Slutsk, Occupied Soviet Union, Generalmajor Max Fremerey
Generalmajor Max Fremerey looked over the regional map before him, to his east was a forest, to his north and south were more open plains perfect for Panzers. Of course it didn't matter much, intelligence had suggested that there was no major Soviet presence near Fremerey's position at Slutsk, after all about a hundred kilometers to the North was the city of Minsk which Fremerey had just received reports on being captured by fellow units of the 2nd Panzer Group and to the Northwest was a giant pocket filled with hundreds of thousands of Soviets stuck between Białystok and Minsk, some reports suggesting the encircled armies were even larger than the Dunkirk pocket which had gained the 29th so much fame back at home. If this was true than the Soviets would have no interest in Slutsk, which formed the outward positions of the Southeastern portion of the encirclement, but rather on retaking Minsk and reopening the pocket where it was thinnest. As such, Fremerey had been ordered to hold position and wait for reinforcements from the West who would relieve the 29th and allow them to continue their advance eastward alongside the rest of the 2nd Panzer Group.
With these orders Fremerey had ordered the 15th Regiment under Ulich to hold at Slutsk in reserve, Kandt's 71st Regiment to hold about 7 kilometers to the Northeast at a small town that overlooked the northern road into Slutsk, and Dierk Holst's 1st Regiment to hold 11 kilometers east-southeast on the southern railway into Slutsk at a town called...Urzecze? The writing on the map wasn't clear thanks to a convenient fold mark though that didn't much matter, the town's name was unimportant, what was important was the railway that it sat upon. Other than his three infantry regiments Fremerey had also sent Mutius's motorcycle battalion south to make sure the plains were secure, not that Fremerey expected anything from there, as there weren't any suitable roads or railways for a Soviet force to move on down there so if a counter-attack was to happen it would come from the East along one of those two roads. As such Siegfried Meindl's 2nd Battalion of Panzers were stationed with Holst's 1st Regiment on the southern approach, it was a risk not keeping them in reserve with the 15th Regiment at Slutsk but Fremerey figured that since the Soviets were so reliant upon railway to move large concentrations of troops quickly into new positions that any attack would focus on securing said railway so they could more quickly reinforce Slutsk if it were to be recaptured by them. With his defenses set up against an unlikely foe Fremerey gave a wry smile and turned away from the map, instead focusing on a bottle of wine he'd brought back from France.
After four hard days of advancing nonstop and finally getting a moment to rest and recuperate, Generalmajor Fremerey thought it only fair he get to relax with a nice vintage, after all the way things were going so far made it look like OKH's promise of an easy victory wasn't just bluster after all.
Urzecze, Occupied Soviet Union, Leutnant Heinrich Gunther
"Urgh…" Heinrich grunted as he stretched out his sore muscles, after having been stuck in the back of an Opel Blitz with half his platoon for four days almost without break it was nice to actually get to walk about again.
A few loud 'pops' were heard from his body before Heinrich finished his stretching, and he began making his way to the eastern portion of town, the one which touched the edge of the forests that surrounded it. First Battalion of the 1st Regiment had been ordered to hold this particular position of the town in the case of an attack, as such Heinrich and his men had made quick work of making their way there once they'd disembarked from the center of town where all the panzers and trucks were being left it seemed, though a few panzers seemed scattered here and there in various positions as Gunther walked along towards his platoon's position on the south side of the railway that bordered the northern edge of town. As Heinrich approached his platoon's position nestled in and around several small houses on the northeastern portion of town he took pride in their professional placement of the squad machineguns and their pre-smashing of windows to prevent the possibility of flying debris should a fight occur...though the previous owners of the abodes didn't seem to share Heinrich's satisfaction. However Heinrich didn't care what they thought, windows could be replaced, eyeballs lost to glass shards could not. It was a hard lesson learned by one of Heinrich's former platoonmates in Dunkirk when a French grenade detonated and shattered a nearby window that he'd been near during the house-to-house fighting in the city itself.
His men were experienced, but they were also men, and so it didn't surprise Heinrich when he came across some of his men drinking what must've been from one of the townspeople's vodka stash within their newly occupied house. However rather than scold the men for enjoying themselves Heinrich simply motioned for the bottle, one of the soldat's handed it to him with a grin and Heinrich took a long swig from the bottle, he almost immediately began coughing afterwards however as the vodka burned its way down.
He handed the bottle back to the soldat and noted, "Argh, they don't make their drinks like the French, that's strong stuff."
His men got a chuckle from that and Heinrich let them be as he moved over to a window in the small wooden house and looked East towards the forests and the railway that continued onward. Soon he and his men would be moving again in the back of those damned trucks, and soon they'd fight again like in France and Yugoslavia, and soon after that...maybe another victory? So far it had seemed so easy, nations fell under the might of the German War Machine, and Heinrich took pride in that. He was avenging his father, avenging his nation's pride and honor, retaking it from the disgrace of the last war. But a small part of his mind bugged him, asking him what was the cost, not just to him but to a certain women out there somewhere that he'd loved so very much. With a shake of his head Heinrich shook off these thoughts and turned away from the window, he'd have plenty of time to think of the costs once he was in Moscow and the war was won.