Arc of Fire

The former battalion commander of the 225th Division’s Tank Destroyer Battalion had excelled in Yeisk and Balas and was promoted to study at the Suvorov Military Academy.

The new battalion commander, Sergey, took Ilyich’s hand, "I hope we haven’t come too late."

"Of course, you haven’t!" Ilyich turned and pointed to the defensive position, "Look, the position is still fully under our control!"

Sergey observed the defensive position and silently took off his hat.

The entire position was littered with the bodies of Anteans and Prosens, some of which were burnt and huddled together, indistinguishable from one another.

At least three thousand Antean soldiers had fallen on the tiny Nameless Highlands, and who knew how many more would be swallowed by this bottomless pit.

Ilyich also looked at the soldiers on the position, but he didn’t take off his hat. Instead, he said to Sergey, "Let’s not rush to pay our respects; who knows, we might join them soon."

Sergey paused, then put his hat back on and nodded, "Yes, you’re right. Let’s talk about deploying the Whirlwind instead.

"In Yeisk, we found that the Prosens tend to use a large amount of Smoke Bombs when facing the overwhelm direct fire power of the Whirlwind against their armored units, much like how they counter our ’Divine Arrow.’

"So we need to find a way to ambush them and achieve sufficient battle results when they realize they need to use Smoke Bombs."

Ilyich turned towards the Prosen direction, "You all have come marching up so openly; they must have noticed. I say we do this: their tanks are arranged right there, you push forward into firing range and hit them! When they use Smoke Bombs to block, we pull back!"

Sergey pursed his lips, thought for a moment, and shook his head, "No, we need to first reconnoiter the terrain and ensure the Tank Destroyers won’t get stuck in the ground. Your position was originally dug with trenches, sandbags piled up for shelters, and then plowed over by enemy fire, and the battle has raged until now..."

As he spoke, he bent over to pick up a damaged helmet and shook it at Ilyich, "Look at this helmet. A single track can roll over it, but there’s a pile of helmets like this on your position, and weapons scattered everywhere... If we’re to advance and engage the enemy from your position, we must actually scout the terrain, or we’ll definitely have Tank Destroyers disabled on the way forward or in retreat."

Ilyich clicked his tongue, "That’s the situation. You could take advantage of the night to scout the terrain..."

At that moment, the telephone rang.

Everyone stopped talking and looked in the direction of the ringing. The phone stopped abruptly, replaced by the voice of the person answering, "This is Nameless Highlands! General! Yes! I will transfer the phone to the Commander immediately!"

A corporal with a bandage around his head ran towards them, one hand holding the telephone base, the other the receiver, "Priest! It’s a call from the General!"

He ran a few steps, and the phone line got caught on something. Immediately, three or four wounded men started fumbling to straighten out the line.

The corporal reached Ilyich and said, "Telephone call from the General!"

In the Abawahan Front Army, mentioning the General could only refer to one person.

Ilyich respectfully took the phone, "Your Excellency, General! I’m Ilyich Davarish, the highest commander at Nameless Highlands, and beside me is the newly arrived Tank Destroyer Battalion commander!"

Rocossov spoke on the phone, "Stop calling me ’Your Excellency,’ Ilyich Davarish, first of all, your defense has been very successful, I have seen your situation, and it wasn’t easy to hold out!"

Ilyich was pleasantly surprised, "You’ve seen it? But we have been fighting for a day and haven’t had any visitation groups from Front Army Headquarters down here?"

"Let’s say Saint Andrew allowed me to see it. Now, I have orders for you, which you will convey to the commander of the 225th Division’s Tank Destroyer Battalion. Tonight, you can start the Whirlwind’s engine at night and use the gradually decreasing engine noise to feign that the Whirlwind has left.

"Also, have the Naval Infantry that went up with the Whirlwind dig shelters for it, and try to hide the Whirlwind as much as possible. Remember to leave a route for maneuvering. And about the enemy’s Smoke Bombs, consider using explosives to disperse the smoke; you should still have plenty of explosives left in your position, right?"

Ilyich nodded, "Yes, there’s plenty of explosives left, but not many who can throw them."

Rocossov continued on the phone, "Use the explosives to drive away the smoke and clear the Whirlwind’s firing range. Also, think about igniting tires to heat the air with a large fire, creating convection on the position, thereby reducing the effect of the Smoke Bombs."

"Understood!" Ilyich brought his feet together and saluted the General who was not present.

Rocossov said, "Don’t rush to salute."

"Eh?"

Ilyich looked around, then realized the General wasn’t watching him. He then had a hunch and looked up at the sky.

Rocossov said, "Tell your plans to Battalion Commander Sergey, and also, the machine gun position on the far left of your position is not well placed, I think moving it five meters to the left would be better."

After saying that, the phone call ended.

Ilyich glanced at the sky and muttered, "The left side is..."

He looked to the south, "Could it be the south? If the General really looked over here, it should be from the east."

Sergey, perplexed, asked, "What happened?"

"Nothing," Ilyich waved his hand and instructed his soldiers, "Move the machine gun position on the south side another five meters to the south! Also, Battalion Commander Sergey, the General’s instructions for you are as follows..."

On October 20 at 2230 hours, Major General Schneider of the 9th Armored Division of the Prosen 14th Armored Army was inspecting his troops in a jeep.

He had come all the way to the Nameless Highlands, which had withstood a day’s intense combat without falling.

The battalion commander of the 1st Armored Battalion, Hansen, tasked with commanding the assault, was already waiting for him there.

"Hansen," Major General Schneider got out of the car, "do you have anything to say? Out of the entire 14th Armored Army, only we have been stopped by the enemy’s field positions!"

Hansen, with a look of helplessness: "Our supporting artillery’s ammo dump was destroyed. Otherwise, we could have definitely taken the high ground!"

Major General Schneider did not respond and strode into the artillery observation post to survey the enemy positions in the night with his Artillery Mirror, scrutinizing for more than ten seconds. He pulled away from the Mirror’s eyepiece and looked at Hansen: "I thought I would see reinforced concrete fortifications, but there’s nothing!

"It’s unbelievable that such rudimentary fortifications have held you back."

Hansen: "The Anteans have demonstrated a remarkable will to fight. We’ve engaged in hand-to-hand combat several times and have been repelled each time! The two companies that joined the attack suffered heavy losses! I lost thirty tanks today on the battlefield, General!"

Major General Schneider shook his head and questioned: "So are the troops in position the enemy’s elite? Naval Infantry or Guards Infantry? Hm? The intel I received at Headquarters mentioned only a bunch of conscripts."

Hansen was about to reply when suddenly, from the dark of the night, a deafening roar of engines could be heard.

Schneider hurriedly turned to the Artillery Mirror and pressed his eyes against the eyepiece.

He saw what appeared to be dust rising from the positions.

Major General Schneider: "All units on alert!"

Hansen immediately relayed the order and waited for the messenger to leave before saying to Major General Schneider: "The enemy wouldn’t launch an armored offensive at night, although there have been cases where they’ve sent Naval Infantry to conduct night raids, but..."

"Shush!" Major General Schneider raised his finger and whispered, "The sound of the engines is moving away from the position. Didn’t you report observing an enemy Tank Destroyer before darkness fell?"

Hansen also lowered his voice: "Yes."

"This is a trap," Major General Schneider waved his finger, "I’ve studied that Rocossov’s tactics. He likes to feint one way and strike another. If it appears as though the Tank Destroyers have left, then you will encounter Tank Destroyers on the position tomorrow. Perfect—the artillery doesn’t have proper shells anyway, so use Smoke Bombs to cover the entire position tomorrow, depriving the enemy’s Tank Destroyers of visibility. Moreover..."

Hansen: "General, this will also prevent our tanks from utilizing their firepower advantage. If we rush to close combat range, enemy infantry will inflict heavy losses on us."

Major General Schneider: "Then bring more infantry. The enemy is just a group of ad hoc infantry, surviving thus far on sheer combat will—and continuous reinforcements. I bet that today, as defenders, they suffered more casualties than us attackers. Far more!"

Indeed, today on the Nameless Highlands, there were far more Antean bodies than Prosen.

Major General Schneider continued: "Tonight, the 9th Armored Grenadiers Division will join the assault, our brother unit. You will receive the support of an entire Armored Grenadier Corps! Use pure infantry to attack and annihilate the enemy! And incidentally, shatter the myth of that so-called ’Whirlwind’ Assault Gun!"

Since the battle of Yeisk, Ante’s propaganda machine had been touting the Whirlwind, painting it as a divine weapon capable of altering the course of battle.

Hansen was greatly encouraged: "Understood! Tomorrow, we’ll deliver results that will please you, General!"

"Good," Major General Schneider patted his shoulder.

Just then, a howling sound came from the sky.

Three minutes earlier.

At the Abawahan Front Army Headquarters, Pavlov was looking at his watch: "This familiar feeling, it feels like it’s been a long time since we last had it."

Wang Zhong laughed heartily: "In Yeisk, our supply situation wasn’t good, we couldn’t shell on schedule like this."

The Abawahan Front Army was short of troops but not shells because this place was the end of the Allied supply lines. Shells produced by the United Kingdom in places like India and those transported by the Federation from Australia all came here.

So naturally, Wang Zhong’s specialty, the timed artillery barrage, was about to begin.

The main goal was to prevent the enemy from sleeping soundly.

Should one be careless, it might even scatter one’s bed and cooking pot.

On Earth, this was a tactic played by the U.S. Military. After the war, Sturmtiger generals even wrote books ridiculing the Americans, saying that such "aimless shelling" was "completely useless apart from wasting shells" and that it "consumed a large amount of ammunition affecting normal artillery fire."

However, after Wang Zhong tried it himself, he thought that the Sturmtiger generals were just talking tough. How could losing sleep in the middle of the night have no effect?

If anything, the Americans’ logistics were botched by their stupid chief of logistics, causing a lot of shells to not be delivered, which then impacted the normal offensive artillery fire.

If the Americans weren’t sabotaged by their own chief of logistics, they would have had enough shells, and the Sturmtigers might have been blown to smithereens.

Pavlov, the second hand on his watch reaching the top, picked up the receiver: "Fire."

Wang Zhong switched his view; by that time, he had just gained the view of the various artillery units, so he could look down from above at the sight of thousands of cannon firing simultaneously.

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