Arc of Fire

Chapter 622: Chapter 64: The Tide of Anger

The point of departure for the attack.

When the artillery batteries in the rear began firing, the ground itself trembled.

The T34 tanks, painted with snow camouflage, formed a loose formation to cross the river. Tank operators all emerged from the hatches, looking back.

"Good lord, this is more than enough for the Prosen devils.”

"I heard we’ve concentrated thousands of pieces of heavy artillery. General Rocosov said he wants to erase the enemy’s trenches directly from their positions.”

"Really? Is that true? Wouldn’t that shave off three meters of soil from the positions?”

At that moment, a messenger on horseback raced down from upstream, shouting as he rode, “Start your engines, start your engines! Final check! Start your engines!”

As the messenger passed by, the roar of engines came to life, and tank exhaust pipes spewed thick black smoke.

The entire river bank was filled with the thunderous sound of engines, at times even drowning out the noise of the artillery.

Then the rocket artillery fired.

Rivers of fire surged toward the opposite side, like a meteor shower rising against the current. The howling of the rockets overpowered the sound of the engines.

Headquarters of the Sixth Army Group of Prosen.

General William von Frederick—a General—was jolted awake from his sleep. He had been suffering from insomnia since the day before and was so exhausted last night that he didn’t even want to take off his clothes, simply lying down on his bed as he was.

As a result, he seemed to have caught a cold, sneezing several times the moment he sat up.

He didn’t bother to wipe the mucus and spit that shot out but went straight to the window and looked out.

There was still some time before dawn, but the night sky was already lit up by flashes of light.

Continuous flashes of light in the direction of the horizon were accompanied by the rumbling “thunder.”

General Frederick held his forehead, “It’s over, I just knew Rocosov was going to attack.”

The orderly standing behind him exclaimed in shock, “Rocosov is attacking?”

"What else could this be?” the General pointed toward the distant twinkling lights, “Christmas fireworks? But the Anteans’ Christmas isn’t until the seventh of January next year! Aren’t these fireworks a bit early?”

The orderly was silent for a few seconds before asking, “What do we do now?”

General Frederick said, “There’s nothing we can do. We should have retreated when the snow stopped. Since we didn’t retreat then, our fate was already sealed. Rocosov deliberately let us capture a Red Flag and gave me the rank of General, and now it’s time for me to pay the price.”

The General returned to the bed and sat down with a yawn.

The orderly wanted to close the window but was stopped, “No, no need to close the window. I haven’t slept well for days. Now, if I leave the window open and let the sound of artillery fire in, I expect I’ll get some decent sleep.”

"What?” the orderly questioned, as if doubting his ears, “This

The General said, “It’s like the person upstairs who has to drop their boots every day. You need to hear two ‘thumps’ before you can sleep peacefully. If suddenly there’s only one thump, you can only sit restlessly waiting for the second. Without it, you can’t sleep.”

The orderly stared wide-eyed, “You want to sleep now?”

"Yes, what else can I do? I don’t have any reserves on hand. The Armored Army that was supposed to reinforce us has been dragging its feet on the way and hasn’t arrived yet. Other units have been heavily depleted. The remaining men are gaunt, looking like a bunch of skeletons. Equipment is also almost entirely lost. One Armored Division submitted a ten-day report yesterday—they only have seven tanks ready for combat.

"Seven! What am I supposed to use against Rocosov’s million-strong army and his hundreds, thousands of tanks? Clearly, our air reconnaissance photographed so many tanks, yet High Command insists they were decoys!

"Even if our tank operators could destroy all of the enemy tanks, we no longer have enough armor-piercing shells! They’re all gone! So, tell me, what can I do other than sleep?”

The orderly hesitated before saying, “You could at least try to boost morale. Maybe a miracle will happen.”

General Frederick sat silently on his campaign bed, as if conflicted.

At that moment, the Chief of Staff of the Army Group burst into the bedroom, “General! The enemy has launched a full-scale attack. According to the information we have, they’re bombarding the Moravian troops and also the coast of the Inland Sea.”

"They’re landing on the coast, aiming for a pincer movement,” General Frederick sighed, “He’s really picked up our tactics, different from General Gorky of the Western Front Army.”

Chief of Staff: “What do we do?”

General Frederick said, “We can…erm, send a telegram to the Army Group Command letting them know we’re about to be surrounded and annihilated.”

"That’s it?” The Chief of Staff’s eyes widened like a fish out of water, bulging.

General Frederick: “That’s it.”

Watching the Chief of Staff’s expression grow increasingly despondent, the General stood up, “Well, we still have to struggle a bit. In response to the enemy’s potential pincer movement, we’ve had the Eighth Infantry Army fortify key positions. Maybe that will slow them down until the New Armored Army, which has been dragging its feet, arrives.”

"Do we resist?” the Chief of Staff asked, “Are we really going to resist?”

"Yes, we can’t let Rocosov eat us so easily. Even if just for the honor of a soldier, we should struggle.”

After a brief pause, the General added, “Also, begin preparations for a breakout with the other units. It’s not impossible to break free if other units come to our rescue.”

"Yes.”

November 20, 0900 hours, Position of the First Infantry Division of the First Army Group of Moravia.

The entire position no longer existed, the terrifying heavy artillery had flattened the entire hill, and the trenches that were originally one person deep were blasted to only 50 centimeters deep.

Such trenches could hardly provide much cover for adult males.

The distant roar of engines could be heard, but there was no one on the position shouting “Prepare for battle”.

The Moravians had already abandoned the position, disappearing without a trace.

A large number of T34s appeared from the dawn, thundering onto the position, crushing the bodies and helmets left on the position, and heading towards the vast snowy plains behind the position.

The cavalry army coordinated with the armored troops to form a retro wedge formation, as if a black tide swept across the snowy plain.

After the tanks and cavalry charged through, the position remained quiet for a long time, until Stiponk trucks carrying battlefield cleaning personnel arrived at the position.

"How strange,” said the worker who got off the truck, puzzled, “no corpses of our troops?”

"How could that be!” The Priest who led the team cursed as he walked up to the worker, then froze.

The Priest’s gaze swept back and forth across the position, and finally, confused, he took off his hat: “Am I seeing ghosts? How could there be no corpses of our own troops? Are the Moravians that incompetent?”

Worker: “Yeah, before we set off, the Commander mentioned something about ‘undercooked rice’, which I don’t understand – probably means it’s hard to fight with heavy casualties, right? I thought I’d be collecting the bodies of our good lads again, but… Priest, what do we do now?”

The Priest took out a cigarette, struck a match to light it, took a deep drag, and then answered: “Collect the enemy’s corpses, of course. Leaving them unattended is asking for an epidemic.”

Abawahan Front Army Headquarters, 1000 hours.

"The Moravian troops have disintegrated,” Pavlov threw the report in front of Wang Zhong, “Currently, we only encountered firm resistance at Badayev, and the armored troops have bypassed it as ordered.”

Wang Zhong: “The Prosen infantry specialize in defense, and they won’t use infantry to attack in the open field. We can confidently bypass the enemy’s strong points and let the heavy artillery handle it.”

Pavlov: “You’re not going to drive your prototype vehicle again, are you?”

Wang Zhong: “You know the condition of my prototype vehicle.”

He had used the 422 prototype vehicle so intensely before that the maintenance department reported it had to be sent back to the factory for repairs; a simple engine replacement at the front wouldn’t suffice.

"When I get back, I’m going to severely criticize the designers. This reliability is unacceptable!” Wang Zhong said.

Popov: “I think it’s quite something already. You’ve been racing around in the city for so long, taken so many armor-piercing shells, and it’s only just broken down

Wang Zhong: “Strive for perfection, right?”

At that moment, a staff officer came over with a report and handed it to Pavlov.

Wang Zhong: “What’s the situation?”

"Our assault spearhead has encountered the Prosen armored troops.”

Wang Zhong: “Bypass them, their current state means most of their tanks will be stranded after a short maneuver in the open field.”

"No,” Pavlov handed the clipboard with the report to Wang Zhong, “See for yourself, we have destroyed a Prosen Armored Division.”

Wang Zhong’s eyes widened: “What? How is that possible

Then he saw the number of destroyed tanks written in the report: 5.

Wang Zhong: “How is this possible!”

"That division only had five tanks left that could be deployed,” Pavlov said, “Look at our losses – to destroy these five tanks, we lost 22 T34s.”

Wang Zhong: “A nearly four to one casualty ratio?”

Popov: “It’s an improvement from last year.”

Wang Zhong, with a complex expression, put down the clipboard, stood up, and paced around the headquarters: “Although we have destroyed an enemy Armored Division, I can’t feel happy about it, gentlemen, I just can’t. Over here we have the Guards Tank Army Group! Guards! This means a large part of the crew are experienced veterans.”

Pavlov: “I heard that T34 production is stopping next year, and the units are receiving the T34W model with a commander.”

Wang Zhong: “But even the T34W doesn’t have the advantage against armor-piercing rounds anymore. Plus, the Prosen’s new tanks should also be reaching the front lines.”

Previously in Yeisk, Wang Zhong’s Whirlwind had taken out the Tiger Prototypes that came to the front lines for testing. The Prosen side would definitely have to redesign, and who knows what they would come up with.

As Wang Zhong pondered, another staff officer ran over with a report, hesitated for a moment, but still bypassed Wang Zhong in his path and handed the report to Pavlov.

Pavlov glanced at the report and said, “The landing operation at sea has also succeeded. Now it’s truly an encirclement campaign. It seems we can move up our plans.”

Originally, Wang Zhong’s plan was to close the encirclement in 72 hours.

Pavlov went to the map and looked at the situation being updated by the staff, and said to Wang Zhong: “Maybe in 48 hours, we’ll be able to seal the pocket.”

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