Chapter 1371
The All-Out Offensive Begins in Titrick
Chapter 1371 The All-Out Offensive Begins in Titrick
Forty hours passed quickly.
Countdown: 00:00:00
Inside the command center, the moment the red numbers on the electronic countdown clock reached zero, the world fell into an eerie silence.
Song Heping stood in front of the central command console, his right hand on the transmit button of the encrypted communicator, and the second hand of the military watch on his left wrist pointing exactly to the scheduled time.
"Operation Thunder Sweep, commence."
His voice was calm.
The order for the general offensive was immediately transmitted via military satellite channels to every command post, every armored vehicle, and every infantry platoon of the attacking forces.
The eastern route is 12 kilometers east of Tikrit.
Samir stood beside the command vehicle, gazing at the distant sky.
At six in the morning, the sky was still dark blue, but the eastern horizon was already beginning to turn white.
He picked up his field binoculars and aimed them at Tikrit, twelve kilometers away.
The city skyline looked like a row of jagged teeth in the morning light.
"Artillery group." He gave the order into his throat microphone: "Plan One, full charge, rapid fire."
Three seconds later, the world was torn apart.
The first to fire were the twenty-four 2S3 "Acacia" 152mm self-propelled howitzers of the Eastern Front Artillery Group.
The fireballs spewed from the muzzle brakes were particularly dazzling in the pre-dawn darkness, their orange-red light instantly illuminating the entire artillery position.
The deafening roar of the shell leaving the barrel was like a giant striking the earth with a hammer, and the shockwave made the command vehicle beneath Samir's feet tremble.
Then came a salvo from twenty-four D-30 towed howitzers on the western flank. These artillery pieces fired at an even faster rate, their shells tracing paths through the air like the threads of death, densely swarming towards the eastern district of Tikrit.
The rhythm of the shelling was carefully calculated.
The first round uses smoke and illumination grenades to target drones and observation aircraft; the second round uses high-explosive grenades to destroy surface fortifications and exposed defensive positions; the third round uses incendiary grenades to cover the interiors of buildings.
Samir looked at his watch: 6:01.
The first salvo of shells landed.
On the edge of Tikrit's eastern district, a series of orange-red fireballs exploded from the ground, like the hinges of the gates of hell turning.
The explosion illuminated the entire block in an instant, and buildings collapsed like paper in the shockwave.
Smoke and dust rose up, forming a gray-black smoke wall hundreds of meters high.
"The drone footage has been transmitted back."
The staff officer inside the car shouted.
Samir jumped back into the car.
On the screen, the U.S. military's MQ-9 Reaper drones transmitted real-time images via a shared data link.
The sandbag fortifications on the outskirts of Dongcheng District were blown to pieces, and several concrete machine gun bunkers were directly hit by 152mm shells, with their roofs blown off.
On a street, five trucks modified from 1515 suicide bombs are burning. The fuel tank of one of them explodes, sending flames shooting thirty meters into the air.
"Targets identified: East District Power Plant, Waterworks, Communications Tower," Samir ordered. "Second round, high-explosive fragmentation shells, saturation fire."
"Yes!"
At 6:03, the second round of shelling began.
This time it's rocket artillery.
Eighteen BM-21 "Hail" 122mm multiple rocket launchers fired simultaneously, and all forty launch tubes on each vehicle were emptied within fifteen seconds.
Seven hundred and twenty rockets, trailing orange-red flames, ascended into the sky, weaving a web of death across the heavens.
Rockets have a flatter trajectory than howitzers, and the sound they make when they land is more intense and piercing.
It was a dense rain of steel.
Each rocket is filled with hundreds of pre-formed fragments, which create a metal storm with no blind spots within a radius of fifty meters when it explodes.
In drone footage, the streets of Dongcheng District have been transformed into slaughterhouses.
Those 1515 militants who didn't have time to take cover fell like mowing grass under the barrage of rockets.
Shrapnel tore through the human body, splattering large patches of blood on the wall.
On the rooftop of a four-story building, a machine gun emplacement was directly hit, and three gunners, along with their PKM general-purpose machine guns, were blown to pieces.
"Third round." Samir glanced at his watch: "Incendiary bombs, targets: underground bunker entrance and suspected command post."
6:05.
Only twelve 2S9 "Nine-Tone" 120mm self-propelled mortars fired this time. The incendiary shells fired by these guns exploded in the air, scattering thousands of small incendiary particles into the target area.
Drone thermal imaging showed that the internal temperature of buildings around the point of impact rose sharply.
Those who hid in basements and fortified bunkers, even if they weren't burned to death directly, would suffocate from the high temperatures and thick smoke.
"Armored units, advance!"
After the shelling, Samir gave the order for a ground offensive.
On the eastern front, the engines of tanks and infantry fighting vehicles roared simultaneously.
at the same time.
The western route is located 8 kilometers west of Tikrit, on the edge of the desert.
Commander Nassin of the Holy City Brigade crouched in his observation post behind a sand dune, the outline of the western district of Tikrit gradually becoming clear in the dawn light through his night-vision binoculars.
His 6,000 Quds Force soldiers had established a blockade line five kilometers deep, but the desert terrain was too open, and the defenses still had gaps.
The U.S. military airdropped night vision equipment on time, but soldiers needed time to adapt to the new equipment.
"The artillery has begun shelling on the eastern front," the adjutant whispered.
Nassin glanced at his watch: six o'clock sharp.
The eastern sky was already stained dark red by the gunfire, as if the sunrise had arrived early.
“Let our men prepare,” he said. “If the 1515 men choose to break out, the western front is their preferred route. It’s easy to maneuver in the desert, and it’s only 150 kilometers from the Sirian border.”
Before the words were even finished, an urgent report came through the radio: "A convoy has been spotted at checkpoint number 3! At least twenty pickup trucks, coming out of the city at high speed!"
Nassin grabbed the binoculars and looked in the direction of checkpoint 3.
That was a pass at the northernmost end of the blockade line, with natural rocky hills on both sides and only a two-hundred-meter-wide passage in the middle.
Through the green field of vision provided by the night vision goggles, a long string of car headlights emerged from the west gate of Tikrit.
Some of the pickup trucks had heavy machine guns or rocket launchers mounted on their backs, and some were even "suicide vehicles" fitted with steel plates.
"Let them into firing range," Nassin calmly ordered. "Anti-tank teams, prepare to lock onto the lead vehicle. Machine gun positions, await my orders."
The convoy was getting closer and closer, and the figures of the people in the vehicles could be seen clearly.
Each vehicle was crammed with militants, some brandishing guns, others crouching behind machine guns on the roof.
Distance: 2 kilometers.
Nassin could see a DShK 12.7mm heavy machine gun mounted in the back of the lead pickup truck, its muzzle gleaming coldly in the darkness.
one kilometer.
"Missile team, fire!"
Three Tufan anti-tank missiles were launched simultaneously.
This Persian copy of the Dongda "Red Arrow-8" missile uses wire guidance, requiring the shooter to keep the target locked through the scope throughout the entire process.
Three beams of light traced dazzling trails in the pre-dawn darkness, heading straight for the three pickup trucks at the front of the convoy.
The first missile struck the engine compartment of the lead pickup truck.
The high-temperature metal jet generated by the shaped charge warhead instantly penetrated the engine and detonated the fuel tank.
The pickup truck turned into a fireball, tumbling and crashing into the roadside, throwing the five people inside into the air.
The second missile hit the driver's cab of the second vehicle.
The jet pierced the windshield, vaporizing the upper bodies of the driver and passenger.
The vehicle went out of control and crashed into a rock on the side of the road.
The third pickup truck tried to dodge, but the missile, controlled by the shooter, arced through the side of the truck bed.
The explosion shredded the seven militants in the vehicle along with their rocket launchers into pieces.
"Fire!" Nassin shouted.
The machine gun positions along the blockade line opened fire simultaneously.
The 7.62mm bullets from the PKM general-purpose machine gun, the 12.7mm bullets from the DShK heavy machine gun, and the RPG-7 rockets also began to be fired, rushing towards the convoy like a storm.
Pickups were being destroyed one after another.
A 12.7mm bullet can easily penetrate the thin body of a pickup truck and turn the people inside into mincemeat.
An RPG hit a pickup truck fully loaded with ammunition, triggering a secondary explosion and sending a fireball more than 20 meters high.
But there are too many people with 1515.
Ignoring the casualties, the vehicles behind accelerated forward.
Some militants jumped out of their vehicles and, using the terrain for cover, fired at the blockade line.
"They wanted to use suicide cars to clear the way!"
The adjutant pointed into the distance and shouted loudly.
Three heavily modified trucks burst out from the back of the convoy.
The front of these vehicles was welded with thick steel plates, and the windows were also sealed with steel plates, leaving only narrow observation gaps.
Each vehicle was filled with explosives.
"Don't let them get close to the defensive line!" Nassin roared, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. "All firepower, concentrate on those suicide trucks!"
The anti-tank missile was launched again.
The first bullet hit the front of the lead truck, but struck the armored sloping surface.
Ricochet!
The truck just wobbled and continued to accelerate.
The second missile hit the tire.
The truck's right front tire burst, causing the vehicle to go out of control and veering off the road at an angle. However, the driver struggled to maintain control and continued heading towards the roadblock.
There are only 500 meters left.
"javelin!"
Nassin shouted into the radio.
The Quds Force only has four US-made Javelin anti-tank missile launchers, which are among the weapons provided by the US military in this airdrop, and can be considered "unofficial aid".
Now, these weapons have come in handy.
The Javelin missile employs a top-attack mode.
After the shooter locks onto the target, the missile will first climb vertically to a height of 150 meters, and then dive down at a near-vertical angle to attack the top, the weakest point of the armor.
The first "javelin" has been launched.
The missile traced a high arc in the air before swooping down like an eagle, striking the roof of the out-of-control truck.
The top-attack "javelin" was indeed more effective than the Persian imitations.
The shaped charge warhead penetrated the thin roof armor and detonated the explosives inside the vehicle.
The explosion's light blinded Nassin instantly, even though he was wearing night vision goggles.
The shockwave swept across the entire battlefield, knocking everyone within a hundred meters of the blast point to the ground.
The truck disappeared, leaving behind only a crater ten meters in diameter.
But the other two suicide trucks were still charging.
"Again! Take them all down!"
The remaining three javelins were all fired.
Two shots hit, blowing one truck to pieces and detonating the explosives in the other, but it was still 300 meters from the defensive line, killing only a few 1515 militants who had rushed too far ahead.
The third missile malfunctioned and self-destructed in mid-air.
The last suicide truck sped past 300 meters, the driver flooring the accelerator, and the truck, like a crazed steel beast, charged toward the main position of the blockade line.
One hundred meters away.
Nassin could see the distorted face in the cockpit, the person shouting something—perhaps a prayer, perhaps a curse.
Fifty meters.
The soldiers on the position began to retreat, but it was too late.
Nassin closed his eyes.
A massive explosion rang out, not once, but three times in succession—the suicide truck detonated, triggering a chain reaction that detonated the landmines laid in front of the position, and then the ammunition pile.
When Nassin opened his eyes, several positions on the first line of defense were no longer there.
The area became a burning crater, with at least twenty soldiers killed and many more wounded.
However, the breakout team of 1515 also suffered heavy losses.
More than 20 vehicles were destroyed, and at least 200 people were killed or injured.
The remaining vehicles turned around and fled back into the city.
“Take stock of the casualties and reinforce the defenses,” Nassin’s voice was hoarse. “They will come again.”
He looked eastward, towards Tikrit. The shelling on the eastern front continued, and the entire city was ablaze.
It's almost bright.
The northern route, north bank of the Tigris River.
Abuyu stood on the turret of a T-72 tank, looking at the northern part of Tikrit across the river.
The shelling has been going on for ten minutes.
The main targets in the northern district—the government building, the police station, and the television station—have all been bombarded.
Drone footage shows that these buildings have either collapsed or are burning fiercely.
But Abuyu knew that the real battle had not yet begun.
The 1515 militants operated in Titrick for over two years, turning it into a massive fortress.
The streets were blocked off with barricades, trenches were dug between buildings, and snipers were lurking behind the windows of every high-rise building.
Even more deadly are those underground passages—three known ones, and possibly many more unknown ones.
"First Armored Company, begin crossing the river," Abuyu ordered.
Engineering units have already erected three pontoon bridges across the Tigris River.
Each bridge can only support the weight of one tank, making the crossing process slow and dangerous.
The first T-72 cautiously drove onto the pontoon bridge.
The 50-ton weight caused the pontoon bridge to sink deep into the water, but the engineers' design was solid, and the bridge remained stable.
The tank slowly drove towards the opposite bank.
The tank commander had half his body sticking out of the turret, observing the streets on the opposite bank through binoculars. The gunner, meanwhile, scanned every window through his sight, his finger resting on the firing pin.
The crossing went so smoothly it was unsettling.
The first tank safely reached the other side and quickly drove into a ruin for cover.
Then came the second one, the third one...
When the sixth tank drove onto the pontoon bridge, the other side finally reacted.
"Anti-tank missile!" the observation post screamed.
A missile trailing white smoke flew out of a fourth-floor window of a five-story building in the northern part of the city.
It is the 9M133 "Kornet", a second-generation anti-tank missile manufactured in Russia, with a range of 5,000 meters and an armor penetration depth of 1,000 millimeters.
The T-72's frontal armor was only 480 millimeters thick.
"Smoke grenade! Take cover!" Abuyu shouted.
The tank commander also noticed the threat and immediately fired a smoke grenade.
Milky white smoke exploded around the tank, forming a barrier. At the same time, the driver sharply turned the steering wheel, attempting to maneuver the tank across the narrow pontoon bridge.
But it's too late.
The Kornet missile pierced through the smoke and accurately struck the left side of the tank's turret.
The high-temperature metal jet generated by the shaped charge penetrated the armor, and jet and armor fragments flew into the enclosed vehicle compartment.
Ammunition detonated.
The T-72's turret was blown more than ten meters high before crashing heavily into the river.
The vehicle burst into flames, and a section of the pontoon bridge was also blown up.
"Sniper! Four o'clock, that gray-white building!" Abuyu shouted into the radio.
The Kold's Brigade's counter-sniper team was already in place.
Two groups, two people in each group, one person observes and the other shoots.
They used 12.7mm anti-materiel rifles, armed with armor-piercing incendiary rounds.
First shot.
A 12.7mm bullet traveled 400 meters and shattered the window.
The upper body of the "Kornet" gunner hiding behind was shattered, and blood and internal organs splattered all over the wall.
However, the anti-tank firepower of the militants on the other side was not limited to one location.
A second missile came from another direction and hit a BMP-2 infantry fighting vehicle that had just landed.
The armor on this vehicle was thinner, and the missile blew it in two, killing all eight soldiers inside.
"Suppress their firepower!" Abyu ordered.
The Kold artillery on the north bank began to return fire.
Six 122mm self-propelled howitzers were aimed at the buildings that were launching missiles and fired directly at them.
The first salvo destroyed the middle sections of three buildings.
Bricks, concrete blocks, and human remains fell from the sky.
"Infantry, cross the river!" Abuyu knew he couldn't wait any longer.
We must establish a bridgehead and expand our landing zone.
Three companies of Kold's infantrymen began crossing the river in assault boats.
Each boat carried twelve people, and the machine gunner at the bow vigilantly scanned the opposite bank.
The 1515 garrison on the opposite bank opened fire.
AK-47 rifle, PKM machine gun, RPG-7 rocket launcher...
Bullets and rockets rained down on the river.
An assault boat was hit by an RPG and blown to pieces.
The twelve soldiers on the ship died instantly, their limbs and equipment fragments scattered on the river.
Another ship was strafed by heavy machine guns; 7.62mm bullets pierced the thin hull, turning the soldiers inside into bloody messes.
The river water turned red, and the body floated downstream with the current.
The vanguard soldiers did not retreat.
Because at this point, retreating will result in a faster death than continuing to charge.
They continued crossing the river under heavy fire, with machine gunners on the boat exchanging fire with those on the opposite bank to buy time for their comrades.
The first ship has docked.
Twelve soldiers jumped off the ship and rushed to the nearest bunker at top speed.
That was a section of the wall that had been bombed and collapsed.
They set up machine guns and began suppressing the enemy's firing positions on the opposite bank.
More and more ships are docking.
One hundred people, two hundred people, three hundred people...
The bridgehead gradually expanded.
"Tanks, support the infantry, clear the streets!"
Seeing that the time was right, Abuyu ordered the tanks that had already crossed the river to continue advancing.
Now that the infantry has crossed the river, they can carry out combined arms operations, and the tanks will not be at risk of being isolated and overwhelmed.
Four T-72 tanks, lined up in a wedge formation, slowly drove into the streets of the northern district.
The main gun was pointed at suspicious windows and intersections, while the coaxial machine gun was ready to fire at any moment.
The infantry followed behind the tanks, using the vehicles as cover to clear out each house.
The first building was a two-story shop. The infantry squad split into two groups: one group provided cover at the entrance, and the other group broke down the door and entered.
After the door was blown open, two soldiers rushed in, their guns pointed at every corner.
There's no one on the first floor.
They carefully climbed the stairs, and hurried footsteps came from the second floor.
"Grenade!"
A grenade was thrown from the corner of the stairs and bounced on the ground.
"avoid!"
The soldiers rushed to both sides.
boom--
The grenade exploded, and shrapnel struck one of the men in the leg, causing him to scream and fall to the ground.
Another soldier immediately returned fire, sweeping half a magazine of ammunition upstairs.
I heard someone fall to the ground.
They rushed up to the second floor.
A young 1515 militant lay dead in a pool of blood, still clutching an AK-47 in his hand.
There were two other people nearby, but they were already dead.
It appears he was killed by an artillery shell; his body was mangled beyond recognition.
"Safety!"
They cleared the first building, marked it safe, and then moved on to the next one.
And so the street fighting began.
Behind every house, every room, and every door, there may be an enemy lurking.
Progress was slow and bloody, with every step coming at a price.
Abuyu glanced at his watch.
Six thirty-five.
The northern bridgehead has been established, albeit at a heavy cost.
At least fifty people were killed, and two tanks and three infantry fighting vehicles were destroyed.
Fortunately, they finally gained some ground and established a foothold on the north bank of the river.
"Report casualties, replenish ammunition," he said over the radio. "Tell the soldiers this is just the beginning. The real battle is yet to come."
He looked south, towards the center of Tikrit.
That is 1515's true lair.
South of Tikrit, south of the city, lies an abandoned textile factory.
The mercenary battalion and government special forces company directly under the "Musician" defense command have been lying in wait behind enemy lines for more than 24 hours.
They were hiding in workshop number three of the textile factory.
The building was half destroyed in the early stages of the war, and the remaining part was also on the verge of collapse, but it became an excellent hiding place.
1515 considers this place unsafe and rarely patrols it.
Captain Mahmoud crouched behind a broken wall, observing the city hall square 500 meters away with a viewing device.
After the shelling began, the situation in the square descended into chaos.
More than 100 1515 militants who had gathered there were killed or wounded when the first batch of shells landed.
The remaining people fled in panic; some hid in the city hall building, while others escaped to nearby underground bunkers.
But Mahmoud's mission was not to attack these stragglers.
“JTAC team, target confirmed,” he said into the encrypted radio.
Three hundred meters away, on the roof of a six-story residential building, three U.S. Joint Terminal Attack Controllers (JTACs) were lying under a tarpaulin.
They were equipped with laser designators and encrypted radios, and their mission was to provide precise guidance for upcoming air strikes.
"JTAC-3 confirmed, target: City Hall main building, coordinates have been marked."
English with an American accent came through the headphones.
"There is a heat source signal inside the building, at least fifty people. Requesting airstrikes."
Mahmoud glanced at his watch: 6:10.
According to the plan, the first wave of air strikes should begin at 6:15.
He continued to observe.
Around the town hall square, some surviving soldiers from the 1515th rank are organizing a defense.
They dragged out sandbags, set up machine guns, and even deployed two ZU-23-2 twin-barreled anti-aircraft guns in the center of the square.
Although this Soviet-era weapon is outdated, it still poses a threat to low-flying aircraft.
“Anti-aircraft guns,” Mahmoud said into the radio, “two guns in the center of the square, at the two o’clock position. They need to be cleared first.”
"receive."
Time passed by minute by minute.
6:14.
The roar of engines echoed through the sky.
Four F-15E Strike Eagle fighter-bombers entered from the southeast at an altitude of 3,000 meters.
They arrived very quickly, almost instantly flying over the city the moment the sound was heard.
"JTAC-3 calling 'Hammerhead' team, target laser-marked, guidance code Alpha-7."
The US military's JTAC began providing guidance.
The first F-15E swooped down, descending to an altitude of one thousand meters.
The pilot pressed the bomb release button.
Two GBU-31 JDAM 2000-pound precision-guided bombs detached from their racks.
This bomb uses GPS/INS combined guidance, with a circular error probability of no more than five meters.
The bomb adjusts its attitude in the air, with the control fins at the tail constantly making minor adjustments to keep the trajectory pointing straight at the target.
It was exactly 6:15.
The first bomb hit the roof of the city hall building.
The 2000 pounds of high explosives released enormous energy in an instant, causing the top three floors of the building to collapse as if smashed by a giant's fist.
Bricks, concrete blocks, steel bars, and human remains were blown hundreds of meters high.
The second bomb detonated 0.1 seconds later, penetrating the building through the opening created by the first bomb and exploding on the fourth floor.
Shockwaves erupted from every window, shattering the glass into powder.
The building's structure suffered a fatal blow and began to slowly tilt.
But the attack was not over yet.
The second F-15E's target was the anti-aircraft gun in the square.
It dropped a GBU-38 500-pound small diameter bomb, which is smaller, more accurate, and causes less collateral damage.
The two bombs hit almost simultaneously.
The two ZU-23-2 anti-aircraft guns and the gunners around them were blown to pieces.
The blast wave overturned two nearby sandbag fortifications, killing the machine gunners inside.
The third and fourth F-15Es began "clearing" the surrounding buildings.
They used the CBU-105 sensor to detonate the cluster bomb.
Each mother missile contains ten submunitions, each equipped with its own sensor that can automatically detect armored targets.
This weapon was originally designed to deal with tank formations, but it is now equally deadly when used to clear out infantry hiding in buildings.
The bomb exploded over the city, releasing hundreds of submunitions.
These bullets rained down, each capable of penetrating the floor and exploding inside.
Mahmoud saw through the observation lens that the three buildings surrounding the city hall instantly turned into a slaughterhouse.
Flames and thick smoke billowed from the windows; even if the people inside weren't killed by the explosion, they would be crushed by the collapsing building.
The air strike lasted for five minutes.
As the four F-15Es climbed, turned, and disappeared into the eastern sky, City Hall Square had already been reduced to ruins.
"Target destroyed." JTAC team reported: "Ground forces may advance."
But Mahmoud did not move.
He is waiting.
According to the plan, after the air strike, 1515's command system would fall into chaos, and the defending troops would panic.
At this point, his commando team should launch an attack, capture the ruins of the city hall, and establish a forward command post.
However, something was moving in the ruins of the city hall.
It wasn't survivors crawling out, but...
Someone is walking out.
Mahmoud adjusted the magnification of his observation glasses and was able to see the faces of those people clearly.
He is an ordinary citizen.
The elderly, women, and children. They crawled out of the basement entrance of the city hall and stumbled across the ruins.
Some people had blood all over their faces, some were holding their injured family members, and some were stunned by the explosion, just standing there blankly, looking at the hellish scene around them.
There are many people, at least two hundred.
“Damn it,” Mahmoud cursed under his breath, “1515 locked civilians in basements as human shields.”
He counted them and found that there were some armed militants mixed in with the civilians.
These people hid behind civilians, pressed guns against their backs, and forced them to move forward.
The direction is...
To the south. That's where Mahmoud and his men were hiding.
“Attention, all groups,” Mahmoud said over the radio, “There are civilian human shields approaching, mixed with armed men. Do not fire, repeat, do not fire.”
But it was too late.
A platoon from the government army's special forces company ambushed in a building south of the textile factory.
They only saw a group of people coming from the direction of the city hall, some of whom were carrying guns.
The platoon leader misjudged the situation.
"Fire!"
Asking for a monthly ticket! Asking for a monthly ticket!
(End of this chapter)