The battle cry of the Serbian Royal Army rang throughout the mists, echoing like thunder and accompanied by the bellows of the hooves of their steeds. There was no mistaking it-the cavalry was charging at them in full force. Because of this, Bruno gave the order to his men to unleash hell upon them, even if they could not fully see the enemy.
“Open fire!”
If he hadn’t had tinnitus before, Bruno most certainly did now, as did every other soldier standing in the mud and rain as they sprayed lead blindly downrange as quickly as possible. Semi-automatic rifles, combined with the varying rates of fire from the submachine guns wielded by non-commissioned and commissioned officers alike, as well as the relentless machine gun teams, filled the air with a deafening roar.
There was always more ammo and spare barrels awaiting them. In addition to this, mortars of varying sizes fired off into the mist randomly and without direct aim, hoping at the very least that the shrapnel alone would deal some damage to potential enemies.
Evidently, the reckless and wanton violence that the Germans had chosen to unleash upon the voices within the fog had a real effect. Moments after the shots began to ring out, screams of men and horses alike could be overheard-assuming one was not already deafened by the monumental volume of lead they were sending downrange.
Whether by sheer chance or sheer volume, one by one horses emerged from the fog, their riders raising swords and guns alike as they tried desperately to reach the trenches that lay no more than 300 meters in front of them.
It was a plan that might have worked, if not for the preparations the Germans had made in advance. If the barbed wire didn’t snare the old nags and trap them like flies in a spiderweb, then the far more sinister surprise lying just beneath the surface would do them and their riders in.
In fact, the steed of the man leading the charge-or who at least appeared to be, due to the extravagance of his old headwear from a long-forgotten era-was the first to step on a hidden S-mine. Without even understanding what had happened, the legs of his horse were blown out from under it as a mine bounced into the air and burst before the cavalry officer even knew it was there.
The man was thrown from his steed, covered in the blood of the brilliant gelding he had been given for this conflict-as well as some of his own, as, much to his dismay, he found his torso leaking profusely with his bodily fluids. One of the many ball bearings from the detonated mine had struck him, delivering what would be a mortal blow.
Assuming he made it out of this place alive, he would need immediate care if he even wanted a chance of survival. But his fate was here and now, as he stared down at the man wearing the greatcoat, cap, and insignia of a German Generalfeldmarschall.
Bruno was no more than a hundred yards away from the old man who had suffered a rather horrific fate due to his preparations.
Precisely how the old Serbian cavalry officer had managed to penetrate so deep into no man’s land without getting caught in barbed wire or detonating a land mine sooner? Only God truly knew. But one thing was certain: the German general staring at him ended his life then and there with a sinister smirk and a squeeze of the trigger.
Bang.
Bruno had to admit, even he did not know how the Serbian commander had reached so far into his no man’s land with impunity. Fortunately, the man was not protected by plot armor and had indeed fallen to the many land mines hidden in the vast territory outside the trenches, which were filled with barbed wire and such horrific devices.
In fact, the Serbians never really had a chance. Land mines had been developed by Bruno specifically for this war and were currently only being employed on the borders with France and here outside Belgrade.
There were engines of war that could be used to clear these sinister contraptions thoroughly, but that would have to wait until after the battle was over. In the meantime, Bruno shifted his focus from the man he had just killed with a bullet to the head and instead aimed toward one of the other men-screaming and pleading as they were stuck in mud and barbed wire.
Others were too fearful to move forward or back as they saw their comrades already blown to bits by the explosives hidden beneath the surface of the earth. It was truly a fearsome sight, even if one was aware of the existence of land mines.
But this? This was like the earth itself was exploding beneath their feet for no logical or rational reason, as if God himself had decided to mercilessly toy with them in a way they could neither comprehend nor escape from.
Once the Serbian army, or what remained of it after battling the Austro-Hungarians to a Pyrrhic victory, found itself trapped within Bruno’s vast net of death, there was nothing they could do but wait for Death to claim them.
Those who had not yet given up on life tried to return fire against the Germans. But it was a futile task. Many were equipped with old and obsolete weapons, even if they had modern bolt-action rifles issued to the Royal Serbian Army prior to its annihilation at Bruno’s hands. How could they effectively counter a well-fortified and entrenched army equipped entirely with semi-automatic and automatic weapons? A few lucky Serbian soldiers managed to hit a small number of German soldiers whose steel-plated skulls were the only thing exposed above the trench line.
But to claim that more than a hundred German soldiers were injured or died in this engagement? That would be absurd. It was truly a one-sided slaughter that left no dignity to its victims, and that was just how Bruno liked his battles to unfold.
Because of this, the suicidal assault of the Serbian Provisional Army on their occupied capital would live on in infamy as the last great cavalry charge in human history-one far more infamous and tragic than the legendary “Charge of the Light Brigade.”
As often as Bruno had said it over the last decade, today was the day the world realized it was truly the end of an era. And he was front and center to witness its final glory, or lack thereof.
The age of knights and chivalry had gone out with a violent and gruesome death, one that was all too emblematic of what this Great War would come to represent, both in this life and the freёwebnoѵel.com
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