The enemy’s artillery preparation continued until seven o’clock in the morning.
Unlike the previous artillery preparations, this time Wang Zhong and the others sat on chairs and endured the barrage.
After all, the bunker was well-constructed, posing little danger unless it was directly hit by heavy artillery.
A direct hit might also be harmless, considering the bunker was topped by an entire building reinforced with steel and concrete, having been converted from an original basement.
Wang Zhong looked out from the observation post. By now, the sun had risen, offering an unobstructed view of the entire west bank, where no figures could be spotted, with or without the help of cheats.
Vasily monopolized the artillery periscope and after a long watch commented, “It’s so quiet, I can’t hear any enemy tank engines at all.”
Even Brother Peter had not heard the engine sounds, which meant the enemy was likely confounded by the counter-artillery preparation.
Just then, the telephone rang. Wang Zhong said, “It’s probably Brother Peter. He must have heard the tank engines and is calling to notify us.”
Pavlov picked up the phone: “Division headquarters, what’s the situation? Alright, keep monitoring.”
After hanging up, he turned to Wang Zhong and said, “The reserve force standing by at the rear reports gunfire to the east, but it’s not particularly intense.”
Wang Zhong said, “It’s the enemy paratroopers. Tell them to stay alert. And remember to call Kiriyenko at noon and ask about the progress in clearing out the paratroopers.”
No sooner had he finished speaking than the phone rang again.
Pavlov picked up the receiver: “Division headquarters. Okay, got it.”
After putting down the receiver, the chief of staff looked up at Wang Zhong and announced, “Here they come, the sounds of engines.”
Wang Zhong ordered, “Follow the original plan. Artillery battalion, begin firing.”
Pavlov picked up the receiver he had just put down again.
Suddenly, Nelly whispered, “The chief of staff looks like a bear eating fish.”
Wang Zhong, who had wanted to peek through the observation window, turned his head upon hearing Nelly’s comment and burst into laughter, seeing that Pavlov indeed resembled her description, with the receiver as the fish, being gnawed at by Pavlov single-handedly.
Unaware of Nelly’s murmur, the chief of staff gave a loud command: “Artillery battalion, execute fire mission, commence interdiction fire!”
Instantly, Wang Zhong heard the sound of artillery shells flying overhead, but unlike last time, he could also hear their explosions on impact.
The sound rolled in like thunder from the horizon.
Pavlov was about to leave the phone and join Wang Zhong at the observation post when the phone rang again.
After answering, Pavlov said, “The lookout has spotted dust clouds. Enemy tanks are approaching.”
Wang Zhong hurried to the observation window to take a look outside.
However, given the low position of the division headquarters’ bunker, he couldn’t see anything, neither the dust clouds nor the explosions from the interdiction fire.
Even when Wang Zhong changed angles, he saw nothing.
He withdrew his gaze and then noticed Nelly trying to peek outside eagerly, tiptoeing in an effort, but even at her most stretched, her eyes barely reached the lower edge of the observation window.
Wang Zhong pulled over an ammunition box and lifted Nelly up onto it.
Vasily laughed, “This reminds me of a British novel I read as a child, where a dwarf warrior couldn’t see outside during a siege because of his short stature…”
Nelly frowned, stepped down from the ammunition box, and picked up the large tray loaded with tea and refreshments, ready to leave.
Wang Zhong said, “Wait a minute, just leave that there. Stay in the division headquarters’ bunker during the battle, it’s unsafe elsewhere.”
Only then did Nelly set down the tray and dashed to a corner to stand, her hands folded in front of her, pressing down her skirt.
Wang Zhong continued to look outside.
Just then, the telephone rang again, and after a few seconds, Pavlov reported, “Brother Peter hears the sound of dive bombers, escorted by fighter planes.”
Wang Zhong asked, “The enemy finally brought escorts. Have our planes taken off yet?”
Pavlov replied, “They’ve just landed to refuel and rearm, now they’re taking off again.”
“Vasily, bring over that Prussian radio! Broaden the reception frequency, let’s listen to the situation in the skies.”
Vasily promptly brought out a seized Prussian radio and while adjusting it, praised, “Prussian stuff is definitely better than ours. Charged in the morning and after four hours, it’s still powered.”
At that moment, sounds came from the radio, in the Prussian language.
Vasily translated, “‘Ready for combat, drop the auxiliary fuel tanks.’
Wang Zhong frowned slightly. In War Thunder, when he flew the early models of the 109, he had never used auxiliary fuel tanks. But then again, it wasn’t the same time and space; the Fritz X had already been in operation two months into Barbarossa, so he shouldn’t sweat the small stuff.
The radio crackled again as someone urgently shouted something in Prussian, and Wang Zhong recognized the word “Achtung.”
Vasily translated faithfully, “‘Enemy fighters spotted at two o’clock, also below us.’
Then, an older Prussian voice came on the radio, sounding more steady.
Vasily conveyed, “‘Dive to engage the enemy, protect the bombers. If the enemy pursues, disengage, do not enter a turning dogfight.’
Wang Zhong added, “Actually, the early 109s can engage in a bit of a dogfight, but the commander’s right, you shouldn’t tangle with Yaks at low altitude, even if it’s just a Yak-1. Just drive the Yaks away to allow the bombers to drop their payload.”
The others exchanged knowing glances in silence.
And then, at last, the radio broadcast something Wang Zhong could understand, “Enemy fighter planes! Semyon, take the second squadron and tie up with the enemy, I’ll go hunting the bombers.”
“Harlamov, you’re after bomber kills again! But no worries, let’s see how many fighters I can take down. That way, I’ll be the ace with the most merit!”
Immediately after, the airwaves became tumultuous.
With two languages intermingling, Vasily couldn’t keep up with the translations.
“Misha! The enemy is behind you!”
“Alois, rate of climb zero!”
“Where did he go? I can’t see him!”
“Turn left, all turn left! Any not turning left are enemy planes!”
Wang Zhong frowned as he approached the observation window and switched his view to watch the aerial dogfight.
Both sides had fighters being shot down, trailing long flames and thick smoke as they plunged toward the ground.
At this moment, Wang Zhong spotted thirty dive bombers approaching from the north side of his field of vision—it looked like they had circled around to evade interception by the Air Force.
The bombers began their dive!
Then, six Divine Arrows shot up from the ground.
The next moment, the dive bombers scattered like birds and beasts.
But their altitude was too high, and one of the bombers was hit before it could escape the reach of the “praying hands.”
The bombs dropped from too high an altitude, with half of them missing the water’s surface, erupting in rows of ten-meter-high water columns.
A second wave of Divine Arrows was launched, but this time most missed their targets. Only one relentlessly pursued a Stuka that had entered low flight to escape.
Then, the Yak-1s, which hadn’t joined the fray in the air, appeared.
The Stuka pilots formed a dense diamond formation, creating a net of fire with their rear-mounted machine guns.
Wang Zhong saw a Yak swoop below an enemy plane, then pull up, preparing to attack from below—thus evading the enemy’s rear machine guns’ firing arc.
Then it disappeared from view.
Wang Zhong cursed, “Suka,” and grabbed Vasily’s radio microphone, “Harlamov, respond!”
Harlamov: “Who’s calling me?”
Then Wang Zhong switched views, only to realize he couldn’t see through Harlamov’s eyes.
Because the Air Force was not under his command.
Still no result was seen!
Wang Zhong put down the microphone, not wanting to disturb others in combat.
At that moment, a staff officer who had been on guard at the western bank shouted, “Tanks!”
Because the enemy planes were overhead, the artillery had ceased firing. With the anti-infiltration fire net gone, the enemy tank troops finally entered the division headquarters’ view.
Wang Zhong hurried to the observation window.
The enemy’s tanks were in a standard attack formation, but there were some “gaps” in the formation, obviously caused by the recent anti-infiltration fire net.
Some of the gaps were quite large, suggesting that a platoon of tanks had been lost.
It was unclear whether they had been destroyed or if the tanks had been damaged and temporarily abandoned.
Nonetheless, the enemy’s numbers still looked incredibly vast.
Wang Zhong estimated that there were two hundred tanks arrayed in front of the whole division.
Behind the tanks, the number of accompanying infantry was alarmingly high, as if all of today’s shelling had done no damage to the enemy.
Of course, the shelling would have caused casualties; the only possibility was that the enemy was too numerous for the losses to matter.
Wang Zhong: “Tell the mortars to fire according to the pre-arranged firepower plan!”
As a defender, all of Wang Zhong’s artillery units had prepared multiple fire plans. As long as they fired according to plan, they could ensure the shells landed roughly on the enemy’s lines, blocking their advance.
Now, with enemy planes in the sky, the heavy artillery dared not reveal their positions, leaving mortar fire as the best option for blockade.
After Pavlov issued the command, the first volley of shells fell, plumes of small mushroom clouds blossoming among the enemy’s lines.
According to the firepower plan, each gun’s responsible sections were clearly defined, evenly distributing the shells across the entire enemy line, immediately causing the skirmishers to go prone—not because so many were killed in an instant but because the instinctive reaction to nearby shell landings was to duck.
Even the experienced Prussian veterans did the same.
After all, no one wanted to gamble against shrapnel seeking them out.
Just then, the new staff officer, also observing the western bank, commented, “Why aren’t the enemies deploying smoke?”
Wang Zhong: “Based on our previous engagements with the enemy, Prosen commanders don’t deploy smoke when they believe they have a superior direct-fire capability.”
Vasily added, “Especially since the enemy knows the general likes to use Divine Arrows for air defense, they’re even less likely to deploy it.”
The new staff officer acknowledged this with an “Oh.”
Wang Zhong was about to continue when he noticed Nelly had climbed back onto the ammunition box to look out.
Do girls also get curious about the battlefield?
Vasily: “Enemy tanks have passed the 1500-meter mark!”
No sooner had he spoken than the enemy stopped and began their first round of firing.
Explosions thundered overhead.
Pavlov looked up at the sky, “They’re targeting the windows…”
Wang Zhong: “Just like in Peniye, first they target the windows, probably to suppress the Divine Arrows.”
Pavlov: “All our Divine Arrows are in the back. Isn’t that just a waste of firepower?”
Wang Zhong: “If I were the enemy commander, I would still shoot, just in case, right?”
At that point, the enemy tanks proceeded with their second volley of fire.
Phones in the bunker started ringing.
Pavlov answered, “Division headquarters. Don’t fire! What’s the rush? Wait until they’re within a thousand meters.”
After he hung up, he said to Wang Zhong, “The rookies in the anti-tank artillery battalion are getting antsy.”
Wang Zhong smiled, “They’ll have their chance to fire today.”