The remaining eight Korshuns tried to hide behind small hills until the German Leopards were close enough to be in range of their sparrow shooters. Dudkov knew he was supposed to keep radio silence before the attack and use flag signals. In the confusion, he violated orders and radioed the surviving vehicles to dismount their infantry. Only one platoon seemed to hear the orders. The Leopards closed to about 500 meters and the Korshuns started firing. Two of the Leopards were hit almost immediately. There was a big flash on the front of their turrets and for a moment, it seemed like they might have been stopped. But then their turrets started traversing, looking for new victims. The lousy little PG-9 rounds had only scorched their laminate armor. The Leopards waded into the Korshuns, firing the whole time. Each time the 120mm gun fired, the ground shook. The tanks were engulfed in a cloud of flash and dust, kicked up by the guns' blasts. But the Leopards had an uncanny ability to see through all this smoke and debris, and still were able to hit the Korshuns with precision. It was a massacre. One after another, five more Korshuns were blown to bits.
Dudkov had managed to reach the regimental tank battalion on radio moments before his own Korshun was gutted. The tank battalion commander, Major Gaipov, responded by sending a platoon of three T-80s to rescue Dudkov's company. They surprised the Leopards and managed to hit two of them in the rear. The surviving infantry watched with glee as two Leopards were left smashed and burning. The other two turned away from the remaining Korshuns and began a losing battle with the Soviet tanks.
Chazov heard Dudkov's radio calls. He sounded frantic. Moments later, he saw the smudges of oily fires over the rise to his right. He continued forward with his company, but a few minutes later his battalion commander, Major Barchuk, radioed him to halt his attack. The ambush had badly disrupted the attack, and one of the other companies had taken stiff losses as well. He was to take his company back to the site of Dudkov's ambush and pick up the survivors.
Chazov left one platoon facing toward the German positions in Geiselhoring and led the other three vehicles back to Dudkov's company. It was easy enough to find the site of the ambush from the billowing plumes of sooty black smoke. Chazov raised Senior Sergeant Vasilev on his radio. Vasilev, the highest ranking survivor from Dudkov's company, was badly shaken up and incoherent. Chazov realized that Vasilev was incapable of leading the survivors. He ordered one of his sergeants to take over command of the remnants of the unit. A couple minutes later, the three surviving Korshuns came up the hill with several soldiers clinging to the rear deck of each. The Korshun was too cramped inside to carry anybody except its own crew. Survivors from the knocked-out vehicles had to be carried on the outside.
The attack on Geiselhoring on 7 October had been a failure. The attack had continued, minus Barchuk's battalion on the left flank. The two remaining BMP battalions, supported by some of the tanks, didn't have the strength to overcome the well-entrenched German defenders. Chazov's company was ordered to take up night defensive positions near a woods five kilometers from Geiselhoring. He was told over the regimental radio net to expect orders at about 1900.
Chazov had his hands full. His company was well positioned for the night, but the morale of the men hadn't been helped by the day's fighting. His own two platoons were in good enough spirits, but the remnants of Dudkov's company were another matter. Chazov called the company zam-polit, Junior Lieutenant Sudro, to his vehicles and ordered him to take over the battered Korshun company. Because one of Dudkov's companies had managed to dismount before their BMPs were destroyed, there were more troops in the company than spaces in the BMPs. Sudro was ordered to sort through the survivors and cull out those who were most obviously shell-shocked. Chazov would worry about them later. He didn't expect the Germans to launch a night counterattack, but he had to keep his men on their toes for such an eventuality. At about 1800, a villiys came down to pick him up for a regimental officers' meeting. He left Lieutenant Sudro in charge.
In the jeep was the commander of the 1st Motor Rifle Battalion, Major Barchuk, and the other surviving company commander, Captain Glebov. Glebov's company had lost four vehicles in the afternoon fighting, mostly to missiles. That left the whole battalion at only half strength, with Chazov's company in the best shape. Major Barchuk said that he expected the attack to be repeated the next morning.
When the officers from Barchuk's battalion arrived at the regimental command post, they saw the usual faces, with a few conspicuous absences. The battalion had suffered heavy losses in the past few days of fighting. The men looked exhausted. They had little chance to bathe or shave, and looked like they could care less. Few had gotten more than a few hours of sleep each night for the past week. There were three officers Chazov didn't recognize. They stuck out due to their clean uniforms. He noticed that one was wearing the branch-of-service collar insignia of the Chemical Warfare Forces. After a bit of milling about, the regimental commander, Colonel Rusak, ordered the men to sit down and he proceeded with his briefing.
"Comrade officers. As you are well aware, the attack against Geiselhoring was not successful.
It is the most essential road junction in our divisional sector. The divisional commander is insistent that we take that village by tomorrow afternoon, at all costs. We cannot expect any reinforcements. We are not the only ones who have had problems on this front. Several of our neighboring divisions have not kept their schedules either. Our artillery preparations have not been as effective as we expected."
There was a murmur of assent from the assembled officers. The artillery preparation against Geiselhoring had been piss poor. It did little more than bounce around the rubble.
'The front commander has ordered the use of chemical weapons to soften up the resistance to our advance."
At the mention of chemical weapons, the officers began to fidget. Rusak then turned to the visiting officers. "Captain Kasparov from division headquarters will continue this briefing."
Kasparov went up to a covered map board and lifted off its canvas cover. It was the normal 1:50,000 scale map of the local area. It was covered with the usual bewildering assortment of colored pencil symbols. Kasparov began.
"Comrade officers. Our artillery preparations have not proven effective in routing out the German troops in Geiselhoring. The Germans are well entrenched in the rubble. We believe they will receive reinforcements tonight. There are about three companies of infantry, supported by about ten Milan antitank missile launchers."
Ten entrenched launchers. Great! Chazov figured that meant two or three in his sector, or one for every three BMPs — not good odds for his men.
"We are planning a gas attack at 0515, followed by your attack at 0530. We will be using Agent AC. Do you remember what AC is?" Kasparov looked around the room. From the sheepish looks he encountered, he knew the answer. "Agent AC is a hydrogen cyanide gas, a nonpersistent blood agent. You inhale it, you die. Two good whiffs in a heavy concentration and you'll immediately become unconscious, You'll be dead in three to five minutes. It acts through the lungs and the bloodstream, not through the skin. So all your troops need to wear is their protective masks, not their slime suits."