Arc of Fire

Chapter 711: Chapter 49 End of the Road

As Weidel’s words fell, a shell hit the distant number four gun position.

At last, the Anteans discovered the exact location of the artillery!

The fuse of the high-explosive shell was triggered by the anti-shield of the number four gun, immediate bursts of flash and dense smoke engulfed the barrel, and the shockwave swept through the entire position, tearing the camouflage nets and the low walls of sandbags to shreds.

All gunners at number four gun were flung into the air, with the one who flew the furthest landing directly on Weidel’s head, ripping through the camouflage net and hitting the floor behind Weidel.

Sand caught by the camouflage net fell like a waterfall onto Weidel’s large cap.

Weidel looked down at the flying gunner and found that he hadn’t been knocked unconscious and was subconsciously trying to sit up.

"Medic!” Weidel yelled.

Immediately, a sergeant with a Red Cross armband rushed over to check the gunner.

Weidel raised his head to look at number four gun and saw that the entire emplacement was twisted out of shape, the mantlet had a huge dent that clearly showed where the high-explosive shell had exploded.

The surroundings of the gun position were shredded by shell fragments, and the ammunition boxes were riddled with holes, fortunately, the shells inside weren’t detonated.

"General!” the Deputy Officer shouted loud, “You must leave here right now

Before he could finish, another shell landed on the position.

Ante tanks started firing at the now exposed location.

High-explosive shells exploded in rapid succession on the position.

Weidel ducked into a communications trench, pressing his large cap against the wall with his hands.

The Deputy also followed, shouting amidst the artillery fire, “General! Retreat now!”

Weidel pushed him away, “No! I will hold out here to the very end!”

"General!” The Deputy approached again, reaching out to grab Weidel’s shoulder.

Weidel pushed him with much force this time, toppling the Deputy to the other side of the trench.

"Damn it! Don’t you see? The nature of war has changed! What awaits us now is endless holding and retreating! I might not be the first Prosen general to share a fate with the position, and surely won’t be the last!” Weidel glared at the Deputy, “If you want to run, then run.”

Having said that, Weidel picked up the submachine gun that had just fallen to the ground, patted the dirt off of it, and switched off the safety.

Just then, a catastrophic ammunition explosion occurred at number two gun position nearby, and the blast blew away Weidel’s large cap, fully exposing his balding head.

Machine guns from nowhere began firing, their sound overpowering the wails from the anti-aircraft position like ripping canvas.

Weidel, holding the submachine gun, walked towards the source of the machine gun fire along the communications trench.

The Deputy struggled to get up, following the general, completely unaware that his golden Deputy Officer’s sash had been severed by a fragment and was now dangling from his belt. 𐍂ÃꞐỐ฿Еš

Before Weidel could reach, the machine gun fell silent.

The sound of tank engines was now very close.

Weidel looked out of the trench and saw a tank loaded with infantry charging over a nearby trench.

The tank was notably low, with the body feeling flattened on the side, only a thin layer above the tracks before the turret.

The tank’s turret was odd, like a pot lid turned upside down, designed to distinguish it from the squarely welded Prosen turrets.

Caught by surprise, Weidel didn’t initially realize the benefits of this cast turret, finding it merely comical.

After all, since the advent of tanks, turrets had been square.

While firing, the pot-lid-headed tank rolled over the trenches. The infantry on its back jumped off one by one, rolled on the ground to buffer, then stood up and started firing.

Most of the Military Department’s Guard Corps soldiers were still equipped with 98K rifles, which were no match in close combat against the fully automatic weapons of the Ante Soldiers.

Moreover, these Ante Soldiers all wore Guards’ capes—referred to as “Cape Roaches” by the veterans.

Despite being dubbed roaches, no one dared to underestimate the combat prowess of the Guards veterans.

Even the most stubborn Prosen veterans had to admit that many among the Anteans had become fearsome warriors.

Weidel raised his submachine gun and pulled the trigger vigorously, only to find the gun, which had just taken a “mud bath,” jammed!

After several trigger pulls failed to fire, Weidel remembered to clear the jam and yanked hard on the charging handle.

An unfired bullet was ejected into the air by the catch, but the handle stuck while resetting.

It appeared sand had gotten into the gun mechanism, mixing with the oil.

While Weidel wrestled with his submachine gun, a stern voice exploded in front of him, “Freeze! Drop your weapon, and we won’t shoot!”

The Deputy fired his pistol, hitting the Antean Priest who had shouted in the chest.

As the Priest fell backward, he pulled the trigger, and the Thread Cutter made a fart-like “pfft pfft” sound.

Weidel was hit multiple times, the medals on his chest shattered by the “flying weights” fired from the Thread Cutter, scattering everywhere.

As he fell, he was still slightly conscious, a mercy considering the weights had smashed his upper body but spared his brain, which occasionally allowed a few seconds of lingering.

Weidel looked at the sky, suddenly thinking of his wife in his hometown, watching the same sky.

This rare bit of poetry for such a stern Prosen.

Podoliskov drove the jeep, plowing through the sandbags blocking his way, and charged into a makeshift “yard” formed by other vehicles.

The gunner operated the M2 venerated machine, initially sweeping through the area violently, only to find the “yard” was already empty—the bullets noisily hitting the metal of the surrounding vehicles.

"Goodness!” Podoliskov adjusted his cap, which had skewed during the furious driving, and picked up his submachine gun, “With all these antennas on the vehicles, this must be a command center?”

(Indeed it was)

Podoliskov jumped out of the jeep and ran straight towards the largest armored vehicle.

Reaching the vehicle, he immediately spotted a map hanging inside and shouted, “Over here! There’s a map inside! It must be the command vehicle!”

He leaped up onto the small ladder at the entrance of the vehicle and crawled inside.

A Prosen soldier screeched and charged at him, brandishing a dagger.

Podoliskov knocked the dagger out of the soldier’s hands with the butt of his gun, then kicked the Prosen across the map room, following up with a short burst of gunfire.

"Fucking hell!” he cursed, “Should I have captured him alive?”

The gunner also entered, eyeing the dead Prosen, “No need to panic, captain. He wasn’t an officer, probably just an orderly or a guard; we wouldn’t get much intel from him.”

Podoliskov relaxed slightly, scanning the carriage crammed with maps, “Goodness, what level of command center is this? It has to be a division, right? With all those antennas outside!”

The gunner remarked, “Possibly, didn’t you study map recognition?”

"I took a crash course; I can understand the basics, figures out coordinates, but I never studied proper military cartography! Asking me to identify it is impossible,” Podoliskov shook his head vehemently. “Before the war, I was just a tractor driver!”

Just then, the phone rang.

Both turned tensely, guns aimed at the telephone.

"That scared the hell out of me!” Podoliskov picked up the receiver, then remembered he didn’t speak Prosenese and urgently asked the gunner, “What do Prosenese say when they answer the phone?”

The gunner replied, “I don’t know! The Prosen phrasebook the Front Army issued only has ‘surrender or you won’t be harmed,’ ‘Ante Army treats prisoners well.

Podoliskov shouted into the phone, “Hello! Surrender or you won’t be harmed!”

Marshal Geron hung up the receiver and looked up at his newly promoted Chief of Staff.

"What’s wrong, Marshal?” the Chief of Staff inquired.

"Second Armored Army of Asgard is done for; they reported they had a hundred tanks this morning, a quarter of which were the new model Six,” Marshal Geron informed.

The Chief of Staff quickly gestured to another officer, who then placed a ‘defeated’ marker on the icon representing the Second Armored Army.

Currently, there were only ten staff members in the Army Group Command, and ranks were generally low, with the Chief of Staff being merely a Major, hastily assembled from other areas.

Marshal Geron stared at the map, pondered for a moment, then declared, “We must start retreating to Shepetovka. Otherwise, Rocossov’s pincer movement will completely envelop us.”

The new Chief of Staff hesitated before replying, “Alright, I’ll start preparing the retreat plan!”

Geron looked at him and sighed, “You should have first questioned me, reminded me that His Majesty wouldn’t agree to a retreat.”

"Uh, His Majesty won’t agree to a retreat!”

The Marshal shook his head and walked towards the coat rack, “Nevermind, I’ll just move the Army Group Command to the Second Army Group’s Headquarters; at least that can be somewhat useful. Prepare the vehicle! Also, inform the Second Army Group to get ready for retreat!”

"What about His Majesty?” the new Chief of Staff asked.

"I’ll call him, from the Second Army Group’s Headquarters, of course.”

"Looks like the New Medium tanks had a draw with the enemy’s heavy tanks,” Pavlov handed the report to Wang Zhong, “but their mounted infantry had rocket launchers, so they managed to destroy all the enemy’s heavy tanks with infantry firepower.”

Wang Zhong glanced at the report, a bitter smile on his face, “Using tank-riding anti-tank infantry to fight tanks; feels like something only the Baharians could pull off.”

Vasily interjected, “No, if it were the Baharians, a whole platoon would jump off a single tank; we aren’t that exaggerated.”

"Have you ever seen Baharians?” Wang Zhong inquired.

Vasily was in military academy, cramming military staff tutorials when Baharian troops were meeting up with those from the United Kingdom in Balas.

"I’ve heard from those who participated in the Balas expedition,” Vasily answered.

Pavlov coughed, steering the conversation back to relevance, “As of now, the enemy’s organized armored troops have been nearly annihilated. We still have some intact armored brigades, which should complete the encirclement within days.”

"But this time, the enemy might actually flee, just like they continually escaped our encirclement in last summer’s campaign,” Wang Zhong pointed out.

"Yes, and this time they have that newly repaired railway and high-standard roads from Shepetovka; they might actually get away,” Pavlov suggested, “I propose that the front-line troops, which have been engaging in diversionary attacks, also join the strike, not giving the enemy a chance to organize a retreat.”

"Do we have enough artillery?” Wang Zhong asked.

"Of course,” Pavlov said.

"Then let’s start tomorrow; our warriors have been engaged in diversionary attacks for nearly two weeks, they must be impatient.”

"Definitely, this is more effective than any mobilization,” Popov added.

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