The shells shattered the morning calm with a peculiar shriek.
"Enemy attack! Enemy attack! The Ottomans are here!"
The old lieutenant roared himself hoarse, but his voice was quickly swallowed by the explosions. Shrapnel shells landed precisely on the outer sentry posts, and the entire Star Fort (earthen rampart) trembled.
The soldiers jolted awake from their dreams. Some ran toward the barracks to rouse everyone, while others hid in corners, trembling. Cries of alarm and screams rose without end, while others shouted as they fired at enemies more than a thousand meters away.
Rubble and wood splinters flew everywhere. From time to time, Russian soldiers were struck down by flying stones and shell fragments, and their comrades seized the moment to swiftly drag them behind the earthen rampart.
Russian commander Alexander Prinsky awoke in the bunker. He had been waiting for this day for a long time.
"Tell the soldiers to take up their weapons! For the liberation of our brethren enslaved and oppressed by the Ottomans, for our faith, we will fight the Ottomans to the bitter end!
Kill our horses! Tonight, everyone eats meat!"
The adjutant asked hesitantly.
"Commander, why kill the horses? If—if the battle goes badly, how will you leave?"
"Hordensky, the ice and snow have yet to melt. Even if His Majesty came at top speed, it would take two months. No one is coming to save us.
Cheer up. We'll become martyrs."
After saying that, Alexander Prinsky put on his sailor cap. Prinsky intended to see how the battle was going. He had no intention of stretching out his neck to await execution; even if he died, he would die gloriously.
The Ottoman artillery was exceptionally fierce. The hastily constructed Star Fort (earthen rampart) truly proved useless, just as Prinsky had expected.
But the