newbobooks Chapter 302 Beach
Chapter 302 Beach
The first rainstorm of autumn pelted the Mediterranean, blanketing Sicily with a torrential downpour that cast a hazy haze over the island. While Europe was ravaged by war, the absence of the roar of bombers made the beach at Cape San Marco seem remarkably tranquil under the torrential downpour.
Lieutenant Boscolo stood in his observation post in the bunker, gazing out to sea through binoculars. Rain streamed down his cheeks, icy and biting, intensifying the bitterness in his heart. The soldiers around him also wore a numb expression, languidly sitting together. Some smoked silently, their smoke thickening the humid air; others mechanically cleaned their rifles and ammunition.
"Sir, we've been holding out here for months. Do you think they'll come?" a young soldier asked a seemingly naive question. This question, like a thorn, pierced everyone's heart. Everyone, including Boscolo, hoped the enemy wouldn't come. Veterans who had experienced years of fierce fighting knew all too well that defending in such a place, in such a bunker, would be hell for the attacking enemy, and a grave for the soldiers themselves.
An old soldier couldn't suppress his inner rage. He growled at the young soldier, "Why are you talking so much? Once they come, forget about anything else. Just fire and fire all the ammunition you can!" He then couldn't help but complain, "Damn the weather, damn the Yankees, damn the Brits, and those yellow-skinned pigs from the East!"
Boscolo walked up and patted him on the shoulder, trying to calm him down, but was speechless.
Out in the distance, torrential rain covered the Allied fleet like a thick curtain. Like a behemoth in the darkness, the fleet quietly approached within 10 nautical miles of the coast. Following the fleet commander's command, the massive gun barrels slowly swiveled, coldly pointing toward the invisible yet real enemy on the shore.
"Woo-woo-woo—" The alarm suddenly sounded, sharp and piercing, breaking the tranquility of the beach. This was not a drill, the enemy was really coming! Boscolo didn't have time to think about it. Along with the other officers, he shouted loudly, for the soldiers to quickly get into the bunkers and take up their positions.
Inside the bunker, the atmosphere was tense to the extreme. The soldiers gripped their weapons tightly, their eyes filled with panic and confusion. This would be a battle of life and death, and their final fate...
“Boom boom boom—” The battleship’s massive gunfire roared out of its barrel, carrying scorching flames as it sped toward the beachhead. Then, it crashed headfirst into the water, a terrifying explosion echoing. Wherever it touched—bunkers, rocks, or even the beach—it exploded. A flash of orange light flashed, followed by thick smoke, carrying flying sand and rocks as it soared high into the sky.
Boscoro hid in the lower level of the bunker. He didn't dare to stick to the wall or the ground. The huge shock wave generated by the explosion made his heart surge. He tried to open his mouth as wide as possible and gasped for breath.
The shells continued to rain down, each explosion like the approaching footsteps of death. The barrage continued, showing no sign of stopping. Some soldiers whispered prayers, others wailed, and still others roared hysterically. Boscolo clenched his fists. He hated this senseless slaughter, this damned war, but he was already trapped in it, unable to control himself.
Suddenly, the artillery fire stopped, and the brief lull made everyone nervous. They knew it was just the calm before the storm. Boscolo took a deep breath and shouted, "Everyone, cheer up! Return to your positions and shoot at the enemy! Remember, the most important thing now is to stay alive. Don't think about anything else!"
Although his words were firm, they could not hide the deep-seated war-weariness. At this moment, they were isolated graves on this beach, waiting for the final judgment of fate.
"GOGOGO!" On the landing craft, the American captain kept yelling to the soldiers. The hidden coastal artillery of Germany and Italy had been exposed, and huge water columns were rising from the sea from time to time. At this moment, his whole body was soaked, but he could not care about these. He had to release a platoon of soldiers on the boat as soon as possible, and then go back quickly. He didn't know if he would be lucky, and how many times he would shuttle across this beach today.
Lin Fan and his platoon were the first to reach the beach. The various enemy obstacles on the beach now became their only hiding place. They needed to move forward as quickly as possible. The tide would soon rise, submerging these obstacles. They had to find better cover and advance deeper before the tide came up.
The enemy's artillery fire and hail of bullets had already blocked the entire beach. Lin Fan and his men took turns providing cover, rushing from one obstacle to another. During this time, comrades continued to fall, but they had no time to stop and rushed forward without hesitation...
"Damn it! Why are there so many bunkers?" the commander of the 203rd Division shouted angrily to the US Navy liaison officer beside him on a destroyer. The liaison officer shrugged, making a helpless gesture.
"Contact General Pace, this won't work! We need fire support!" the division commander shouted. The liaison officer didn't dare to say anything more and quickly called through the walkie-talkie!
Ignoring the incoming coastal artillery fire, the three gunboats closed in, fiercely firing at the exposed firing points. The Marines already ashore also took the opportunity to set up their mortars and unleash a hail of smoke bombs. Taking advantage of this brief cover, Lin Fan and his men seized the opportunity and bravely rushed to a tidal break on the beach. From there, they were only a little over 200 meters away from the enemy's bunkers and positions. They quickly removed the small shovels from their waists and diligently dug into the bunker.
After about 30 minutes, the first wave of landing troops finally gained a foothold. Lin Fan looked back at the blood-red sea water and the bodies of his comrades floating in the waves, and couldn't help but shed tears.
In the battleship's operations room, Vice Admiral Pace, along with his chief of staff and Commander Bao Lunhui of the Chinese 22nd Army, listened attentively to the 22nd Army's chief of staff's report on the landing sites. All four landing sites they were responsible for had been successful. The first wave of landing troops had secured a foothold, and the second wave had begun its march. Tanks and flamethrowers were urgently needed to land as quickly as possible to knock down the remaining bunkers and open passages into the depths.
The rainstorm had stopped, and air force planes roared upward. The enemy's coastal artillery was bombarded with targeted bombardments, greatly reducing the threat to the beaches and landing craft. The speed of the troops landing was accelerating. Pace and others seemed to see the hope of victory.