On November 1st, just as Wang Zhong had arrived at the division headquarters, he saw Pavlov had already gotten there ahead of time, discussing with the night shift Popov in front of the map.
“The enemy’s advance has suddenly accelerated,” Pavlov said, cradling his arm while resting his chin on the other hand, “They actually moved forward 20 kilometers yesterday. If they keep this up, they really might break into Ye Fort before it gets colder.”
Wang Zhong: “What’s going on?”
Pavlov pointed to the telegram on the table: “See for yourself.”
Wang Zhong picked up the telegram and read through it quickly, then said, “Haven’t you seen the enemy advance seventy kilometers in a day before? Why are you making a fuss over twenty kilometers?
“Besides, I’ve checked the ground around here. The land isn’t like that of Kazarlia; it’s naturally harder here, so even if there is mud, it shouldn’t have as serious an effect as the black soil in Kazarlia.”
Wang Zhong had surveyed the area riding Bucephalus. He had planned to go by car, but Grigori suggested riding, because “at this time, horses are more useful than cars, trust me.”
The ground around Suhayaveli is all hard earth, with just a thin layer of mud on top.
Accordingly, when Wang Zhong asked the local elders, they also mentioned that they generally don’t grow wheat around here but various vegetables instead, along with fodder for feeding pigs like alfalfa and the like.
And also potatoes.
This even had an impact on the supplies of the Guaridian Army. While in Kazarlia, the officers and troops had a rich variety of food on their tables, now it was just borscht and potatoes every day.
Potatoes became the staple, steamed and given to the officers and men like bread, with the soldiers having to peel them themselves.
The division’s bakery was now generally baking bread only once every three days.
Wang Zhong had not expected to feel, so directly and so quickly, the benefit of the black soil of Kazarlia.
Recalling the scene of his previous survey, Wang Zhong couldn’t help but touch the lunchbox hanging from his body, carrying the hefty soil of his homeland.
Wang Zhong: “The soil around here is not like the black soil of Kazarlia. It’s just not the same.”
Pavlov: “I see, I didn’t investigate the local soil conditions, so it’s the ground hardening that’s sped up the enemy’s advance?”
He took a pencil and made a note on the map: Ground is harder.
“How about our forces?” Wang Zhong asked.
Pavlov: “Four new Army Groups have been supplied, all spread out along the front line. I think the Western Front Army’s idea is to use these inexperienced troops to delay the enemy, exhaust them, and then intercept them with well-rested units.”
Wang Zhong looked at the map. Kashuk’s forces were positioned south of Suhayaveli, and the defense area had been greatly reduced—it must be because his forces suffered heavy losses.
The rest of Kiriyenko’s Army Group was basically arranged around Suhayaveli, it seems like they were preparing to fight around the Guardian Army.
Wang Zhong: “Did the Army Group not receive reinforcements?”
Pavlov: “You mean a large number of troops from the Guardian Army? Indeed, they have been reinforced. But there aren’t many young men who are experienced and formally trained. I think the first wave of conscription is over.”
Conscription is in stages: the first conscripts are those who had been discharged within the last three years and those in the active reserve. Those young men of the right age who hadn’t undergone military training were not part of the first wave of conscription, so they could only join the army and then undergo military training.
Next would be the conscription of those who had been discharged for over three years, most of whom would need refresher training and could not be sent directly to the front line after conscription.
The conscription of those discharged within three years and the active reserves is already over… and that’s not even counting the 5 million troops expanded earlier.
Wang Zhong looked at the map with a solemn expression. They say numbers are cold, unable to make people feel real, but someone like Wang Zhong, who actually emerged from hell, could feel the weight just by looking at the numbers.
“What a sin,” he murmured softly, “poor expansion, poor command. It really is a sin.”
Pavlov and Popov were also silent, as if they were mourning the millions of soldiers who had been sacrificed.
Coincidentally, at that moment, the song of some troop drifted in from outside: “Kazakhstan, Kazarlia! The corpse cart crosses the riverbank, the riverbank of Mother River!”
Suddenly Pavlov asked, “What’s that song called? I haven’t heard you mention it before?”
Wang Zhong: “‘Knawing Mud.'”
Eating sand refers to eating sandy soil, which tells of events in Aganstan; called “Knawing Mud” for Kazakhstan, it makes sense.
Popov exclaimed, “That name can’t inspire morale! Are you really going to publish it with that name?”
Wang Zhong: “No, when Vasily sent it to the music magazine, he wrote the title as ‘The Last Courage.'”
Popov breathed a sigh of relief.
Just then, Nelly pushed open the door: “Breakfast.”
Pavlov: “Oh, breakfast is here. What are we having? It smells delicious.”
Nelly: “Susie stew.”
“Really? Serve me a bowl.”
Nelly immediately served a bowl to the chief of staff.
The plump chief of staff took a big sip and then shoveled the tenderized, stewed meat from the stew into his mouth with a spoon.
Wang Zhong silently watched as Pavlov feasted, just watching as the blood flowed from his nose.
“Wait a minute!” Pavlov pulled out a handkerchief to cover his nose, “What’s going on here?”
Wang Zhong: “Because the meat used in this soup isn’t sausage or beef, but deer and hedgehog meat.”
Nelly: “And snake meat. I processed everything that Sergeant Grigori caught and put it all in.”
Pavlov’s eyes widened: “Why are you bringing it out for us to eat now?”
Wang Zhong: “Because she had her period yesterday, it’s no use even if I eat it. So I sent the leftover meat to the cooking team.”
Popov clicked his tongue: “You’re done for, do you know how many single mothers you’re going to create? With so many girls in the garrison, the cooking team, the laundry team, and the nurses at the hospital. It’s all over, how could you let these lads eat deer and hedgehogs, it’s over.”
Wang Zhong scratched his head: “My fault?”
“Your fault,” Popov and Pavlov said together.
———-
November 1st, the advance command post of the second armored army group, the former residence of the literary giant Kozov.
“General!” The adjutant led the way, proudly announcing, “This is the former residence of the great literary giant Kozov.”
Von Maqi slowed his pace, admiring the well-preserved displays in the room as he walked: “This is where he wrote that book ‘War and Peace’, isn’t it?”
Adjutant: “Are you going to set up your command post here?”
“No,” Von Maqi refused without even thinking about it, “The enemy has gradually started bombing existing buildings, and this former residence will definitely become a target for bombing. As long as it is within range of the enemy’s fire, we cannot stay in an existing house, we can’t let the enemy succeed.”
Adjutant: “But, because we don’t stay in houses within the range of enemy fire and don’t camp on roadsides, the troops are exhausting a great deal of physical strength. The lads need beds.”
Von Maqi: “Tell them that after they are killed in battle, they can rest forever then, in Valhalla.”
“But,” the adjutant asked doubtfully, “isn’t the war about to end?”
Maqi didn’t answer but walked to the map that was already spread out and looked at the largest place name on it, Ekaterinburg Fortress, pursing his lips, even decreasing his blinking rate.
Just then, a staff officer ran in, saluted, and shouted loudly: “Report! The front line has informed us that we have obtained three new army group numbers from the prisoners!”
Maqi immediately turned to face the staff officer, his eyebrows lifting sharply: “How many?”
“Three!” the staff officer replied loudly.
Maqi said in a deep voice: “I heard you, don’t shout so loud.”
The staff officer was embarrassed.
The adjutant went over to take the telegram, quietly waved his hand, signaling him to leave quickly.
General Maqi personally stepped forward, grabbed the telegram, and began to read: “According to the interrogation of the prisoners, the existence of enemy army groups 111, 112, 113 has been confirmed. According to prisoner testimonies, these three army groups don’t have army-level organization, which suggests heavy losses among senior officers.”
“The largest of the three army groups, 112, has eight infantry divisions in organization, along with the group’s artillery and auxiliary troops, around a hundred thousand men.”
“The smallest, 111, has five divisions and one independent brigade, around sixty thousand men.”
“We estimate that at least two hundred thousand new troops have joined the defensive operations.”
After reading, Maqi put the telegram behind him, took a deep breath, then looked up at the ceiling.
He maintained this posture as though a child watching a spider weave its web on the ceiling.
Finally, Maqi asked: “How many enemies did High Command say we are facing head-on?”
Adjutant: “One million.”
“Now it’s one hundred and twenty million. Ask the front line, what’s the equipment situation of these newly added army groups? If the equipment is poor… there might still be hope.”
The adjutant immediately turned: “I’ll make a call right away… I mean, I’ll radio to ask.”
“No need, it’s not that urgent, just send a telegram.”
…
About an hour later, Maqi was flipping through Kozov’s collection of books when the adjutant came in with a telegram: “The reply’s here, General.”
“Read it,” the General said softly.
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The adjutant lowered his head: “The newly encountered army groups indeed show signs of lacking equipment, but what they mainly lack are light weapons; the numbers of heavy artillery and tanks are relatively sufficient. The troops of these army corps are highly motivated, often launching bayonet charges to compensate for their lack of combat skills.
“Also…”
The adjutant stopped, glanced at the General, then continued: “We’ve also discovered another new army group number, 114, which has eight infantry divisions and one cavalry division, nearly a hundred thousand men.”
Maqi sighed: “The steamroller… has started to move. “
He closed the ancient book, closed his eyes.
A few seconds later he opened his eyes: “No, it’s not time to give up yet, order the troops to advance at full speed! The muddy conditions are easing, we’ll winter in Ekaterinburg Fortress!”
After finishing, he turned to look at the collection: “Pack these books in boxes and take them to the basement! The Ante People will shell this house, the books are innocent!”