Cannon Fire Arc Chapter 769

Chapter 769: Chapter 26: Unity of the Military and the Citizens

Major Hauson of the Prosen 504th Independent Tank Destroyer Battalion heard the engine noise and looked up at the sky.

A red-painted Pei 3 Reconnaissance Aircraft was just flying over his battalion.

Shortly after leaving Hauson's field of view, the plane circled back, hovering at a few hundred meters' altitude, clearly observing the 504th Battalion.

The anti-aircraft machine guns of the No. 4 Tank Destroyers fired, but it was clear that the gunner had misjudged the range, with the tracer bullets falling to the ground short of the aircraft like urine.

Hauson wanted to use the binoculars to observe the aircraft, but it was moving too fast, and once he zoomed in, he would quickly lose the target.

After putting down the binoculars, Major Hauson thought of a rumor: Rocossov himself would board a red Pei 3 for reconnaissance and directly command the Air Force and ground troops in real time.

The entire Southern Group Army was abuzz with talk that after sighting the red Pei San, either the command post would be attacked by surprise Antean bombers, leaving commanders dead or injured,

or the enemy's fire would suddenly rain down without warning on the concealed troops, leaving commanders dead or injured,

or the Commandos, known as Whirlwind, would land at night and launch a raid, leaving commanders dead or injured.

Major Hauson broke out in a cold sweat.

He picked up the handset: “Ignore the Pei 3 in the sky, full speed ahead, Bogdanovka needs us!”

The red Pei San continued to circle around his own vehicle.

Major Hauson always felt that the person on the plane had his eyes on him.

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Could it really be Rocossov himself up there?

While he thought this, he switched his radio's frequency and called out on the frequency used by the Air Force pilots: “Calling any of our fighter pilots in the air right now, please respond if you hear this!”

All that came from the radio was static background noise.

Just as Major Hauson was about to call again, someone responded: “This is Air Force Communication Station 541, the fighters are protecting Bogdanovka against the enemy's heavy bombers and tactical bombers, there are no fighters available to cover your sector.

“By the way, we are also retreating.”

Major Hauson sighed and threw the handset on the top armor of the Tank Destroyer's Combat Room.

The voice of the Sturmgeschutz III assault gun battalion commander, which was advancing with the 504th, came through the headphones: “We should stop to repair the vehicles; several have reported abnormal sounds in the gearbox.”

Major Hauson firmly replied, “Let the vehicles with abnormal sounds stop for repairs on their own, make sure not to block the road. We must proceed at full speed. If there are infantry volunteers who stay behind to cover these crews, extend my highest respects to them.”

“Yes.” The morale of the assault gun battalion commander was clearly very low, “Two years ago, it was the Anteans who were left behind on this prairie as rear guards; everywhere were the bodies of Antean soldiers, and now in just two years, it has become our burial ground.”

Major Hauson: “It's not our burial ground yet! Watch your words!”

“Yes.”

“Battalion Commander!!” Suddenly a voice cut into the radio, “Look to the north!”

Major Hauson turned his head and saw dust rising from the ground.

He quickly raised his binoculars to observe: “Cavalry? No!”

Two tank destroyer battalions were sprinting down the highway, a high-standard highway the Prosens had spent over a year building after their occupation; no matter how fast the cavalry ran, they couldn't catch up to the war machines speeding on the highway.

There was only one possibility: it was the Antean Motorized Forces.

“Platoon Leader!” The driver of the leading vehicle of the Ante 155th Motorized Reconnaissance Battalion's Vanguard Platoon called out to the captain in the co-driver's seat, “We're all in jeeps, we can't deal with tanks!”

Captain Platoon Leader Short: “Shut up! The enemy isn't tanks, they're self-propelled guns, and they can be dealt with by manuevering!”

(Both armies had different names for turret-less artillery transporters, and some troops that hadn't fought alongside the Whirlwind Tank Destroyer Battalion mistook the 504th Battalion's equipment for self-propelled guns)

At this moment, the gunner operating the vehicle-mounted machine gun in the back seat said, “Platoon Leader, there's a red plane up there, looks like our Pe-2 (a typical identification error).”

Short: “I see it.”

The driver: “Could it be the Marshal watching us? Then we should make a move!”

The platoon leader put down his binoculars and fell into thought.

Then the radio operator in the back seat said, “Got a call, the other party says it's Marshal Rocossov.”

The platoon leader immediately stood up in the co-driver's seat and took the walkie-talkie: “Marshal Davarish, my unit is proceeding with the plan to infiltrate northwest of Bogdanovka!”

Marshal Rocossov: “I know, continue with your mission. However, I have a request for you; maintain visual contact with the Prosen forces south of you at all times. The mechanized infantry of the First Mobile Group Army is on the way, and you must keep them informed of the enemy's coordinates at all times. I'm running low on fuel and will need to pull out soon.”

“Affirmative! Mission guaranteed!” The platoon leader saluted the red Pei 2 in the sky with his chin up, using his free hand.

Because he was holding the walkie-talkie with one hand and saluting with the other, he now stood on the off-roading vehicle without holding onto anything.

But the captain still maintained a perfectly straight posture as if he were standing on solid ground.

Rocossov: “I trust you, over.”

As the voice fell, the red plane made a turn, skimmed over the heads of the motorized reconnaissance battalion, and flew towards the east.

Captain Short sat down, still holding the walkie-talkie: “You all heard that, maintain visual contact with the enemy until our mechanized troops catch up.”

The deputy company commander immediately said on the radio: “Why just maintain visual contact? Wouldn't it be better to rush in front of the enemy and occupy the high ground to await them? Our jeeps are fitted with 45mm anti-tank guns, and we also have anti-tank mines, we could fight a defensive battle!”

Captain Short thought for a moment and said, “That could work, Deputy, you take the third platoon to maintain visual contact, I'll take the first and second platoons to ambush ahead.”

Deputy company commander: “Wait! Isn't it customary that such deadly tasks should fall to me, the deputy company commander?”

“Obey the orders!” said the captain, “See you at the Martyrs' Cemetery.”

“Yes.”

Major Hauson watched the dust beside him gradually move forward with a sense of foreboding.

The red Pe-3 had already left, and according to the rumors, it would mean either death or injury for the commander of the 504th battalion.

It seemed that the good work was done by this Ante Motorized Forces that overtook them.

He pondered for a few seconds, took out the notebook kept in the Tank Destroyer's combat room on the right-side shelf, turned to the first blank page, and wrote:

“Today I saw the red Banshee of death, the legend goes that every commander who sees it will soon after be either dead or wounded.

“So I am writing this down, hoping that one day this notebook can be handed over to my wife and daughter.

“I am but an ordinary Prosen officer; I have done nothing to dishonor a soldier's glory, but I indeed neglected my comrades' atrocity towards the Anteans.

“Now, I am to pay the price for that neglect. I feel no reluctance; this is my retribution, a fated death.”

Ante's 155th Motorized Reconnaissance Battalion's pathfinder first and second platoons arrived at Hill 171.2 on the map at 2000 hours, only to find that there were already people there.

“Who goes there?” shouted the sentinel by the roadside in Antenese.

“Who are you!” Captain Short yelled back.

At the same time, the driver turned on the headlights, illuminating the entire road and causing the inquiring person to have to raise their hands to shield their eyes.

Under the glare of the headlights, a group of civilians in plain clothes carrying weapons were laying mines on the road.

A person dressed as a priest jumped out from the darkness and yelled, “It's a misunderstanding! Turn off the lights! Don't let the enemy spot us!”

Captain Short patted the driver's shoulder, and only then were the headlights extinguished.

Priest: “We are the Bogdanovka Uryupinsk District Brigade! Carrying out a task set by Marshal Rocosov, here to halt a mechanized corps of the enemy!”

Captain Short: “We are also here to intercept enemy mechanized forces, they are a Prosen self-propelled artillery unit! Estimated at seventy to a hundred and twenty self-propelled guns! You'll need the rocket launchers, anti-tank guns, and mines we brought.”

After speaking, he jumped down from the vehicle and extended his hand to the Priest.

The priest came forward and shook his hand: “We've been waiting for you, comrade!”

“Tell us about the situation! We're not familiar with the terrain and don't know where would be the best to ambush!”

Priest: “How to ambush? Just lie in wait by the roadside, and when the enemy tanks come, just hit them with the rocket launchers. We've also prepared incendiary bottles, just waiting for the mines to stop the enemy's advance.

“We've set up heavy machine guns on the hill to strafe the enemy infantry, and if the situation gets dire, we'll retreat to the hill for defense.”

Captain: “Once you've laid the mines, you can retreat to the hill, and just leave the incendiary bottles to us. If we're wiped out, you must continue to resist and keep the enemy here at all costs, as ordered by the Marshal.”

Priest: “The Marshal has also issued us orders. Don't worry, we have more experience using the incendiary bottles than you do.”

After he finished speaking, the guerrilla fighters beside him chimed in, “That's right, we've been throwing them for two years now, we even have a scoring table for burning enemy vehicles, where you can exchange points for vodka and Spam cans–although the cans taste bad now, no one wants them anymore.”

Another guerrilla fighter laughed, “I'd rather exchange for MP40 bullets stolen from the Prosens' warehouses, I mowed down six chain dogs last time (referring to Prosen Constitutional Guards).”

“It was just three.”

“Six! I swear it was six!”

The captain looked at these guerrilla fighters and suddenly realized that they might be more combat-capable than the green recruits under his command, and he agreed, “Alright, I'll leave the veterans who've been trained to use rocket launchers to work with you, and the rookies head up the slope!”

“Commander!” the driver immediately protested, “I don't want to go to the slope!”

“You can drive and are still in high school, you should go to the slope. Look at our land, it's ravaged. After the war ends, we'll rely on you to rebuild it. Obey the order.”

Local Priest: “Our commander is also doing political work now?”

The captain shook his head: “No, even the priest has become a martyr, and we haven't received a replacement, so I have to fill in for the time being. Alright, everybody off, hide the vehicles behind the slope.”

Chapter end

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