On the west bank of the Duva River, Prussian Army frontline trenches.
Captain Hans looked at the thing the engineers were carrying over and asked, “So, you want to listen to music in this kind of environment?”
Someone from Hans’s subordinates shouted, “There isn’t a tailcoat for you to change into here!”
“Nor are there any pretty girls!” another sergeant shouted.
Everyone burst into laughter.
“We found this in a nice house nearby, that house was turned into a dangerous building by the Ante People’s own artillery fire, so we rescued the phonograph. There’s also a piano that our colonel plans to take for his father-in-law,” the Captain of the engineers, who was in charge of moving the phonograph, said.
Captain Hans: “Your colonel’s father-in-law?”
“A general, an old Junker,” said the captain as he pointed to the newly dug bomb shelter entrance, “Just put it at the entrance of this hole.”
The soldiers moving the phonograph said, “There’s no electricity though.”
“This machine can be cranked by hand! Idiot! Hurry up and connect the speaker, then grab that handle and start winding.”
The private fitted the speaker and began to crank by hand.
The captain then picked a record from a box held by another of his men: “Look at this, damn, can’t understand what’s written on it. Let’s have a listen.”
After saying this, the captain placed the record on the spinning turntable, then picked up the sound box and placed the needle on the record.
At first, only a soft static noise came from the speaker, then the music began to play.
Captain Hans smoked and listened to the music, even starting to tap his foot to the beat: “Not bad at all.”
Someone shouted, “That woman’s got a real nice voice, must be great when she calls out!”
“Bastard! Don’t defile art!” Hans scolded, “Thinking about f***ing all day long! Can’t you properly assimilate the… the… what’s the word? Forge?
Smoke-cure?”
“Cultivation,” said the Captain of the engineers.
“Oh right, right, engineers sure know a lot!”
“I studied architecture in Weinahr, now I spend all day researching how to blow up buildings. Being transferred here to dig is like returning to my old trade,” the engineer captain said.
Hans laughed, “Don’t worry, you’ll have your moment to shine. His Majesty the Emperor said that once we conquer Ante, we’ll drive them all out, and each of us will have a thousand acres of land!”
“A thousand acres!” exclaimed the soldier who had just been thinking about f***ing, “That’s going to be deadly tiring to farm!”
“Right, so a fine Prussian man will need to marry four wives then, and have them give birth every day!” Captain Hans said, puffing out a ring of smoke proudly and watching it disperse into the night.
Beside him, the phonograph emitted a song that was unintelligible.
“The song isn’t lively enough, turn it up faster!” the engineer captain said.
The soldier operating the crank immediately quickened his pace.
What was originally a sentimental tune instantly became something full of passion.
————
Grigori was originally crawling on the ground, but when he heard what the song was singing, he stopped abruptly, his brows furrowed.
Seeing this, everyone else also stopped. The Lieutenant commanding the company asked Grigori softly, “Did they capture a singing girl?”
Grigori shook his head, “No, it feels like a phonograph. Listen, it’s speeding up and slowing down, obviously someone is cranking it by hand.”
At that moment, laughter from the enemy came through the song, not knowing what they were laughing at.
Then the singing of “Katyusha” suddenly sped up.
Hearing the familiar melody turn into a tuneless thing, Grigori stood up and strode forward with great strides.
The company commander following him was shocked, “Are you mad? The enemy sentries will open fire if they spot us!”
However, there was no firing, and the enemy didn’t even realize what Grigori meant.
Then the men from the Naval Infantry stood up, quickly advancing in a skirmish line.
Seeing this, many from the Army also stood up, their skirmish line was not as neat as that of the Naval Infantry, but they advanced rapidly as if competing in a race walk with the sailors.
The captain saw the situation and also stood up, cursing as he did so, “Damn it, forget about it!”
Seeing the captain stand up, the rest of the company got to their feet as well.
In the pitch-black night, the skirmish line rolled forward like a tidal wave, heading towards the enemy trench.
Grigori, walking at the front, heard another burst of laughter and quickened his pace.
At that moment, the captain ran up to him, “What will we do if they fire at us?”
Grigori: “The general said as long as we keep thirty meters from the enemy, we won’t get hit. If artillery falls, we can still get down in time. If we are already within thirty meters when the shelling starts, we can charge forward and take cover in the trenches.”
The captain was astonished, “Is this tactic even sound?”
Grigori didn’t answer, but broke into a run instead.
The nearby Naval Infantrymen immediately caught on and started running as well.
Soon, the entire line was running, with nobody shouting. Only footsteps and the sound of breathing filled the night air.
And just like that, this bunch of men charged to the front of the trench, the whole time unnoticed by the Prosen sentries.
Perhaps the Prosen soldiers had all their attention captured by the images depicted in the Imperial propaganda.
Just then, Grigori heard the sound of an electric buzzer coming from the direction of the trench.
————
Hans was in the midst of laughing with his men when suddenly the electric buzzer sounded, so he turned his head and shouted, “Time’s up, fire the flares! Let’s see if any Ante rats are sneaking around!”
The sentry watching their side immediately replied, “Got it.”
Then he picked up the flare gun, and as he loaded the illumination round, he glanced toward the gramophone.
Just at that moment, a sentry from farther away shouted, “Who’s there? Ah lao!”
In Prosen language, one can shout “Ah lao” when spotting something unusual, or more formally, cry “Ah ku tong.”
The sentry’s shout didn’t alert the Prosen soldiers, who were gathered together laughing and chatting.
However, in the next moment, gunfire erupted.
The Prosen area instantly fell silent, even the soldier who was cranking the gramophone stopped.
Captain Hans reacted, yelling, “Ah ku tong! To your positions! Machine guns, fire! Light the flare!”
As he shouted, the sentry completed loading the flare and stretched the flare gun out of the trench, shooting it into the sky.
The red flare soared, unveiling a corner of the night.
The Ante soldiers in black revealed their snarling faces.
Hans shouted, “Fire at will!”
The machine guns started firing.
But the soldiers in black seemed not to fear the machine guns at all; as the bullets flew, they showed no intention of ducking and instead started running, quickly moving out of the flare’s illumination.
Captain Hans heard the machine gunner wailing, “They’re not afraid of the machine guns!”
The captain replied, “Don’t panic! Fire! If they’re human, they’ll fear the machine guns!”
Suddenly, the flare seemed to be hit; its parachute damaged by bullets, and so the still-burning body of the illumination flare rapidly fell to the ground.
Now the entire battlefield plunged into darkness.
The captain ordered, “Another flare! And bring up the mortars! Fire to halt their advance!”
As soon as he spoke, the flash from the machine gun fire illuminated an angry face, along with a sailor’s jumper visible within the V-shaped collar of the black uniform, and the streamers hanging behind the cap.
The machine gunner, terrified, swung the gun toward the demon, but his adversary charged at him with a stride and lunged with a bayonet.
The machine gun fell silent.
More soldiers in black jumped into the trench.
————
Grigori entered the trench from the opposite side. Just as the flare was fired, the Imperial Guard’s division infantry he led had not been hit by the light.
Since the machine gun fire was mostly concentrated on the Naval Infantry, Grigori sprinted madly, closing to a distance where he could throw grenades.
He didn’t charge directly into close combat like the sailors, but instead lay prone and lobbed grenades first.
After the explosion, a piercing shriek, like that of a pig being slaughtered, rose from the trench.
Grigori, clutching his submachine gun, leapt to the edge of the trench and sprayed bullets inside.
At that moment, other soldiers’ grenades fell into the trench.
Seeing this, Grigori hastily slid to the side and lay at the trench’s edge.
The next moment, a barrage of explosions erupted within the trench.
Then the Imperial Guard infantry, with bayonets fixed to their Tokarevs, moved in.
Grigori exclaimed, “You bastards nearly blew me up!”
“But we didn’t, did we?”
Grigori barked, “No chitchat! Clear the trench, recognize the cloaks! Also, the sailors with streamer caps and large lapels! Those without these are the enemy! Hurry!”
No sooner had he finished speaking than another series of explosions burst from a trench less than ten meters from him.
Grigori shouted, “It’s our own men in the trenches now! Stop throwing the grenades! Risk of friendly fire! Engage in close combat! Watch for the cloaks and large lapels!”
Suddenly, Grigori saw someone standing up from the trench nearby, firing with a Prosen MP40.
He immediately retaliated with his own MP40, unleashing a burst that sent the enemy ducking back into the trench, then he lay on the trench edge to reload.
In the dark, someone shouted in Prosen language.
Grigori, after reloading, got up, leaped into the trench, and charged toward the voice, only to come upon a golden trumpet.
Beside the trumpet, a Prosen, likely an officer, was yelling.
It was too dark to see clearly.
Grigori fired a long burst, probably hitting the man with about five bullets, who then clutched his chest and fell.
With the Prosen officer down, it revealed another Prosen soldier behind him grasping the handle of the gramophone.
Grigori locked eyes with the Prosen.
The next instant he pulled the trigger, feeling not a shred of pity for the enemy engaged in an activity so out of place on the battlefield.
After downing the private, Grigori rushed forward, grabbed the record of “Katyusha” that had been on the player, tucked it into the pocket behind his magazine pouch, and then with a single swing destroyed the cumbersome gramophone with the butt of his gun.
By then the Ante forces had seized control of the trench, and Grigori shouted, “Find the maps! Everyone look for maps! The general needs a map to arrange artillery fire!”
At that moment, an infantry lieutenant approached, “Why hasn’t the artillery fire come? It’s past the agreed time!”
Grigori replied, “The enemy fired a flare. The general probably knows we’ve broken through, so he didn’t call for the artillery.”
The lieutenant exclaimed in astonishment, “The general is that impressive?”
“Of course! How else could he make the enemy tremble at the mention of his name?” Grigori said with undisguised pride. “Stop standing around! Find the maps! Hurry and find the maps! Grab any documents if you can’t find maps, otherwise our assault would have been for nothing!”
Then a sailor in black approached, “Stop yelling, we’ve captured a wounded captain!”