Was it a tactical maneuver?
Gao Fei searched his memory banks; he honestly wasn't sure if spinning in circles on the ground counted as one.
Faced with his comrade's question, however, Gao Fei decisively concluded that it had to be a tactical maneuver.
"Yes!"
Gao Fei answered without the slightest hesitation. The penal battalion squad leader looked him over, then gave him a sudden, emphatic thumbs-up. "Impressive!"
Impressive it certainly was—that went without saying.
Andrey entered the machine-gun position, putting a follow-up shot into the head of each dead enemy who had just blocked their way. Then he pivoted the machine gun around and mounted it facing the enemy side.
The penal battalion leader called over to Andrey, "You follow us and keep fighting."
Andrey hesitated.
After thinking for a moment, he suddenly said, "I'm rejoining my unit."
"Your squad is gone! That makes this desertion in the face of the enemy. If you refuse to follow orders, I'll shoot you right now!"
Andrey's brow furrowed, his thin lips pressing into a tight line. With his mouth drawn taut, his face settled into a cold, stern cast that gave off an unmistakable antisocial vibe.
He considered it briefly, then blurted out, "I'm sticking with them. Sticking with them gives me a chance to earn merits."
Admiring the strong was a universal human trait.
At first, they might have simply been headed in the same direction. But after catching Gao Fei's three miraculous shots along the way, Andrey figured throwing his lot in with 1st Squad offered far better prospects.
Nobody knew what had landed Andrey in prison, but he clearly knew how to read people. Behind bars, backing the right boss was a matter of survival.
Whatever Andrey had done, his instincts were razor-sharp.
Sokholov had no objections either way. Right now they needed bodies. Having an extra capable fighter under his command wasn't a bad thing; fighting on would inevitably bring more casualties, and an extra man meant extra strength.
Sokholov was willing to take him, Andrey wanted to roll with 1st Squad, and having voluntarily returned to the fight when he was a wounded man eligible to fall back, he was entitled to a bit of leeway.
Claiming he couldn't find his original unit and chose to keep pushing with the advancing 1st Squad would hold water anywhere.
It all came down to whether this penal battalion leader was willing to agree.
After a brief hesitation, the penal battalion leader nodded. "Fine. Do you have company mortar support?"
The penal battalion let the man go. Forcing Andrey to stay would only make him a liability, and having graciously conceded the favor, the penal battalion leader immediately hoped to gain something in return.
"No. Our company is a light special assault company without its own mortars. In the past, we relied on the battalion mortar company for fire support."
"Didn't your officer just say there were mortars?"
Sokholov exhaled and said in a low voice, "We're getting a detachment of fire from the mortar company—one mortar squad, four sixty-millimeter mortars. They can deliver fairly accurate fire support within a thousand meters."
"Why didn't we have that earlier? If we'd had mortars just now, so many men wouldn't have died."
Sokholov gritted his teeth, his face clouded with gloom. "The chain of command is too rigid. The sixty-millimeter mortars were released down to us too late. If we'd known just a few minutes sooner..."
If they had known a few minutes earlier that they would receive mortar fire support, the 1st Squad leader wouldn't have had to die.
A suicide charge was a desperate measure. Charging only after calling in mortars to pound the enemy position might still cost lives, but it wouldn't be a suicide rush.
The penal battalion leader turned grave. "Wait a moment. When we're fighting, could you... could you help us call in mortar fire?"
Sokholov looked at him in surprise. "You don't have accompanying fire support?"
A shake of the head. Silence.
After a moment's hesitation, the penal battalion leader murmured, "We can only charge behind the creeping barrage in the very first wave. We're real cannon fodder."
In modern combat, heavy artillery support was no longer that crucial here. As powerful as heavy guns were, their effectiveness against fully developed trench networks was limited. If heavy artillery could truly flatten an entire trench system, there would be no need for foot soldiers to slog their way in and brawl with the enemy hand-to-hand.
Besides, heavy artillery couldn't rely on front-line infantry to precisely direct shells onto individual enemy firing points.
An infantryman's closest comrade was still the mortar. Especially in the trenches, rocket launchers lost much of their utility and machine guns had limited impact; only mortar shells plunging directly into trenches along curved trajectories were truly practical.
Of course, there was another weapon that was even more convenient and precise: drones.
Yet Gao Fei and the others couldn't count on fire support from drones.
Right now, drones were in desperately short supply. The few available were treated as precious reconnaissance assets; it was out of the question to expend them as improvised kamikaze drones.
Thus, mortars deployed close to the forward positions were the most reliable, practical, and final means of fire support for all of E Company.
The good news was that they had mortars. The bad news was that there were only four.
The good news was that there were more shells than they could ever fire.
The bad news was that too many sectors on the frontline needed support, and getting fire missions meant waiting in line.
The 4th Assault Detachment possessed a complete fire-allocation system. Sokholov knew how much support he could request, and sparing some for the penal battalion meant others in his own company would have to wait longer, potentially remaining pinned down under enemy fire that much longer.
Resources on the battlefield were exceedingly precious—especially artillery fire. A moment earlier or a moment later was truly the difference between life and death.
Sokholov weighed it for a long while before finally saying, "All right!"
"Thank you. Can we link our comm frequencies?"
Sokholov nodded to Samir Bek, who switched on his walkie-talkie. "What's your frequency? I'll tune in."
Samir adjusted his walkie-talkie and patched into the penal battalion's channel.
Waiting for the fire support to get into position took about ten minutes. They said the mortars would reach their firing positions in three minutes, but once in place, they still had to set up the tubes and verify the positions of the friendly units providing security as quickly as possible.
Still, the mortar squad worked fast. Before long, Sokholov's walkie-talkie crackled to life, and the platoon leader's voice came through: "Mortars are deployed in position. Continue the assault."
No place could be considered safe now. Sokholov pointed toward a trench entrance and said grimly, "Team Three, search and advance. If you encounter the enemy, don't rush to attack. Call in artillery before pushing."
The squad leader had doubled as the leader of Team 3. With him dead and only one man left in Team 1, the entire squad was down to just eight men.
Sokholov glanced at Andrey. "You stick with Team Three."
Nobody spoke; they simply shifted their footing in silence.
Sokholov hesitated for a fraction of a second, then barked, "Everyone stay sharp and protect our firepower core. Move!"
Chapter 32