“The Holy War” was fermenting, and Wang Zhong stood in formation on the parade ground of the Summer Palace with 450 officers poised to receive commendations.
Wang Zhong was unsurprised to find that most were familiar faces from the dinner the night before.
Upon seeing Wang Zhong, they all came to shake hands with him after saluting.
————-
General Tukhachev stood on the reviewing stand, observing the scene.
His adjutant whispered in his ear, “It’s confirmed that Major General Rokossovsky has placed an order for 100 Parade Tanks on behalf of the Royal Family, Valentin is furious, claiming that producing such ‘toy cars’ is mocking his perfect design.”
Before General Tukhachev could respond, Marshal Semyon said, “The frontlines indeed have given a lot of feedback, there’s considerable opposition to removing the tank commander’s role, and some would rather command a T28 tank with a commander than operate a T34.
As for the radios, there’s unanimous criticism for designs without radios and many makeshift solutions have been tried, including running telephone wires between tanks.”
“But Valentin’s design is much loved by His Majesty the Tsar,” said Tukhachev.
Marshal Semyon fell silent, but after a moment added, “The battlefield doesn’t change for personal preferences. Not even for His Majesty the Tsar. Now that His Majesty cannot attend to state affairs, we should take the opportunity to…”
At this moment, General Tugenev interjected, “No, no, the sudden drop in production due to the factory relocation is already an issue, a change in design now would only worsen the tank output. We should continue producing the flawed designs first and then gradually increase the production of the designs that receive positive feedback from the battlefield.”
“That would also placate Valentin a bit, wouldn’t it?”
Tukhachev and Marshal Semyon both fell silent.
Just then, Her Imperial Highness the Grand Duchess appeared in a corner of the parade ground with a group of maids of honor and headed straight towards the reviewing stand.
Tukhachev glanced at the Grand Duchess, then followed her gaze to Major General Rokossovsky.
“He’s almost like a prince himself,” Tukhachev muttered, “Did you hear that the song he wrote stole the show at the selection meeting yesterday? His stature is almost like that of Saint Andrew reincarnated.”
Marshal Semyon said, “This is good for Ante, uniting the officers.”
Tukhachev remained silent.
Then the Grand Duchess approached the reviewing stand and greeted Tukhachev and the others, “Hello, generals and marshals.”
“Good day, Your Imperial Highness,” Tukhachev and the others saluted the Grand Duchess in kind.
The Grand Duchess said, “For today’s ceremony, I’m only responsible for presenting the Gold Star Medals, right?”
“There are also the flags for the new units being granted the title of Imperial Guard. You don’t have to actually carry the flag; simply receive it from the color bearer and hand it to the unit’s commanding officer. The command officers will pass the flags to the sergeants standing by.
It’s really just a formal part of the process—the flags and equipment will later be delivered to the respective units by the transport team,” General Tugenev explained dutifully.
The Grand Duchess inquired, “And what about the other honours? Surely not everyone is being awarded the title of Imperial Guard and the Gold Star Medal? With so many honours, I would begin to suspect that we have actually won, and the Prussians are nearly finished.”
“No,” Marshal Semyon shook his head, “there are indeed many Gold Stars, but not many Imperial Guards. The title primarily requires that units retreat in formation. There are many units that would qualify for the honor based on their achievements but have not pulled back.”
The Grand Duchess looked sad, “Is that so. I understand. And the others?”
“They are for various other medals, which we will be presenting. Your Imperial Highness, you will only handle the Imperial Guards and the Gold Stars,” General Tugenev advised.
The Grand Duchess nodded, “Very well! Let’s not delay any further, begin the ceremony.”
Suddenly, she paused, looking puzzled at the Guard flag formation that had just marched into the area.
Among the pristine white Imperial Guard flags, there was one red flag interspersed.
Tukhachev immediately turned to his adjutant, “What’s going on? Why is there a red flag?”
The adjutant replied, “There wasn’t supposed to be. The flag allotted to Rokossovsky’s unit was a normal Imperial Guard flag with a blessing from Grand Duchess Olga on it.
“But the Church interfered with our decision. The delay in yesterday’s award ceremony was because of this. The red flag was the Church’s demand, and they even insisted on adding an image of a falcon holding a spear to the flag.”
Olga slightly tilted her head, “A falcon holding a spear? What is that?”
Surprisingly, no one present could answer the Grand Duchess’s question.
Seizing the opportunity to distinguish himself before the Grand Duchess, Tukhachev’s adjutant said, “It is a bird of prey from Kazarlia, typically found in the grasslands.”
Olga uttered a curious “eh,” not even glancing at the adjutant, and turned back to look at General Rokossovsky, “The eagle of the grasslands, quite fitting for him.”
Tukhachev sighed, “We have no precedent for using red flags; the Church intends to destroy our traditions.”
“I’ve heard about that,” the Grand Duchess Olga said with a smile, “The red symbolizes the blood of the fallen soldiers, a display stained with their sacrifice. This interpretation has spread widely, don’t you know?”
Tukhachev turned away.
Grand Duchess Olga urged, “Let’s start the ceremony quickly!”
————-
The ceremony hadn’t yet begun, but Wang Zhong had already spotted the red Imperial Guard flag, which would likely be presented to his own temporary 151st Infantry Division. The only uncertainty was what the new number would be.
There couldn’t possibly be another 30 Imperial Guard divisions ahead of his, could there?
But truth be told, among all the white-and-blue flags, a single red flag was really eye-catching. Regardless of the number, that red flag had already made Wang Zhong the most striking figure out there.
The ceremony officially began, and the military band started playing the national anthem of the Ante Empire.
When Wang Zhong heard the national anthem, his brow furrowed into a pretzel.
He had assumed that for the Tsar, the anthem would be “God Bless the Tsar.” If one wanted a bit of a retro feel, it would be the “Preobrazhensky Regiment March.”
If it were the era of a Female Tsar, then it would be “The Thunder of Victory,” since the lyrics did include “Glory to you, Mother Ekaterina the Great Emperor.”
But now, upon hearing the tune, Wang Zhong nearly lost his composure.
He was all too familiar with this piece. Subconsciously, he turned his head to confirm the flag, and indeed it was Ante’s white field blazoned with the blue Saint Andrew’s cross and the Double-headed Eagle.
At this moment, people around him started to sing along, and only then did Wang Zhong sigh in relief.
The lyrics were wrong, these words were praising the Tsar.
Wang Zhong hummed along with the person next to him, managing to get through the song at long last.
The princess then stood at the forefront of the Parade Stand and began reciting her speech. The gist of it was to thank everyone for their valiant efforts blah blah blah, in the end, it was still the same old glory to the monarchy spiel.
The speech concluded, and General Tugenev, whom Wang had met several times before, came forward: “We shall now proceed with the award ceremony. First, we shall present the Imperial Guard flags. This time, a total of 11 units have been granted the title of Imperial Guard.”
Wang Zhong thought that to produce 11 Imperial Guard units in just over a month, given the retreat situation, indicated an enormous intensity of combat.
Tugenev called out the name of the first unit: “The 151st Temporary Infantry Division. This division faced enemy forces several times its number at Orachi, resisting stubbornly for three days, destroyed more than 200 enemy tanks, successfully completed its mission, and managed to break out.”
“For this valiant performance, the Military Command hereby awards the division the title of the First ‘Red Banner’ Mechanized Infantry Division of the Imperial Guard!
“Major General Aleksei Konstantinovich Rokossovsky of the division, please come up to the stand to receive the flag!”
Wang Zhong strode out, letting his body’s muscle memory carry him with precise military steps up to the Parade Stand.
The princess, with a stern face, handed the red flag to Wang Zhong.
Curious, Wang Zhong glanced at the emblem on the flag, only to discover it wasn’t a Double-headed Eagle, but an… Eagle?
What did that mean? They cut off one head of the Double-headed Eagle to stew it?
Or did they think the Double-headed Eagle wasn’t Roman enough, being a Byzantine emblem after all, and that to be truly Roman, they needed to adopt the original Roman eagle standard instead?
But was there even a Rome in this world?
As Wang Zhong puzzled over this, Olga whispered, “Quickly come down, O Eagle of the Steppe.”
That meant others were waiting to receive their flags. Wang Zhong turned his head and saw General Tugenev waiting; he couldn’t proceed until Wang left the stand.
So, Wang Zhong handed the flag to the ready attendant and descended from the Parade Stand with large strides.
The Imperial Guard flags were quickly distributed, and next up was the Gold Star Medal ceremony.
Wang Zhong and the other recipients of the Gold Star made their way to the Parade Stand, looking to be about a hundred in number.
Olga approached Wang Zhong once more—starting with him again since he was deemed the “first in merit.”
As she pinned the medal on Wang Zhong, Olga softly hummed “Katyusha.”
Well, what do you know, the Eagle of the Steppe is right here!
There’s a line in “Katyusha” that goes “she’s singing of the eagle of the steppe,” and the following line is “she’s singing of the one she loves.”
Could we not be so on the nose?
But now it’s the era where women are direct, and men are elusive, watch me deflect this one.
Wang Zhong intended to showcase his world-class evasive maneuver skills, but Olga had moved on to award the next person.
Wang Zhong, having no chance to evade!
Nevermind, maybe I’m overthinking it? Perhaps she just felt like humming “Katyusha.”
Wang Zhong successfully performed a mental sidestep.
The ceremony continued for another half-hour, and Wang Zhong’s legs went numb from standing. Fortunately, he didn’t have to carry the flag; it would be sent directly to Shostka.
Just when everything was over, an air raid alarm suddenly sounded nearby.
Wang Zhong felt like the Prussians had timed it perfectly to bomb the capital right at the end of the ceremony.
Under the guidance of the Royal Palace staff, Wang Zhong followed other officers into an air-raid shelter quickly, only to learn just after entering that the alarm had been lifted.
It turned out the Mig-3 units guarding the capital had repelled the enemy bombers on the outskirts.
Wang Zhong breathed a huge sigh of relief. The award ceremony was over, and now he had one last thing left to do in the capital: attend the state funerals of his father and his good brother and deliver a speech.
The thought alone gave Wang Zhong a headache, wondering from whom he should plagiarize the speech?
The last time he tried writing his own speech, the results were lackluster. He really needed to copy someone else’s.
The good news was, the state funeral would be on the 18th, and today was only the 13th; he still had five days to stew in his worries.