Cannon Fire Arc

Argesukov, Ante Army Southwestern Front Army Headquarters, 2330 hours.

"How far have they advanced?" General Skorobo leaped to his feet in shock.

The staff officer bowed his head to confirm the numbers on the report, then cautiously replied, "40 kilometers."

General Skorobo, "What about our troops? How could we let the enemy's armored clusters move forward forty kilometers?"

As the general roared with fury, the operation staff at the Front Army headquarters emotionlessly placed an arrow representing the enemy on the map to the south of Argesukov, near the coast.

The enemy's Southern Army Group's First Armored Cluster, the southernmost pincer of the entire pincer movement, had already penetrated 40 kilometers into our defenses.

Looking at the map, the defensive sector of the 35th Army Group, which was originally responsible for blocking the First Armored Cluster, had been split in two by the enemy like a sweet potato.

Still venting his rage, General Skorobo exclaimed, "Forty kilometers! Are the enemies holding a marathon in our defense sector?"

"General, sir," the chief of staff spoke up, "yelling at the communication staff is useless, it's not their fault the enemy has pushed forward so quickly."

General Skorobo hesitated for a few seconds, took a deep breath, "You're right. So what exactly is the 35th Army Group doing? They should have built defensive positions on the front line, shouldn't they?"

The Front Army chaplain said, "We also have fortifications along the border, yet the enemy still broke through."

At this point, the Crown Prince joined the conversation, "General, you yourself said that fortification is useless, it's out of date."

"When did I say that?"

Crown Prince, "Yesterday, when you were evaluating Rocossov's work at Orachi."

Mentioning Rocossov at this time sent a surge of anger through General Skorobo, "Don't mention that name!"

Front Army chief of staff, "Rocco——the fortifications of the 151st Division might be different from what we usually consider as defenses, we could have him share his experiences when we get the chance."

General Skorobo glared at the chief of staff, and at that moment his adjutant spoke, "It's Rocossov who kept saying that the enemies in the north would push southward, so all our defenses were focused up north. Having only one army group facing the enemy's First Armored Cluster based on past experience is definitely not enough."

Crown Prince slammed his hand on the table and stood, "Enough! Rocossov warned you that the enemies from the north would head southward. Did they move south? They did! He also said they would launch a pincers movement, and I remember he said exactly that! Did they pincer?

They did!

"He got it all right! So who was it that said everything was wrong? It was you! You said an army armed with new tanks would crush the enemy! Did it crush them?

"You said we could thwart the enemy's infantry assault, did we thwart them?"

Chief of staff, "Actually, we did thwart them. The enemy's infantry army group's attacks did not make much ground today; we even counterattacked and took back a town. Our infantry troops still have a strong will to fight."

The Crown Prince momentarily felt a bit embarrassed; he hadn't quite understood the state of the infantry assault, but that didn't stop him from continuing, "But your initial assessment was completely wrong! Because the enemy's main breakthrough and encirclement would be carried out by the armored clusters!

"Incidentally, it's still Rocossov who is holding back the northern pincer of the enemy!"

Chief of staff, "It's Rocossov and Duke Meishikin together holding them back, without Duke Meishikin, his single division would've already been encircled."

Crown Prince, "Regardless, they held them back! And his 2300 hours telegram said they destroyed more than sixty enemy tanks in a day!"

General Skorobo's adjutant remarked, "It sounds a bit low..."

"Because he actually destroyed more than sixty tanks! Now look at the 35th Army Group; they claimed to have destroyed more than a hundred of the enemy's tanks, so why could the enemy cut through their lines like slicing butter? Was it because the enemy deployed a thousand tanks?" the Crown Prince questioned the adjutant while tapping the table.

Chief of staff, "That front couldn't deploy a thousand, judging from the breadth of the enemy's breach, there should have been only about a hundred tanks. After the breakthrough, they fanned out and swept through our logistics."

Front Army chaplain, "The 35th should contemplate a retreat."

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The adjutant was at a loss for words.

While General Skorobo placed his hands on the map table, his palms covering his forehead, "Enough, that's enough, Mishka (nickname of the adjutant). Trying to maintain my dignity now is pointless, my dignity has already been lost by my own hand."

With that, the general lowered his hands.

For a moment, the Crown Prince thought he saw new wrinkles conjured up on the general's forehead.

The general looked toward the Crown Prince, "Your Highness, may I ask you to send a telegram to your father, persuading him to allow us to retreat?"

The Crown Prince, in turn, was startled, "Retreat? The enemy's pincer movement has advanced less than a hundred kilometers together, there's still a long time before they close the gap."

General, "Of course we will strive to delay the enemy, but now we should prepare for the worst. We still have some tank units, composed of T26s and BT series, and according to the frontline reports, these tanks can still penetrate the enemy's armor at the right distance.

"We also have enough Molotov cocktails to destroy the enemy's tanks in the carnage that's city combat.

"However, Your Highness, our south is a vast plain. Even if we can hold one or two cities, the enemy will flood over us like water over a dam."

When the general finished speaking, the chief of staff continued, "Unless our Air Force suddenly becomes as competent as the enemy's. I heard that the Air Force's Il-2 attack aircraft are quite effective, but currently, only one squadron is assigned to our Front Army.

"One squadron can delay a division, but cannot stop an entire armored cluster."

After the chief of staff finished, the room fell silent.

The Crown Prince sighed, "I'll give it a try. But I think with my father's stubbornness, he won't change his mind so easily."

General Skorobo, "Then we drag on until he changes his mind. I suggest you immediately fly back to St. Ye Katerina Fortress to persuade His Majesty the Tsar."

The Crown Prince showed a wry smile, "You don't understand my father, he... he's very sensitive. He appointed me to oversee the forces, and if I were to run back on my own, he would fly into a rage. He wouldn't be persuaded in such a state."

Silence descended once again.

As a general, he had heard enough about the Tsar's temperament.

The Crown Prince reassured, "Don't worry, I'll send a telegram to my sister. She's so smart, she'll definitely come up with a solution. Unless she has just angered our father, His Majesty will surely be persuaded!"

General Skorobo nodded, "Very well, I'll leave that to Your Highness. Now, we need to brace ourselves and strive to delay our retreat, to obtain a favorable situation for withdrawal."

The Front Army Chief of Staff suggested, "We could consider an infantry attack. If we can hold up the enemy's infantry and separate their armored groups from the rear, they might stop."

General Skorobo agreed, "We can try that."

The Crown Prince sat down, looked up at the mural on the ceiling, and silently prayed, "Olga, you must be persuasive. If you can't convince father, these troops will be sacrificed here."

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Orachi, headquarters of the 151st Temporary Infantry Division of the Ante Army, August 4th, 00:10 hours.

When Wang Zhong entered the room, Pavlov was surprised, "Why are you back? I thought you'd be asleep with the troops."

"I need to adjust our deployment," Wang Zhong said. "The enemy's bombing caused us the most damage today, so I want to take measures against their planes."

Wang Zhong approached a table displaying a detailed hand-drawn map of the Orachi area.

"Our anti-aircraft guns are currently protecting our artillery positions, but upon reflection, if the enemy discovers our artillery, the 25mm anti-aircraft guns from just one battalion won't be enough to stop them.

"However, if this battalion were pushed forward, it could cover our tanks and even engage enemy infantry if necessary. At the right angle, they could even fire on enemy tanks, like those makeshift ones, the Mark I and Mark II."

Today—yesterday, on August 3rd—the 151st Division destroyed more than sixty tanks, and those were Mark III and IV. The makeshift Mark II and the 38Ts were not even counted.

Pavlov nodded, "I have no objections."

Popov added, "Actually, I've checked the camouflage of our artillery positions. As long as they are not spotted by enemy reconnaissance planes flying at an ultra-low altitude, we should be fine. I'm referring to the 152 positions; the B4 is so big it might be spotted by enemy high-altitude reconnaissance."

Previously in Loktov, the B4 was placed within the city, making it easier to hide. Although Loktov was small, it was a railway hub with many factories.

Orachi only had two factories, one making iron pots and shovels, the other producing cheese and dairy products, and then there were the large ranches.

It was truly difficult to hide something as big as the B4.

Wang Zhong said, "No choice then, if necessary, we'll have to burn tires!"

"That's the problem," Popov spread his hands. "During my exchange with the local church, I learned about the city's situation: there aren't many tires to burn. We've tried our best to collect any, but they will be gone after burning them a couple of times."

Wang Zhong cursed, "Damn it, all we've destroyed are tanks, which don't have rubber tires to salvage."

Popov suggested, "Then let's try to fire as many shells as possible before we're discovered."

Wang Zhong agreed, "You're right. Now take over the B4 position and give the sleeping enemy a little surprise."

Pavlov asked, "Which village do you want to hit? Or... throw a round at each one?"

Wang Zhong replied, "Throw a round at each, let the rain fall evenly. If we hit them, it's a bonus."

Pavlov nodded, "Okay, I'll make the arrangements." And then he went to make a phone call.

Wang Zhong then turned to Popov, "Besides moving the anti-aircraft artillery battalion, tomorrow I plan to move half of the Divine Arrow Company to the front line."

Popov inquired, "To target the Stukas?"

"Exactly! It's not about how many we shoot down, but to make the enemy pilots wary. I remember clearly, back in Peniye, the enemy's Stukas were scattered like birds and beasts after a single Divine Arrow brought one down."

Popov admitted, "I wasn't part of your unit back in Peniye, but I trust your experience."

At that moment, Wang Zhong suddenly realized this was the accumulation of experience—tangible, touchable experience! He, too, was growing.

Popov, puzzled, asked, "General?"

"Oh, I just spaced out for a moment. Tomorrow, I want to send that little one, the one who talks tough... ah..." He paused, changing the perspective to look at the Divine Arrow Company's icon and consulted the roster.

"Yekaterina Andropovna Bolancheva—let her and two other prayers go to the front, while Ludmila continues to defend Orachi."

Popov commented, "That's reasonable. Bolancheva can ensure the shooting down of enemy planes. If it's just about deterring the enemy, you could even have her just guide the shots, firing one at a time, which might put even more pressure on the enemy."

Wang Zhong pondered, "Hmm... indeed, but I think we should fire all three shots at once for the first volley, to cause a substantial decrease in their numbers."

"That's possible."

As they finished talking, Nelly pushed the door open and entered with a basket in hand, "Would you like some late-night snack?"

"Just some yogurt for me," Wang Zhong said.

Nelly stared straight at him, "Only yogurt? No vodka? In the stories, the soldiers all hope their general eats meat and drinks heavily."

Wang Zhong responded, "I'm not a Khan from Kazarlia. Just some yogurt, please."

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