Cannon Fire Arc Chapter 679

Chapter 679: Chapter 17: Skirmish

Wang Zhong: “Use a fierce attack on Shostka by Ulban to create a false impression of a breakthrough here, while the real intention is to enter through a weak spot?”

“Exactly. This time I have enough cavalry. Though the terrain in the central region has more forests, and the cavalry can't move as smoothly as in Kazakhstan and Nan'ant, we can still effectively disrupt the enemy's supply lines and communication,” General Gorky gesticulated out of thin air.

Wang Zhong: “What about the enemy reserves in Oborsk? According to aerial reconnaissance, there could be one or two Armored Divisions there.”

General Gorky: “They can only counterattack one or two directions. We will breach everywhere, they only have so many fire brigades, whereas we must be like wildfire, spreading far and wide!

“Moreover, the attack on Shostka isn't entirely a feint. After Ulban has blasted out some results, it can completely turn into the main breakthrough direction.

“Even if all attacks are ineffective, it would still draw their forces and lessen your pressure.”

General Gorky spread his hands: “Just like the winter campaign.”

Wang Zhong: “If you hadn't drawn a large portion of the enemy forces during the winter campaign, we would have had a hard time holding out. I protested to Belinsky, saying that your name must be included in the battle report, but he didn't agree.”

General Gorky: “It was I who actively requested my name be omitted from the battle reports because, put nicely, it means catching the enemy's attention. But put less nicely, it means no advancement. I will keep optimizing my plans and further familiarize my staff with them!”

General Gorky's hands pressed against the table, staring at the actually map-less surface of the table, his eyes as if gazing at the map's rivers and mountains.

He decisively said: “Next time, let the enemy bring reinforcements but still be unable to stop us. Only then will I allow my name on the battle reports.”

Wang Zhong looked at General Gorky with some embarrassment, after all, during the winter campaign, the man had indeed taken on a lot of pressure.

At this point, Olga spoke: “Belinsky told me that he understands General Gorky's desire to catch up to you, respects his decision, and so I also approved his request.”

Wang Zhong looked at General Gorky, who was much older than himself, and said: “When I was still a student, you were already a general, my senior. Receiving such respect from you… I can only do my utmost to achieve results that live up to this respect.

“Farewell, until we meet in Plowsonia!”

Wang Zhong reached out his hand.

General Gorky hesitated not and shook his hand: “Farewell, until Plowsonia! Then, I will commence the attack in June.”

“I'll catch up shortly after,” responded Wang Zhong. “We aim to liberate Kazakhstan within this year.”

General Gorky: “Just liberate Kazakhstan?”

Wang Zhong: “You must be more familiar with the situation of the central and northern cities than I am, right?”

General Gorky had served as the Commander of the Western Front Army for a long time before the war, at which time the defense area of the Western Front Army was the territory now occupied by the enemy's Central Army Group.

Gorky smiled: “Indeed, cities that are easy to defend but hard to attack, plus the fortifications I built–my own work! At the time, we lost these places so quickly, it proves that an unprepared army, one without morale, even with fortifications, is useless.

“The truly impregnable defense line exists in every soldier's heart.”

Wang Zhong: “Yes. Taking those fortified areas is expected to cause numerous casualties. Therefore, I believe that after we reach the borders of Kazakhstan this year, the direction of next year's offense…”

General Gorky: “From Kazakhstan, straight to the Baltic Sea, encircle and annihilate them on a large scale.”

Wang Zhong: “The enemy will also anticipate that we'll strike this way; it probably won't go smoothly.”

“Then it will be up to your trickery, you've always managed to bamboozle them every time. Enough about that, let's focus on this year's battles first.”

Having finished, General Gorky turned to leave, but Ludmila spoke up: “Won't the general stay for dinner? My husband has a Ceres chef…”

General Gorky: “I must catch a plane back to Headquarters immediately, so I won't be indulging in the Ceres chef's cuisine.”

Wang Zhong: “Don't worry, the rumor that you won't be able to come back after eating is just that, a rumor.”

“I'm not worried about that; I really have to catch a plane.” After saying this General Gorky took a few steps out, then remembered the Tsar was still sitting, turned back to salute, “Your Majesty, your servant takes his leave!”

“Go then.”

General Gorky then left the room.

Olga glanced at the door, then at Wang Zhong, and said: “You guys talking over an empty table as though it had a map, and even continuing the conversation…”

Wang Zhong: “Of course, we look at maps every day and have memorized the terrain, the key cities, like it's our hometown.”

For Wang Zhong, Argesukov was the starting point of his “affection” for this world, so calling it his hometown wasn't incorrect.

Wang Zhong looked toward his wife.

Ludmila did not speak, but her gaze was soft yet determined as she looked back at him.

Olga looked back and forth between the two, sighed softly, then perked up: “We will go back! We will definitely go back!”

Wang Zhong: “Yes.”

Prosen 301st Armored Reconnaissance Battalion, First Company.

Company Commander Schmidt led a platoon-level special reconnaissance team, equipped with two Cougar armored vehicles, two Type 2 tanks, and one radio car, racing across the prairie.

This was their third reconnaissance mission, with the primary goal of determining the location of the Antean defense line.

On Kazirlia's vast prairies, not knowing the location of the defense line meant not even knowing where to aim the artillery fire.

Commander Schmidt ordered the Cougar to stop, then stood up in the turret and raised his binoculars to scan the prairie ahead.

“There's nothing, at least I don't see anything!”

He had just finished speaking when the voice of the commander of the second vehicle came through his headset: “However, aerial reconnaissance indicates that the Anteans have carried out engineering work here, and we have photos.”

Schmidt: “Photos might be a ruse deliberately set up. The Anteans can work at night and conceal everything by day. It's been like that in other areas; the reconnaissance team must risk their lives to scout out their defense lines.”

At present, aerial reconnaissance was only effective in locating some large-scale engineering constructions, like heavy permanent supports built with reinforced concrete, which were nearly impossible to conceal from air surveillance during their construction.

But once the constructions ended, these supports would quickly vanish, swallowed up by the endless prairie. The Prosen staff could only roughly mark the locations of these supports and, based on previous reconnaissance photos, sketch the layout of these supports.

Besides these, anything else like trenches that could be dug out in a single night became practically invisible to aerial reconnaissance, leaving no choice but to send recon soldiers to probe for reality.

And such probing was essentially tantamount to scouting with their lives.

Schmidt observed for another minute, sighed, and ordered, “Send out a suicide squad, have them sneak over quietly.”

“Yes.”

Following a few commands, two suicide squad members crawled into the bush and began to advance on their bellies.

Schmidt nervously watched the two through binoculars, but they quickly disappeared into the wildly growing grass of early summer, with only the swaying of the grass vaguely revealing their positions.

Soon, even the movements in the grass became indistinct as the wind started to blow, creating waves of green across the prairie.

Commander Schmidt had a foreboding feeling.

Suddenly, a landmine detonated, and a fountain of earth erupted from the prairie, hurling helmets and weapons several meters high into the sky.

Flashes of light and smoke soon followed in the distance.

Schmidt immediately realized what was happening and yelled, “Direct fire!”

He leaped from the top of the Cougar reconnaissance vehicle to the side.

Almost simultaneously, an armor-piercing shell struck the Cougar, creating a string of sparks; about ten meters behind the Cougar, a mound of mud rose, clearly from the shell hitting the ground and ricocheting, carrying up this mud.

The Anteans had set the fuses on their armor-piercing shells incorrectly; they had shot right through the Cougar without detonating.

Schmidt, seeing stars from his fall, still struggled to get up and ordered, “Release the smoke! Mark the location of the anti-tank gun! And if you can take pictures, do it fast!”

However, more anti-tank shells came flying in.

The second Cougar had been penetrated by several shells, and although none of the shells detonated their fuses, the vehicle still burst into flames.

The two Type 2 tanks weren't so lucky; the first direct hit from an armor-piercing shell exploded.

Schmidt: “Radio! Quickly report the location of the enemy defense line to the rear! Release smoke!”

The surviving recon soldiers tossed the smoke bombs they carried, and the radio operator shouted, “We've pinpointed the enemy defense line's position! At coordinates…”

Schmidt, limping, climbed onto a motorcycle: “Quick, quick! Retreat! The enemy's mobile forces will soon come to annihilate us!”

The surviving Prosen soldiers jumped onto any available vehicles; since there were more survivors than expected, the motorcycles were packed with people, resembling those overhauled by a certain 'Brother Three'.

As the convoy fled, Schmidt turned to look back and saw the dust raised by the enemy's mobile forces.

“The enemy's chasing us! Judging by their speed, it might be Willys Jeeps!”

The Prosens were quite accustomed to the Anteans' extensive use of Willys Jeeps; indeed, the Prosens themselves favored the Willys Jeeps. If it weren't for the fact that driving them recklessly on the battlefield could lead to being mistaken for the enemy and shot by their own side, the Prosens would have probably phased out their Mercedes barrels long ago.

After running for a while, the pursuers drew closer–it wasn't a Willys Jeep but a six-wheeled armored vehicle with not only a heavy machine gun on its turret but also an unknown caliber gun!

Schmidt swore that the recognition manual issued by the High Command had no trace of this kind of armored vehicle.

(In reality, it was an M8 Greyhound armored car, armed with a 37 mm main gun and a .50 caliber M2 heavy machine gun)

The enemy opened fire, and the heavy machine gun's tracer bullets chased the Prosens across the prairie.

Schmidt hunkered down in the vehicle bed, shouting loudly, “Move, move! Once we reach our lines, we can shake off the enemy!”

Before he could finish, the enemy fired its main gun.

The shells hit in front of the motorcycle, creating craters; at high speeds, enough to flip both rider and bike.

Schmidt felt himself go airborne and then all consciousness cut out.

Chapter end

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