On Earth, the flashy Americans have a tank platoon with 14 vehicles equipped with two 30-ton class recovery trucks.
Moreover, within their Armored Divisions the Americans also have the heaviest recovery vehicles put into service during World War II: the M25 Dragon wagon. With this beast, the US Army can tow broken-down Sherman tanks by road to the rear for major repairs or transport landing crafts overland to the banks of the Rhine River.
On the other hand, the Russians on Earth are a different case: a tank brigade with three tractors, leading to most tanks with mechanical failures being abandoned by the roadside because there were simply not enough tractors to tow them.
Wang Zhong’s model division is intended to change this, making the Ante Army also become “powerfully supported.”
After all, in Wang Zhong’s vision, the equipment used by his precious divisions was produced with terrifyingly long work hours and was definitely not to be discarded lightly.
For example, the 57mm anti-tank guns widely equipped by the Guards Mechanized Infantry are even more troublesome to produce than the 85mm anti-aircraft guns.
In order to deliver the new vehicles with the 100mm guns from the navy, they surely were also precious items with low production rates.
After all, the navy’s 100mm guns were produced only by that one factory next to the Inland Sea. Even if the factory went all out to expand production, it wouldn’t get very far unless new factories were put into producing them.
So Wang Zhong’s troops must be powerfully supported.
Pavlov sighed, “But the fact that we don’t have the capacity to produce tractors is also true. The ordnance department is also in a bind with nothing to cook with.”
Wang Zhong, “Fine, I’ll see if I can get some from the Federation. Heavy recovery vehicles, tractors, even battlefield repair vehicles, I’ll try to get as many as possible.”
“That would be the best. But…”
Wang Zhong, “What’s the matter? Speak up if there’s a difficulty.”
“There aren’t enough technicians. Simple mechanical malfunctions can be taught and fixed, but for thorough tank maintenance, at least a grade ten education is needed. However, those who graduated from grade ten are already the backbone of the army, and they can’t all be pulled away to fix vehicles.”
Wang Zhong was astonished, and after holding his breath for a few seconds, said, “I’ll go ask the navy. Didn’t I ask for a thousand technicians before?”
“They’ve all been transferred to the Guards Mechanized Infantry. Yegorov, their division commander now, treasures these technicians like jewels. I asked him to divide half of them to the model division, but he wouldn’t budge.”
Wang Zhong, “You’re the city defense staff officer! Are you bigger or is he?”
Pavlov, “We’re both major generals.”
Wang Zhong was astonished, “Fine, I’ll go argue with this stubborn guy.”
Pavlov, “Also, don’t forget to wheedle some technicians from the navy, the more the better!”
Wang Zhong, “Okay, okay! I’ll go ask.”
He hung up the phone with a heavy sigh.
Lady Petrovna asked, “Running into difficulty?”
Wang Zhong, “Yes, there’s a shortage of technical workers everywhere. Factories lack technical labor, and so do the frontlines. Factories have started using women and children to produce tanks. They lack specialized training and are hurried into the job; the welding is problematic in many places.”
Just then, the office door opened and Vasily came in with a telegram, “The second wave of attack launched by the Western Front Army the day before yesterday has been ineffective until today. Although they have captured some positions, the Prussian Army still controls several major cities.”
After speaking, Vasily went to the map in the director’s office, picked up a pencil and drafting tools, and quickly made some marks on the map.
Wang Zhong was astonished, “The frontlines are becoming a crisscross of conflicts.”
Actually, this is the norm in modern warfare, with frontlines torn like by a dog, a chaotic “you have me and I have you.”
Especially near cities, in the urban-rural junctions, the situation is even more complicated.
Vasily, looking at the updated map, said, “Even I can now see that the Western Front Army’s offensive has stalled.”
Wang Zhong, “How many casualties?”
Vasily picked up the telegram and glanced at it, “In the two days since the second round of the offensive began, a total of seventy thousand wounded soldiers have been treated.”
Wang Zhong cursed.
“The Federation’s troops managed to treat seventy thousand wounded soldiers, so probably only ten to twenty thousand died. After all, they have good support, and many of the injured will be rescued.”
“But it’s different for Ante.”
Vasily continued to report, “The telegram also says that some infantry battalions have been reduced to less than two hundred men. To continue the attack, they need to deploy reserves.”
Wang Zhong, looking at the map, shook his head, “Certainly they will deploy some reserves, but not too much. This defeat has been quite ugly. They are being allowed to fight one last time, just so they will give up on that notion.”
With a hint of schadenfreude, Vasily added, “After all, those responsible for the failure are bound to lose their heads.”
Wang Zhong nodded, “Of course. But he should be thankful that he is merely incompetent, not a traitor, so just losing his head will suffice.”
Then the telephone on the table rang again.
Wang Zhong picked it up, “This is Rokossovsky. What? A visit? At a time like this?”
Vasily looked over curiously but did not immediately ask. Read the latest on мѵʟ
After responding a couple of times, Wang Zhong hung up and turned to Vasily, “It seems there is a diplomatic delegation that wants to come visit us.”
“Diplomatic?” asked Vasily.
Wang Zhong replied, “Don’t know. Maybe our friends from the Federation want to take a look at the aid recipients. Go and call Vice Chancellor Valery, he’s good at arranging visits like these.”
Vasily placed the telegram on the table and turned to leave.
Madam Petrovna picked up the telegram and slid it into a special folder.
The telephone on the table rang once more, and Wang Zhong answered, “This is Rokossovsky.”
Belinsky’s voice came from the other end, “A diplomatic delegation is currently on their way to the Suvorov Military Academy. The main members are representatives of the Melania refugee government, including their Prime Minister and the commander of their armed forces.”
Wang Zhong immediately spun the globe beside him and found Melania—a country that had been annexed by Prosen, located fairly close to Ante.
Belinsky added, “We might establish diplomatic relations with Melania, and they might send some volunteer forces to support us.”
“So, all I have to do is to receive them well?” asked Wang Zhong.
“Yes, you have to make them believe that we can liberate Melania.”
“Leave it to me,” assured Wang Zhong.
“Oh, by the way, have you seen the latest front page headline of the Ye Fort Daily?”
“No, I haven’t. I’ve been too busy running around to check.”
Just then, Vasily burst in with a newspaper, “General! General, take a look! This photo!”
Vasily showed Wang Zhong the front page headline, where a large photo featured him—General Rokossovsky—standing amid bloodied wounded soldiers, covered in blood himself, but with a determined gaze, evidently boosting the morale of his troops.
Beside the photo was a line of text: The stars of victory together with the wounded.
Holding the receiver in one hand, Wang Zhong took the newspaper with the other.
Belinsky spoke through the receiver, “I’ve already contacted the most famous painter to begin creating an oil painting.”
Looking at the photo, Wang Zhong discovered for the first time that he was being looked upon with such hopeful eyes by everyone.
He couldn’t let them down now.