On August 20th, two days after the national funeral and public memorial, at the logistics headquarters of the Reserve Army.
As soon as Wang Zhong entered the Ordnance Department building, he saw several people replacing the signboard of the logistics headquarters of the Reserve Army.
He stopped and watched them put up the new signboard: Western Front Army Logistics Headquarters.
“This has been changed to the Western Front Army Logistics Headquarters, but where is the Reserve Army Headquarters?” Wang Zhong couldn’t help but ask.
“It’s still here. The Reserve Army and the Western Front Army have merged, and all logistics are now coordinated by Major General Chekhov,” replied the lieutenant, who was changing the signboards, before finally glancing at Wang Zhong and snapping to attention and saluting as if electrified, “General Rokossovsky!”
Wang Zhong: “Alright, alright, don’t be nervous, and stop shouting ‘Hurrah.’ I’ve had enough of people shouting ‘Hurrah’ every time they see me.”
It was a fact; now it seemed like the whole city knew him, and they all became as excited as if they had taken a stimulant whenever they saw him.
His speech at the national funeral seemed to have been broadcast directly throughout the world, and the old and young men of Ye Fort had all gathered under loudspeakers to listen to the entire speech.
Now, Wang Zhong was Ye Fort’s top celebrity, the kind who could make headlines with just a sneeze—of course, there were no such things as trending searches in this era, this is just a metaphor.
The excited lieutenant asked, “Can I get your autograph?”
Wang Zhong: “Alright, but you have to promise not to make a fuss and go around saying ‘Rokossovsky is here,’ and then I’ll sign.”
“I promise.”
A few seconds later, Wang Zhong handed the notebook with his signature back to the lieutenant and headed inside.
But he had only taken a few steps when he heard someone sharply inhale and the sound of papers hitting the floor: “General Rokossovsky!”
Wang Zhong sighed.
Twenty minutes later, Wang Zhong finally managed to push open the door of the logistics commander’s office.
Major General Chekhov glanced at him and said, “Don’t look so disdainful, this is your duty, which is better than reminding everyone that there are still hundreds of thousands of troops surrounded by the enemy. By the way, there is also bad news—the Northern Front Army has fallen back, and General Golikov’s St. Andrew Fort Army is now fully engaged with the enemy.”
Wang Zhong: “How are things looking?”
“General Golikov is defending using the complex terrain, and for now, it seems the enemy’s advance has been halted. Damn it, I’m a logistics commander, why am I discussing this with you? To understand the battlefield situation, go to the Military Command and look for General Tugenev. What are you here for now?”
Wang Zhong: “You said you haven’t given me enough trucks and tractors.”
“Because it’s not enough. I’ve already done my best to allocate them to you.”
Wang Zhong: “I got 3,000 drivers from the church! Although many of them are still in training and have not graduated. It would be such a waste for them to come and then find there are no vehicles to drive.”
Major General Chekhov: “Not a waste, we are short of vehicles all along the front. The Ordnance Department is producing tanks at full capacity.”
Wang Zhong: “But there’s a shortage of infantry for the tank units…”
“That’s not my department. I told you, I can only manage materials. If you tell me an infantry unit is lacking machine guns, I can help with that, and I can send extra to whichever infantry unit you mention. For example, you said Kashuk’s 51st Army, guarding the downstream crossing point from you, was lacking machine guns, so I sent them two hundred more.
“But if you want me to provide infantry for the tank units, that’s something I can’t do. I don’t control that; you understand? You can only submit suggestions to the superiors and write up summaries of your experience. I do have a suggestion for you, though—give your experience summary to Grand Duchess Olga, and maybe one day it’ll filter down.”
Wang Zhong: “I’ve done so.”
Major General Chekhov spread his hands: “Then there’s nothing more to be done.”
Wang Zhong scratched his head: “If you can’t provide enough vehicles, then can you give me more mules and horses?”
“No,” Major General Chekhov refused bluntly.
Wang Zhong: “A straight-up ‘no’? Not going to teach me any clever tricks this time?”
“You’re asking if it’s possible—no, it’s not, because your division is mechanized, and they shouldn’t have mules and horses; according to the regulations, this could impede the mobility of the mechanized troops. As for a trick, well, there could be one. Think about who you are, and what your brother’s status is.”
At first, Wang Zhong didn’t follow, but he quickly caught on: “You mean, I could organize my own mule and horse transport teams to go to the front?”
“I didn’t say that. But look, it’s quite normal for the big nobles to be so enthusiastic and organize support teams for the front.”
Wang Zhong slapped his thigh; the Ante Empire used the double-headed eagle as its emblem, and by rounding up or down, it was also Roman, so as a member of the Roman nobility providing mules and horses for front-line support, it was perfectly justifiable!
He immediately stood up, ready to leave the headquarters, when Major General Chekhov said, “By the way, could you give me an autograph? My son wants one.”
Wang Zhong was stunned: “You have a son?”
“Doesn’t it look like it? Come on, give me the autograph.”
————
August 25th, Ye Fort train station.
Wang Zhong was at the freight platform, watching the support troops he had recruited from the refugees boarding the train.
Most of the mules and horses for this support unit were provided by his own ranch, while the refugees were mainly middle-aged women, inspired by Wang Zhong’s speech.
They had handed their children over to childcare education institutions for centralized management and education, and came forward to offer support themselves. The childcare education institutions had been established at the request of Wang Zhong, and the children were taken care of by the elderly maids of the Rokossovsky family.
Wang Zhong had managed to obtain for them the status of hired civilian workers from General Tugenev, with uniform clothing provided and a monthly allowance.
This effectively solved the issue of insufficient logistics transport capabilities of the troops.
Now, these civilian workers in uniform were herding the mules and horses onto the train.
The train, apart from closed wagons and livestock cars for transporting the support troops, also had eight flatbed cars.
Three of them were used to transport T34 tanks that had been returned after repairs, one was used to carry a brand new Parade Tank, and the remaining four were all for transporting the freshly minted ZIS30 self-propelled anti-tank guns.
The ZIS30 anti-tank gun looked like a big cannon had been forcibly mounted on top of a tractor.
Just by looking at its shape, one could tell that it was a product made for emergency situations.
But Wang Zhong didn’t disdain it at all; in fact, he wanted more. In the game War Thunder, he enjoyed driving this vehicle to mess around and massacre newbies.
The only regret was that this vehicle wasn’t small enough; it couldn’t compare with the tiny M56 when it came to fooling around.
As soon as he got to Shostka, Wang Zhong definitely intended to teach his troops how to have fun with this thing. Setting up ambush positions and then running away—he couldn’t be happier with the plan.
He was overseeing the drivers summoned from the church as they loaded the vehicle onto a flatcar when a man in a suit and another man with a camera hanging around his neck appeared.
“Excuse me, are you General Rokossovsky?” the man in the suit asked, his Ante language noticeably accented.
“I am, and you are?”
“I’m a journalist from the Federation’s Hungry Lagoon Daily, and we plan to reprint your speech from the state funeral a week ago in its entirety. Additionally, we want to do an exclusive interview.”
Wang Zhong said, “Now? I’m about to return to the front line…”
At this point, the man with the camera spoke up, “Could you move a step to the left, please? That way I can use the tank and cannon as a backdrop.”
Wang Zhong had no objections to getting photographed, so he stepped to the left and even looked back to check: alright, he was perfectly blocking the gap between two railcars, with the smaller ZIS30 being transported on the front one, and a T34 on the back one.
The journalist from the Federation squatted in front of Wang Zhong and adjusted his position slightly to find a good angle, “Please don’t smile.”
“Don’t smile?”
“Right, keep a serious face. It harmonizes well with the tanks and cannons behind you.”
The next moment, the photographer pressed the trigger, the flash emitted a sharp ‘pop’ sound, spewing white light and quite a bit of smoke simultaneously.
Flashbulbs were like that in those days.
The photojournalist said, “Perfect, I feel like I could win this year’s Pulitzer, Mike.”
The man named Mike, the text journalist, said, “You see… If you have enough fame in the Federation, some things might develop in a way that’s favorable for your motherland.”
Wang Zhong replied, “Okay, I will accept your interview. How about this: you get on the train and interview me there. This train will unload cargo when it gets to Shostka and then return on its own. You can come back afterward.”
The journalist responded, “That works too.”
At that moment, Ludmila appeared, “This time, the train doesn’t have any freight cars; they’ve specifically attached a passenger car for us, and I’ve brought some fine tea and snacks from the estate.”
Before Mike could answer, the photographer requested, “Could you, madam, please take the general’s arm?”
Ludmila was taken aback, “Huh?”
The photographer explained, “There are no female officers in the Federation at present and you are so beautiful; our readers will like it.”
Mike offered a wry smile, “They’ll certainly like it; a beautiful woman, a military officer with distinguished service, and the tanks in the background—oh, they absolutely love these. If madam could wear a sheath dress, they’d like it even more.”
Ludmila said solemnly, “I am combat personnel, and like the male soldiers, I must wear cavalry trousers.”
A moment later, the second photo was taken, but the photojournalist didn’t mention the Pulitzer.
Wang Zhong teased, “What, my Liu Xia can’t win the Pulitzer?”
The photojournalist just smiled.
Liu Xia said, “Let’s get on board, gentlemen, the car is over there.”
————
The “passenger car” allocated to Wang Zhong by the train station’s central scheduler was an extremely luxurious noble’s private compartment.
The desk in the compartment looked a hundred times more luxurious than the old duke’s desk in the Rokossovsky Estate.
Behind the desk, there hung a shield decorated with the emblem of a Double-headed Eagle.
Seeing the compartment, Wang Zhong was dumbfounded: “What is this, have they given me the carriage reserved for His Majesty the Tsar?”
Before he could continue marveling, the photojournalist asked, “May I have you sit behind the desk, as if you’re signing documents?”
Wang Zhong replied, “No, no, that might spark misunderstandings.”
“But our readers like this.”
Wang Zhong had no choice but to sit behind the desk and pose as if signing documents.
At this juncture, Nelly came in from the direction of the dining car, pushing a trolley through the door. Seeing the two strangers, she frowned slightly but said nothing more.
Mike exclaimed, “Your life on the front line seems quite rich and varied.”
“Nelly is my orderly,” said Wang Zhong.
As soon as Wang Zhong finished introducing her, the photographer crouched in front of Nelly and snapped a photo: “Oh, fantastic, this boat cap and maid outfit, combined with her petite figure, our readers will love it.”
What’s with your readers, seriously!
Right then, the train’s departure whistle sounded from up ahead.
Text journalist Mike opened his notebook again, “Shall we start the exclusive interview?”