A man sat in the trenches outside of Saint Petersburg cleaning his spectacles as he gazed through their lenses and towards the besieged city in the distance. After doing this, he looked down at his watch and noticed that the time had come.
He was quick to shift his gaze towards his fellow communist revolutionaries with an approving expression. Rallying them with a speech before giving them the order to charge the enemy defenses, which by now were so battered that they would crumble under the might of the next assault.
“Brothers of the proletariat! The bourgeoisie and their foolish pawns rest on the wealth which they have stolen from us all! They fight not for some noble cause like we do, but to defend their vile actions towards the people of Russia! Today we bring an end to the Tyranny of the Tsar and those wealthy industrialists who have made a fortune off of our labor! For the revolution! For Lenin!”
The man in question was quite to the contrary not a member of the working class despite pretending as much. But rather, he was a man who was born into a wealthy Jewish family from the region of Ukraine. He was, of course none other than Lev Davidovich Bronstein more popularly known by the name of Leon Trotsky.
He had personally chosen to lead the Siege of Saint Petersburg, hoping to achieve a great victory in the city, and in doing so, bring down the reign of the House of Romanov. No doubt entirely unaware that the Tsar and his family had already fled the city before his siege began.
It was a similar lack of intelligence that allowed him to be so confident. He had no idea that the Iron Brigade had arrived with a Regiment of 36 75mm modern field guns, as well as 100 machine guns which had been strategically placed throughout the city’s defenses to ensure that not a single gap was available for the Bolshevik revolutionaries to make use of.
With his barrage having been concluded against the Loyalist defenders, now was the time to charge, and in doing so, end this war before it could continue any longer! With the blow of his whistle, Leon Trotsky announced the charge.
Tens of thousands of the Red Army’s soldiers crawled out of the trenches and ran towards the city of Saint Petersburg and the defenses which the Loyalists had made around it. Trotsky himself smiled gleefully as he saw the overwhelming numbers of Bolshevik revolutionaries rush towards victory.
That is, until the unexpected happened.
—
If Bruno was aware that one of his most hated figures in history was standing in the opposite trench, observing the battle that was about to take place. Then he would have made capturing Trotsky a priority.
But he was unaware that one of the leaders of the Bolsheviks was waiting on the other side of the battlefield. Because of this, prioritizing the city’s defense, and minimizing the casualties of his forces was the strategy which Bruno had opted for.
It was clear that this was going to be the final charge that the Red Army made. They outnumbered the Loyalist defenders significantly and had thoroughly tested the city’s fortifications over the past few months.
Luckily, Bruno and his men arrived just in time to shatter the hopes of the Red Army, and hopefully kill every last man and woman who dared to call themselves a communist. Thus, the moment the 80,000 or so Bolshevik revolutionaries charged towards the city’s fortifications. Bruno gave the command to unleash hell upon them.
The thunder of 36 75mm modern field guns, along with what remained of the loyalists antiquated artillery opened fire on the charges revolutionaries. Battering their mass wave with more firepower than they initially expected to be used against them.
However, the increase in artillery alone would not be able to overcome the odds. And though Trotsky’s heart damn near stopped when he saw the explosions turn his men into meat paste. He ultimately realized that his forces would still be able to break through in the end.
That is, of course until they reached machine gun range. Once the endless sound of 8mm rounds chugging away at his forces appeared. The Bolshevik leader’s eyes opened wide enough that they damn near fell out. All the while his pupils turned as thin as needles.
Just where the hell did the Tsar’s forces get their hands on so many machine guns!?!? No! No! No! Damn it all! How the hell was this even possible!?! Trotsky began sweating bullets as he quickly pulled out his pair of binoculars and gazed upon the enemy defenses.
It was only then he realized who had come to the Tsar’s defense. An enemy he was not expecting to face. The black uniforms of the German Iron Brigade would have been an unknown quantity, if not for the fact that their helmets displayed the banner of the German Reich, while their armbands proudly did the same.
The Germans? Why were the Germans here? Weren’t they at odds with the Tsar? And where did they get so many machine guns? Trotsky’s thoughts were racing as the echo of artillery, machine gun, and rifle fire combined into a symphony of death. All the while his men wailed and screamed as they were torn apart, their blood used to paint the snow where their bodies fell by the wayside.
—
Bruno had not taken a position at the frontline of the city’s fortifications. Though he did finally place his helmet upon his head. He simply observed from a distance further in the rear. No doubt his brothers and his friends were in the front, commanding the individual companies of soldiers who defended the trenches from the Russian onslaught.
But 100 machine guns, firing 500 rounds per minute? Hell, the artillery wasn’t even needed at this point. That was 50,000 rounds a minute flying in the face of 80,000 enemies. All with connected lines of fire.
You see, in the Great War of Bruno’s past life, machine gunners had learned a great trick. All they needed to do was gently tap the handles of the machine gun, and due to its tripod mount it would immediately shift horizontally just enough to deal with any enemies charging from the flanks.
If set up properly and with enough machine guns. One could make sure there was a constant spread of machine gun fire that affected all areas of no-man’s-land. And by continuously using this method it created a sea of death which no man could escape from.
When considering the fact that Bruno had his machine gun teams to specifically practice such tactics repeatedly during the months leading up to this deployment. These men slaughtered the Red Army with little effort as they charged straight into the jaws of death.
When combined with rifle fire from the trenches, the grenades that the Iron Brigade wielded whenever the enemy got close, and the rapid artillery fire of the 36 75mm guns in support. Then the battle was over before it ever really begun.
Bruno had ordered the deaths of 80,000 men give or take. The numbers were slightly less when you considered that the officers of the Red Army hid in the relative safety of their own trenches while sending their soldiers to their deaths.
And he had done so in the span of under ten minutes. After which, Bruno blew his own whistle. While shouting towards the Iron Brigade, who climbed out of their own trenches, and led the charge towards what remained of the Red Army.
“I want the enemy commander captured alive! As for everyone else, do your worst! For Kaiser and fatherland!”
The Russian loyalist soldiers were so bewildered by the slaughter that the German volunteers had unleashed on the enemy, that it took them a few seconds to process that the Iron Brigade was performing a counter charge now that all remained of the enemy were a few hundred officers hiding in their trenches.
And because of this, they were slightly behind the Germans as they too climbed out of their fortifications and charged through the sea of blood and body parts, all while trying to capture the enemy commander who had dared to lay siege to revolt against the Crown.
When Leon Trotsky witnessed what had happened to his army, he soiled himself in fear as he fell to his knees, crying like a bitch. All the while his hands shook, as the earth trembled beneath the charge of 21,000 loyalists. Many of which were fanatically anti-Marxist, and would do horrible things to the officers of the Red Army when they got their hands on them.
Fearing what would happen to him if he was captured alive. Leon reached into his holster and pulled out his revolver. His hands trembled as tried to inspect whether any rounds were in the cylinder. So much so that the weapon fell from his grip and onto the ice within the trench, sliding away from him and the pool of urine he sat in.
The mighty leader of the revolution cried as he got on his knees and crawled after the weapon. Hoping he could get his hands on it before the enemy made it into the trenches. But it was too late. He froze on the spot as gunfire echoed from nearby. While the screams of his officers filled the air.
Either shot by the rifles of the Iron Brigade, or run through by their bayonets. Leon Trotsky found himself surrounded by German soldiers, each of which wore wicked smirks on their faces as they pointed their rifles at one of the primary leaders of the Bolshevik revolution, mocking him in German as they saw the sorry state he was in.
No doubt, when the man was handed over to Bruno he would be delighted to find that one of the men who he hated most throughout history had fallen into his hands. And when this happened, Leon Trotsky would be forced to endure a fraction of the suffering which his victims in Bruno’s past life had undergone prior to their untimely deaths.
