novelSusiti Chapter 232 The Turks' Hell
Chapter 232 The Turks' Hell
Major El urged his warhorse forward, leading the procession.
His eight hundred soldiers were the pride of the empire. Dressed in crisp German uniforms and armed with the latest Mauser rifles, each of them radiated an ambition to achieve great deeds.
The chase has lasted for more than two hours.
They followed the trail left by the fleeing Greek soldiers, venturing deep into the hilly region of the Pindus Mountains. At first, they found discarded ammunition boxes, canteens, and even one or two broken rifles in the mud. These traces constantly fueled their desire to pursue them.
The further they went, the narrower the road became, and the denser the forests on both sides. Tall trees blocked out the sky, casting large swaths of shadow. The group stretched into a long snake, winding along the rugged mountain path.
The march of the column slowed down.
The soldiers began to look around anxiously. Their initial excitement was replaced by an inexplicable sense of unease. Ahmed's warhorse also began to paw restlessly and snort intermittently.
"Reporting, Major!" A scout ran back from the front, his face filled with confusion. "The trail... the trail has gone cold."
El pulled on the reins, and the whole column came to a stop.
He dismounted and walked to the spot the scout had indicated. The last few footprints on the ground disappeared completely around a small bend. The hundred-odd Greek soldiers had vanished into thin air in this deep forest.
Not right.
A feeling of being watched came from all directions. The forest was eerily quiet; not even a bird could be heard.
El looked up at the high slopes on either side, where the forest was dense and the leaves were thick, obscuring everything. Yet, a chill ran down his spine, and his whole body tensed.
"Halt!" His voice echoed through the silent valley. "Reconnaissance platoon! Conduct a fan-shaped search of both slopes! The rest of you, establish a circular defensive perimeter!"
His order came too late.
The moment he finished speaking.
A piercing, sharp whistle shattered the silence of the valley from the top of the hillside on the left.
The sound did not belong to a human; it was more like the mournful howl of some wild beast on its deathbed.
El suddenly looked up.
He saw it.
Behind the dense treeline on both sides of the hillside, black dots were forcefully hurled from a height. Those dots traced hundreds of parabolic arcs in the air, trailing wisps of blue smoke.
It's a grenade!
Hundreds of grenades!
Al's pupils constricted sharply!
"Take cover!!" He let out a final roar with all his might.
The next second, the world turned into a symphony of fire and steel.
Rumble—!
The continuous explosions engulfed everything in the valley.
The densely packed marching formation became the perfect target. Grenades rained down on the crowd, the blast waves tossing soldiers into the air like dolls before slamming them heavily to the ground. Hot shrapnel, with unstoppable force, pierced through flesh and blood.
The screams and wails were completely drowned out by the continuous explosions.
El was thrown to the ground by the massive blast of air, his ears ringing, unable to hear anything. He struggled to lift his head, and the scene before him made his blood freeze.
His elite troops, the glory of his empire, were torn open in a bloody manner in that instant.
The sound of the explosion had not yet completely subsided.
Behind the desolate treeline on both sides of the valley, countless dark gun barrels suddenly appeared.
Da da da da!
The crisp, continuous sound, like the sound of a chainsaw cutting wood, rang out from all directions!
The Greeks! It's an ambush!
The permanent machine gun emplacements on the flanks spat out long tongues of fire. Whirlwinds of bullets swept across the narrow valley floor. The Ottoman soldiers had no room to hide in the cramped valley. Crowded together, they became the most concentrated live targets.
An Ottoman officer attempted to draw his sword to organize a counterattack, but several bloody flowers instantly bloomed on his chest, and he fell backward.
A soldier tried to hide behind a rock, but bullets chased after him, shattering the rock and turning his body into a mangled mess.
"Fight back! Fight back!" Ahmed roared in a hoarse voice as he drew his pistol and fired wildly toward the hillside.
However, his soldiers were completely stunned.
They couldn't find the enemy; all they could see were the flashes of gunfire on the hillside. With each flash, a comrade fell beside them.
This is not a battle.
This is a massacre.
"Retreat! Get out of the valley!!" Ahmed's voice was choked with sobs.
However, their escape route has also been blocked.
Behind them, a barrage of gunfire and grenade explosions rang out.
Al was in despair. He understood.
From the moment they stepped into this mountainous region, they entered a massive tomb tailor-made for them.
On the hillside, a bearded Greek militia commander, dressed in hunter's leather armor, calmly lowered his rifle. He grinned at a regular army company commander beside him.
"These pampered city kids are easier to kill than wild boars from the mountains."
The company commander didn't smile; he simply gave the new orders to the messenger.
"Signal man, give the signal! It's time to close the net!"
As the order was given, the machine gun positions, which had been unleashing a barrage of fire, rhythmically ceased firing.
The stern bugle call to charge echoed through the valley.
This time, it was the Greeks' charge.
Hundreds of Greek regular soldiers, armed with rifles with bayonets, launched a counter-attack from various exits of the valley.
Surrounding them were many more local mountain people, armed with hunting knives, axes, and even pitchforks. They were members of the "Thessaly Local Self-Defense Corps," the true masters of this land. They knew every stone and every tree here.
They emerged like ghosts from angles unimaginable to the Ottoman soldiers, from cliffs and dense forests.
The remaining Ottoman soldiers were completely devastated.
They threw down their rifles, knelt on the ground, and raised their hands.
But what awaited them was the cold bayonet and the vengeful fury of the mountain people.
Major Al watched his soldiers being killed one by one. His eyes were bloodshot. He threw away his empty pistol and drew his saber, a symbol of officer's honor.
"For the Sultan!"
He let out a tragic roar and charged toward a Greek officer who was at the forefront.
The Greek officer calmly raised his short-barreled carbine.
boom!
El's charge came to an abrupt halt.
A fist-sized hole appeared in his chest.
He looked down at his chest, then looked up at the gray sky.
The sword in his hand clattered to the ground.
Less than an hour.
This meticulously planned ambush thus came to an end.
The eight hundred elite soldiers who carried the "Great Turkic Dream" were all annihilated.
Wolf Howling Valley returned to silence.
In the valley, only the overwhelming stench of blood and hundreds of curled-up, still-warm corpses remained.