soldiers. As long as the other party kept walking forward, they would inevitably discover them hiding in the woods.
It could be said they were meeting on a narrow path...
"Looks like we have to strike first to gain the upper hand," Sergeant Ben made a split-second decision in his mind.
He lowered his binoculars, turned back to the soldiers behind him, and calmly made a "prepare for combat" hand signal.
The instruction unit soldiers didn't panic in the slightest, flicking off the safeties of their weapons one after another and aiming their muzzles at the path the Romanians were about to cross.
Meanwhile, on the Romanians' final defense line, the major in command was urging the communications soldier to confirm the current location of the reinforcing troops.
Suddenly, fierce gunfire erupted from the direction of the reconnaissance squad he had sent out!
"Da-da-da-da! Bang! Bang! Da-da-da!"
The gunfire was extremely dense, mixed with the crisp, high-speed sound of fully automatic weapons firing.
The major's heart clenched tight.
However, the gunfire didn't last long, perhaps only a dozen seconds or so, before the woods returned to silence, as if everything just now was an illusion.
But the Romanian major knew very well that the two-squad reconnaissance team he sent out had encountered the enemy, and they were likely doomed.
Because that terrifying sound of fully automatic weapons firing just now could only have come from the enemy.
"The enemy is here! And they're right in our faces!" The Romanian major made a rapid judgment.
The Romanian soldiers on the position were also alarmed by the sudden gunfire. They all entered combat readiness, staring nervously at the woods ahead.
"Demolition! How are the demolition preparations coming along?!" The major rushed to the engineer platoon leader and grabbed him by the collar.
"We... we still need five minutes! Commander!"
"I don't care what methods you use! Three minutes!! I'm only giving you three minutes!"
The major's eyes were bloodshot; he had entered a sort of frantic state.
"The enemy has already found us, and they're going to launch an attack very soon! If we can't detonate within three minutes, even if we all die here, it'll be completely worthless!"
The Romanian major's judgment wasn't wrong. Or rather, an officer who had spent years in actual combat on the borders was more or less quite sharp.
When the command vehicle carrying Battalion Commander Steiner arrived at the location where the reconnaissance detachment had stopped, Sergeant Ben had already led his men out of the woods.
"Report, Battalion Commander! Encountered an enemy patrol of twenty men in the woodland ahead, entirely annihilated! No casualties on our side!"
"Judging by the enemy's direction of advance, the position discovered by aerial reconnaissance earlier is indeed in this location."
After hearing the report, 3rd Battalion Commander Steiner glanced at the map, then looked up at the silent mountain forest ahead.
"The moment the gunfire sounded just now, the enemy definitely knew we were here. They will either dig in and wait for reinforcements, or make other moves... We have no time to waste."
He turned and issued an order to the messenger beside him: "Order! 1st Company, 2nd Company, bring up support weapons and enter combat immediately! Pull out this nail in front of us at maximum speed!"
"Yes, sir!"
Steiner knew very well how important the mission resting on his and the 3rd Battalion's shoulders was.
As the "Deep Strike Group," they were the spearhead of the entire Kampfgruppe. Not to mention, they now had to seize the river valley exit at the fastest possible speed to open the path for the Kampfgruppe's follow-up main force.
Any delay could lead to the failure of the entire campaign plan.
So, after issuing the attack order, Steiner thought for a moment and looked at his adjutant again.
"Bring up the two 170mm heavy mortars attached to our battalion!"
As the "Deep Strike Group," the 3rd Battalion was also reinforced with two immensely powerful 170mm heavy mortars.
With such absolute firepower superiority, Steiner had absolutely no intention of playing fancy tactics with the Romanians across the way.
What he intended to do was use the simplest and most brutal method to wipe the opponent's position off the map.
Soon, the muffled sound of artillery echoed in the valley again.
The gunners of the instruction unit, now upgraded to a "Regimental Heavy Mortar Company," moved with practiced ease. Heavy shells were fed into the breeches one after another, then flew howling toward the Romanians' final defense line.
The Romanians on the position instantly descended into hell.
They had just learned of the tragic state of the forward positions being covered by artillery fire, and now, this tragedy fell upon their own heads.
The explosions were deafening. Shockwaves kicked up dirt and scree, raining down like a storm.
The crude bunkers were torn apart like paper before the heavy artillery.
The Romanian major on the position was pinned down by his guards in a relatively sturdy command bunker. He could feel the entire ground trembling violently, dirt constantly rustling down from above.
"How the hell is the demolition team doing?!" he shouted loudly to the adjutant beside him. "Can we detonate yet?!"