Chapter 138
Wang Zhong stopped again at the first ambush position and shouted, "Second Battalion Commander!"
The Second Battalion Commander immediately appeared and stood at attention in front of the horse, saluting: "General!"
"Withdraw from the position immediately and move to the third ambush position. Leave behind a hidden sentry with a signal flare."
The Second Battalion Commander confirmed again: "Withdraw from the position?"
"Yes. The enemy already knows the location of our first two positions. I suspect they'll shell them first. Your unit has excellently completed the task of defending against the enemy's night raid. No need to stay and be bombed."
The Second Battalion Commander saluted and shouted, "Yes," then turned and left.
Wang Zhong led the group toward the city, walking all the way to the third ambush position. Last night, the tank units camped here, and the tanks were parked in the lowest level of the emplacements, tightly covered by camouflage nets.
As soon as they entered the position, Wang Zhong saw the 3rd Battalion soldiers gathered around a pot drinking leftover soup from yesterday.
Wang Zhong said, "You're drinking cold soup-careful you don't get diarrhea."
Everyone froze, then burst into laughter.
Wang Zhong looked confused: "What's so funny?"
"General, who gets diarrhea just from drinking a bit of cold soup?" someone asked.
Don't they?
Wang Zhong's father, who stayed on Earth, always taught him to reheat leftovers before eating them-not only to avoid diarrhea, but also for hygiene-so he always thought that way.
Seems like the Russkies aren't so particular.
Of course, maybe it's because the Russkies live at higher latitudes, where it's cold and food doesn't spoil easily-their stomachs are used to the cold.
Probably.
A soldier shouted to Wang Zhong, "General, won't you have some?"
Wang Zhong felt his stomach-he had ridden for two hours this morning and was indeed hungry.
"Alright, I'll have some."
"Come on, General, you've got to try this-it's delicious, even cold! Look, it's even congealed-this frozen stuff is the best, all yours!"
Wang Zhong got off his horse and mingled with the soldiers, taking big bites of the soup that had turned to jelly.
It really was delicious-rich but not greasy, with a tang of sour cream.
"This is truly good stuff," Wang Zhong praised. "Come on, everyone, have a bit."
At that moment, the 2nd Battalion arrived, moving along the road into the position. The one in front glanced at the battalion commander and the regimental chaplain, confirmed they wouldn't be scolded, then shouted, "3rd Battalion, what tasty stuff are you guys eating?"
"Leftover soup from last night! Come over and eat with us!"
Just then, artillery shells howled through the sky.
Before, rookies would freeze while veterans hit the ground. Today, the rookies all dropped immediately upon hearing the whistling, and the veterans were still standing.
"Don't be scared!" a veteran shouted, "They're not bombing us."
As soon as he said that, a plume of smoke from an explosion rose at position one of the ambush zone.
Immediately after, position two also exploded.
The enemy's artillery rained down furiously on those two positions.
Meanwhile, Wang Zhong, with his armored troops and two infantry battalions, watched them waste firepower from position three.
The trenches at position three were dug especially deep, enough to hold three full battalions. It was originally built as both a standby reserve and main defensive position.
Precisely because position three had such capacity, the field cooking team brought meals for all three battalions yesterday.
The two battalions' soldiers divided and ate the leftover soup while watching the enemy waste firepower.
Wang Zhong heard someone ask, "General, did you predict all this?"
He looked at the speaker and saw it was one of the trio who had been caught sneaking off to loot enemy corpses this morning.
That big-headed soldier shrank under Wang Zhong's gaze, clearly flustered, trying to change the subject.
Wang Zhong smiled and replied, "Just a bit of basic military knowledge. The enemy will definitely shell our exposed positions first, so we withdraw and let them waste their prep."
"If the enemy is aggressive and advances during their barrage and we can't retake the position in time, then we'll shell it ourselves."
"Of all the trenches we built, only the one you're in now has decent anti-artillery protection. The first two are shallow trenches-if shelled, the enemy will definitely suffer heavy casualties."
The soldiers listening to Wang Zhong all lit up with understanding:
"So that's why!"
"The General is a genius!"
Actually, this wasn't Wang Zhong's own idea-it was printed in black and white in the postwar Soviet tactics manual.
While Wang Zhong was basking in the soldiers' praise, the 3rd Battalion's communications operator came running with a field phone line: "General, call from the rear!"
Wang Zhong took the receiver: "This is Rokosov. Who's speaking?"
"This is the artillery observation post on Hill 153, General. We see enemy tank units maneuvering to our west. They're maneuvering westward! The number is..."
Actually, even without the report, Wang Zhong had already seen it using the overhead vantage point.
It wasn't his own eyes, so it didn't light up the map, but it was clear enough to understand the situation.
It looked like about one and a half armored battalions of Type 3 and Type 4 tanks were maneuvering west of Hill 153, and in front of them-was that a large swarm of Type 1 and Type 2 tanks?
The Prossenian tank divisions, like Earth's Third Reich, had rich and poor divisions.
It all depended on the proportion of Type 3s and 4s.
Some poorer divisions might have over a hundred Type 1s and 2s just to fill numbers, with only one battalion of Type 3s and 4s combined.
The Asgard Knights' Amplar Division, which fought the 151st Division yesterday, also had some filler Type 2s, but over half the division consisted of Type 3s and 4s.
And that division had no Type 1s-the worst was Type 2. Some of the filler tanks were even 38Ts, which were actually decent.
So the Amplar Division yesterday was definitely a rich division.
Now, seeing this swarm of cockroach-like Type 1 tanks, Wang Zhong immediately realized the force in front of him wasn't just that one rich division.
Good grief-how is my one infantry division supposed to fight two armored divisions?
Thank goodness this new one is a poor division-if another rich one showed up, we'd really be screwed.
While Wang Zhong was observing the situation, the artillery observation post, unaware of his view, asked anxiously, "General? General? What should we do? The enemy tanks are moving fast-they'll cut off our supply line!"
Actually, the 151st Division wasn't heavily reliant on the supply line at the moment. They'd stockpiled a lot beforehand, so even if it was cut, they could hold out for a few days.
Besides, Duke Meshkin's forces were holding the side. Even if Agsukov's supply was cut, Duke Meshkin could send supplies from his end.
But Wang Zhong's main purpose in holding this position was to give Agsukov's Ant unit a way out.
Getting the highway cut off-how is that a way out?
Of course, Wang Zhong had prepared for this. He had deployed eight anti-tank guns on Hill 153. Although they were only 45mm, they could still deal with Type 1 and 2 tanks.
As for the enemy's Type 3 and 4 tanks...
Wang Zhong decided to leave them to the T26s of the former 13th Armored Battalion of the 5th Tank Army.
Based on yesterday's combat experience, the new tank emplacements could effectively prevent enemy detection of ambushing tanks. Even if spotted, they were hard to hit effectively.
Yesterday, Wang Zhong's T34 fired from an emplacement and exchanged shots with the enemy-the enemy shells mostly missed the T34.
Given that, letting the T26s enter the emplacements to slow the enemy attack shouldn't be a problem.
So Wang Zhong ordered the observation post: "Put the anti-tank guns on alert-fire when the enemy approaches. I'll order the 13th Armored Battalion of the 5th Tank Army to reinforce Hill 153 and help you break the enemy."
"Remember to guide the T26s into the tank emplacements."
"Yes, sir!"
Wang Zhong hung up the phone, picked up the receiver from Vasily's walkie-talkie, and said to him, "Change frequencies-to the 13th Armored Battalion of the 5th Tank Army."
Vasily: "It's already on that frequency-just call."
Wang Zhong: "White Horse calling Crippled Wolf, White Horse calling Crippled Wolf."
"This is Crippled Wolf-finally got a mission for us?"
Wang Zhong: "Proceed to Hill 153, proceed to Hill 153, over."
"Understood! White Horse, this time we'll get to hit the enemy, right?"
The 5th Tank Army had barely fought before being wiped out, so the 13th Battalion commander asked that. They had chosen "Crippled Wolf" as their radio call sign, probably out of frustration.
Wang Zhong: "You'll hit them-and this time, you'll win! Hit them hard!"
----
At the same time, Agsukov, the Crown Prince, was pacing anxiously at headquarters.
Finally, the communications officer pushed the door open, saluted the Crown Prince: "Your Highness! A reply from the capital has arrived!"
The Crown Prince beamed: "Is it from my younger sister? Or has she convinced Father already?"
The communications officer looked awkward and handed over the message: "Please read it yourself."
Since it required decoding, the communications officer had surely read it. The Crown Prince couldn't understand his expression, so he snatched the message and began reading: "Dear Older Brother, I'm sorry. I already angered Father yesterday, and the generals say unless you suffer a major defeat, Father won't order a retreat. I will try again once Father calms down."
The Crown Prince-Ivan Nikolayev Antonov-looked up and sighed deeply: "My younger sister, what are you doing!"
He clasped his hands as if to crumple the telegram, but halfway through, he stopped, then gently unfolded it and handed it to General Skorobo.
The General looked embarrassed: "Your royal family's telegrams are... not ideal, huh?"
"Indeed." The Crown Prince handed the telegram back to the communications officer. "Dispose of it. I don't want history to know this happened."
Everyone else in the room looked equally awkward.
After all, hearing that an entire Front was wiped out just because the Emperor threw a tantrum sounded absurd.
The Crown Prince watched the communications officer burn the telegram to ash before finally asking General Skorobo: "Can we send reinforcements to Rokosov?"
The General's face darkened: "His defensive line hasn't failed yet, but to our south, the enemy's armored cluster is rapidly advancing. Any reinforcements now must go south."
Just then, another communications officer rushed in with a message: "Report! Urgent message from the 35th Army Group-they can't seal the breach! The enemy is surging through like a rising tide!"
General Skorobo looked at the Crown Prince: "You see. I have no justification to send reserves to a place that appears to be holding. It's not that I have anything against General Rokosov-I admit he's an outstanding commander-but..."
The Crown Prince sighed: "I understand. Let's see if my younger sister can do anything... she..."
Suddenly, the Crown Prince slapped his forehead: "My sis doesn't have my seal! It's over."
Alliance leader Zybell Extra update
(End of Chapter)