Arc of Fire

Ilyich rode away on his motorcycle at high speed just as a Stiponk truck arrived. A brigadier leaped from the truck, glanced at Wang Zhong, then adjusted his uniform in the rain and straightened his cap.

Pavlov: "This must be Korodov, the vice admiral who just arrived with the 71st Infantry Corps. His vanguard has just arrived, and I have already arranged for them to be sent to the front line."

Wang Zhong: "I know. Yakov, go and tell Chef Chen to prepare lion’s head meatballs. Let the corps commander eat before he heads to the front line."

Yakov acknowledged and carefully wrapped the relic he had just received from Wang Zhong in oil paper and placed it in his backpack before turning to leave.

Korodov walked up the steps and saluted Wang Zhong: "General! I have long admired your illustrious name! I am pleased to be able to fight under your command!"

Wang Zhong returned the salute, replying solemnly, "Welcome to hell."

Korodov laughed: "That’s great. We will definitely earn our Guards title. I heard that the Guards Infantry is starting to be equipped with those submachine guns?"

Wang Zhong: "They are called assault rifles, and currently, only my Guards Infantry is issued with them."

"Now we are under your command; all we lack is the Guards title," Korodov said and then saluted again, "Then I will depart now, General!"

"But the military situation is urgent. We saw many wounded on the way here, more than I’ve seen in the whole of last year. I should head to the front line as soon as possible—" Korodov argued convincingly.

Wang Zhong cut him off: "After eating! The battlefield will still be there; it’s not going anywhere. Let your troops also stop and have a meal, eat some warm food, drink some hot soup."

Korodov wanted to argue further but suddenly read something in Wang Zhong’s expression.

He saluted Wang Zhong for the third time: "Thank you, Comrade Commander."

Wang Zhong nodded: "You’re welcome."

A few seconds later, he murmured again: "You’re welcome."

October 21, 915, early morning. In heavy rain.

Headquarters of the 9th Armored Division and the 9th Armored Grenadier Division of the Prosen 14th Armored Army.

The 9th Armored Division and the 9th Armored Grenadier Division were originally expanded from the same training base. In the Prosen Army, it was common for two different divisions with the same number to be expanded from the same base.

For example, the 16th Armored Division and the 16th Armored Grenadier Division are from the same origin, although later both divisions recruited newcomers from various places, so the "origin" characteristics were weakened.

Major General Schmidt paced back and forth at the joint headquarters: "Why hasn’t it started yet?"

Major General Hoppe responded: "Obviously the smoke bombs won’t be effective in this rain. Under such rainy conditions... the smoke bombs will hardly be effective."

Then Schmidt’s deputy officer spoke: "General, the heavy rain already obscures visibility, maybe we can try launching an infantry attack?"

Schmidt, the major general: "Are you suggesting that I conduct an infantry attack without artillery preparation or smoke cover?"

Major General Hoppe: "Our division’s ammunition supply is still intact, and we also have a large number of mortars, infantry guns, and a battalion of assault guns assigned to our infantry regiments. I think we can attack; my division will provide artillery support while you send tanks to assist."

Schmidt stared outside for a few seconds, then nodded: "Let’s try. If we encounter strong anti-tank fire on enemy positions, retreat and wait for the rain to stop before attacking according to the original plan."

Major General Hoppe immediately waved his hand, and his staff officers got busy at once.

Watching the attack order being issued step by step, Hoppe clapped an old friend on the shoulder: "Relax, even if Rocossov’s Whirlwind assault guns are there, our infantry can handle it! After all, those assault guns lack turrets and are quite limited in defense. Once the infantry closes in, they are more vulnerable than tanks.

"As you said before, the ones defending the Nameless Highlands are just mobilized Antean soldiers."

Schmidt nodded: "Right, we briefly occupied part of the position before, captured some documents and a few wounded soldiers. The Anteans stationed there have been in the military for just over three months and hadn’t fired more than 50 rounds before going into position."

Major General Hoppe confidently said: "Then it’s settled, today we will take the Nameless Highlands. Then I will name it after the 9th Armored Division to commemorate the fallen soldiers."

At that moment, a staff officer reported to Major General Hoppe: "Artillery preparation complete, General!"

"Good. Fire!"

0821 hours, October 21, Nameless Highlands, following the artillery barrage, in heavy rain.

Brigadier Aromeyev lifted his head and looked around.

He could hear the commanders of Naval Infantry companies and platoons loudly confirming their status.

The heavy rain made visibility very poor, turning the world a gray blur. Aromeyev estimated the current visibility on the battlefield, concluding that the entrenched Whirlwind tank destroyers could only target locations up to 300 meters away.

Beyond that, nothing was visible.

Even at this 300-meter distance, they could only aim roughly, unable to achieve precise attacks, as enemy tanks at that range might just appear as black blobs.

Thus, the weather had negated the most fearsome aspect of the Whirlwind!

In Balas, Aromeyev had witnessed the Whirlwind’s long-range precision attacks, where Rocossov’s elite forces could hit enemy tanks accurately at a distance of 1800 meters.

By naked eye alone, the tank at a distance of 1800 meters appeared as a mere speck.

The Whirlwind Tank Destroyers’ operators were able to accurately hit, and even penetrate weak points (Aromeyev thought it was weak points being hit due to misunderstanding the design standards of Whirlwind).

"Damn this weather," the Brigadier cursed.

At that moment, the staff officer said, "Perhaps the Prosens knew the Whirlwind was here and fired smoke bombs, but now with the heavy rain, the smoke bombs are ineffective. The Whirlwind still has a fire range of 300 meters."

"You’re right about that," Aromeyev nodded.

Then, the observer shouted, "Listen!"

Aromeyev and the Chief of Staff immediately closed their mouths, and soon they heard the sound of engines.

Aromeyev yelled, "Prepare for battle!"

His command echoed repeatedly, as if generating continuous reverberations: "Prepare for battle!" "Prepare for battle!"

Aromeyev had confidence in his troops, for they were the battle-hardened Naval Infantry, the Prosens’ feared "Black Death." If they couldn’t hold back the Prosens, no one from Ante could, and the Nameless Highlands would be lost today.

As for casualties, after arriving at the positions yesterday and seeing the grim scene, Aromeyev had long since banished the word from his mind.

Even if the 393rd Brigade fought to the last man, he would dig in at the position, covering the precious Whirlwind Tank Destroyers as they retreated.

The ground began to shake, and in the little puddles outside the trench intense ripples appeared like fish scales.

Dark silhouettes appeared in the distance, growing larger and larger.

Was the Whirlwind holding fire because the rain blurred the weak points?

Aromeyev pursed his lips, beginning to estimate how many enemy tanks his Naval Infantry could potentially take out.

Calculating as though it cost three men for each tank taken down—

Suddenly, the Whirlwinds fired!

The shells hit a dark silhouette accurately, and then the silhouette exploded, flames shooting two meters high from the turret lid, glowing like bright torches in the heavy rain.

Following that, all the Whirlwinds began to fire, the entire position awash with the smoke from the 100mm guns’ muzzles—then the smoke was quickly washed away by the rain, and visibility soon returned to clarity.

The second wave of firing began!

In a blink, the area before their position was full of blazing torches, the curtain of rain illuminated, the previously obscured Prosen skirmish lines now revealed.

Taking the opportunity, the machine guns opened fire, their tracer bullets weaving a net of fire that pierced the rain.

The Whirlwinds unleashed a third volley.

The enemy tanks were already retreating, falling back to a distance of five to six hundred meters, yet still being hit and bursting into flames. Continue your adventure with

Aromeyev finally realized, this Whirlwind thing, when facing Prosen’s main tanks, could penetrate upon contact, destroying without the need to aim at any weak points.

Just then, the Whirlwinds had allowed the enemy to close within 300 meters before firing, presumably to prevent them from escaping.

Look now, the enemy had retreated to seven or eight hundred meters away, yet the Whirlwinds continued to fire, occasionally visible as Prosen tanks were hit and transformed into torches.

Aromeyev waited about five minutes, and finally, the Whirlwinds fell silent.

His view now contained no living objects.

About thirty or more Prosen tanks were burning, and generally, when tanks are hit, even with Prosen’s repair capabilities, they were mostly irreparable and completely written off.

As for those stationary silhouettes, should the Prosens capture the Nameless Highlands, perhaps they would manage to repair them.

Brigadier Aromeyev heaved a sigh of relief: "The first wave of the attack has been repelled, tell everyone to return to the bunkers in preparation for shelling. Knowing how the Prosens wage war, the artillery should be coming."

Chief of Staff: "Do they even have any shells left? Didn’t the Air Force say they had blown up all their ammunition?"

Brigadier Aromeyev shrugged, just as a whooshing sound came from the sky.

"Seems they still have some," the Brigadier said, while simultaneously crouching forward against the muddy trench wall.

"How many losses are you saying?" Major General Schmidt’s voice rose eight octaves.

"We have 31 Model III and 11 Model IV tanks not returned, the 2nd Armored Battalion has lost more than a third of its force," the Deputy Officer replied with difficulty. "Your prediction was right, yesterday’s assault guns didn’t move, all were lying in ambush on the highlands."

Major General Schmidt snorted: "Even though I predicted right, I’m not pleased at all!"

At that moment, Major General Hoppe suggested, "We could let my Armored Grenadiers crawl forward under the cover of the heavy rain for a surprise attack, engaging in close combat to take the position!"

"We should have done that from the start!" Major General Schmidt exclaimed. "Just this single attack, in mere minutes, my armored battalion had more losses than all of yesterday!"

For Prosen, where armored battalions were typically large, losing a third of .steps over one-hundred tanks per battalion was substantial; any Division Commander would feel the sting.

Major General Hoppe consoled his friend, "We’ll take it from here, first we conduct an artillery preparation, allowing my troops to silently approach the position under the cover of the barrage."

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