On the morning of July 14, after the initial artillery preparation, an eerie silence fell on the battlefield.
Wang Zhong’s forces were insufficient, and the area under the army group was actually spread throughout the fields with infantry squads connected by radio.
From Wang Zhong’s bird’s-eye view, he was reminded of the feeling of playing “Red Dragon” in ranked battles—he had reached the rank of a senior officer in Red Dragon and had some insights.
The battlefield in Red Dragon was just like that, with infantry squads or even smaller reconnaissance teams equipped with observation equipment scattered over a battlefield tens of kilometers wide, each platoon often controlling one to two kilometers of open ground.
If the enemy launched an attack, rockets from the rear would instantly cover the battlefield, and the Air Force would swoop in.
This was the standard setup of the Cold War era, after all; the Cold War was about firepower, and it was pointless to cram too many people into the front lines since everything would be wiped out with a barrage.
But under the current circumstances, Wang Zhong, looking at his army group’s sparse front line, felt very uneasy.
The army group’s firepower should be able to destroy any enemy rash enough to attack, but the problem was whether the army group’s firepower could strike the enemy accurately and in a timely manner.
Wang Zhong’s artillery didn’t have fire-control computers, and Artillery had just arrived without enough time to calculate the firing data in advance. Even if the infantry could accurately report the enemy’s coordinates, the artillery units would still need to calculate for a while, and they might not hit the target accurately without adjustment.
In these ten minutes or so, the infantry at the front might get overwhelmed by the enemy.
Things would be much better by tomorrow, as the artillery battalions would have pre-calculated some general firing data, waiting for reports from the front to make adjustments.
All in all, Wang Zhong was nervous, but the good news was that in addition to his fighter battalion, he also had the experienced Guard First Tank Battalion—his old unit and the tank battalion with the highest kill count among the Ante People, where ninety percent were veterans (some of the veterans had been promoted to other units).
In a critical situation, the Guard First Tank Battalion could be thrown into the fray to counter-attack.
Wang Zhong prayed that such a dire situation would not arise. The enemy had the long-barreled Mark IV and probably still had two-thirds of a new heavy tank company; it was best to leave these high-threat units to the Tempest. His old unit was still operating T34Ws and didn’t even have Shermans.
However, if the enemy discovered the position of the Tempest and launched an armored encirclement, then the Guard First Tank Battalion would have to be deployed to cover their retreat.
Wang Zhong paced back and forth in his command post in Tetlinka, waiting for the enemy to make a move.
————
East of Yeisk, position of the Guard First Mechanized Infantry Tank Destroyer Battalion.
The battalion commander of the tank destroyers popped out of the commander’s tower above the Tempest’s combat room, observing the distant Yeisk while muttering, “No sign of the enemy. If we don’t attack, won’t they come out to check?”
The gunner of the commander’s vehicle said, “Then let’s hit them with a shell, I saw movement on their defensive line through the scope.”
“Are you insane? That’s three kilometers away, our scale only goes up to 2200 meters!”
The gunner, unconcerned, said, “We can make a rough estimate and then adjust gradually!”
“No, it would expose our position,” the commander rebuked.
The Tempest was well-suited for ambushes in these plains; the grass was just high enough to cover the tracks, and although the combat room was taller than the grass, a “grass hat” camouflage would make it nearly impossible to see from a distance.
Last year, the Prussian Infantry Division often used assault guns’ low silhouette for ambushing Ante tank units. Now the tables have turned, and it’s Ante’s turn to ambush the Prussians.
It’s a pity that the enemy is holed up in Yeisk and not coming out; only occasionally can one see a Prussian soldier poking their head out of a window through binoculars, quickly disappearing again.
Must be some Prussian recruit curious about the front lines.
————
The recruit Andreas was pinned to the ground by Sergeant Kosolek. Continue your adventure at empire
The sergeant scolded, “Have you lost your mind? All the windows are dangerous! My last assistant gunner died just like that, poking his head out foolishly.
“That was during the Carolingian campaign; we had surrounded the United Kingdom’s Expeditionary Force and thousands of Carolingians in a small seaside town.
“The assistant gunner’s name was Hans, a naive lad from Hessen. He just poked his head out, wanting to see the hordes of enemies on the beach, and then it was over for him!”
After speaking, Sergeant Kosolek looked up at the window; nobody was shooting in their direction.
So he let the recruit go and sat down against the wall, his left hand resting on the tripod of the machine gun.
The machine gun was set up inside a wall opening, a niche purposely carved out and camouflaged with ivy; the Ante People would hardly guess there was a hidden machine gun post here.
The machine gun, along with its tripod, was all in the shadow inside the room; even if it started firing, unless the Ante People paid close attention, they might not notice the gun’s position—and no one could concentrate when under machine gun fire, as everyone would be busy trying to get lower.
And those not swept by machine gun fire seeking to pinpoint its location—sorry, the wall would be in the way.
No wonder Sergeant Kosolek boasted that this machine gun position was the culmination of all his combat experience since the Melania campaign.
New recruit Andreas rolled over, sat up, and glanced at the sergeant: “The Ante People are not excellent soldiers, that’s what the quartermaster at the training camp said.”
Kosolek: “They really aren’t. Last year, when I was intercepting their breakout around Argesukov, I fought for an entire day, fired twenty thousand rounds, and ruined five gun barrels. In front of my machine gun position, the Ante left behind at least a thousand corpses.
“They didn’t even think of using mortars or anything to knock out my machine gun emplacement. I was ready to die there. The reserve machine gun crew was at the second position, waiting for me to run out of ammo so they could take over.
“In the end, they didn’t get the chance to open fire. The rest of the machine gunners were all busy bringing me ammunition and gun barrels. The Ante People just kept dying, as if going to meet the Grim Reaper was merely a field trip.”
Kosolek shook his head: “I heard it was because their Crown Prince personally led the charge and then fell for his country. It’s understandable. Their courage is admirable, but truth be told, they really aren’t excellent soldiers—no, not even qualified soldiers. A qualified soldier would have taken me out with a mortar or a grenade launcher, not awarded me an Iron Cross Second Class.”
Kosolek pointed to a small part of the Iron Cross Second Class showing at his collar.
Andreas asked curiously, “Then why don’t you let me stand by the window?”
“Because you don’t need to be a qualified soldier to hit a fool standing foolishly in front of the window. Acting foolishly on a battlefield means death.”
Sergeant Kosolek paused, glanced at the new recruit, and changed the subject: “Where are you from?”
“East Steiermark.”
“East Steiermark is a ducal territory, and it’s so big! Where in Steiermark?”
Andreas: “Tilia, to the west of the ducal capital, a small city.”
Sergeant Kosolek asked again: “How many months did you train?”
“Six months. Before that, I first joined the Imperial Labor Camp and worked for four months on the West Wall construction in Carolingian. After the work was done, I took a month’s leave, and then the conscription letter arrived, so I joined the replacement camp near my hometown.”
The West Wall, the coastal fortification built by Prosen in Carolingian, included a series of support points and fortresses, as well as large minefields and anti-tank stakes.
Sergeant Kosolek clicked his tongue: “Carolingian is a great place, with passionate and beautiful girls, delicious food, and with the exception of some hard bread, it lacks nothing. Too bad they work too inefficiently.
“Did you not sleep with a Carolingian woman?”
Andreas shook his head: “No. Working on the West Wall was exhausting, and during rest, I mostly slept. I even saw Marshal von Strachwitz, the supreme commander of the Western Front. He was an old man, just like my dad, no, possibly older—”
Sergeant Kosolek: “What did the marshal say?”
“The marshal spoke to us, saying the enemy was on the opposite shore, and because of Duke Meyer’s negligence, the enemy had gathered an army of millions, ready to land at any moment. In short, he told us the West Wall was very important.”
Sergeant Kosolek: “Then what?”
“Then? We just worked on the West Wall, occasionally bombed and photographed by the United Kingdom’s planes—”
“No no, I mean you, after you left the labor camp.”
“Then I joined the replacement camp. The first month was interior and squad training, they said this would turn us into real soldiers—but honestly, these things, I had already learned them when I was a kid at the Imperial Scout Camp. It was superfluous.” Andreas shrugged. “But starting the second month, the training that wasn’t covered in scout camp began.”
Andreas went on and on about what he saw and learned in the training camp, it was clear he had been looking for someone to share these stories with for a while.
Finally, Andreas came to the part where they boarded the train, bidding farewell to their families on the platform.
Sergeant Kosolek suddenly cut him off: “Was there a girl who bid you farewell?”
“Yes, my sister. She thought I looked extremely handsome in my uniform.”
“You’ve never been in a relationship, have you?” asked the sergeant.
Andreas looked uncomfortable: “Is that something important? Back home, we never date. The adults from both families decide together, and then we’re getting married, and after that, we can share each other’s oxen and seeds, and even horses and mules. Dating is something that happens in books, isn’t it? Maybe I would have had a romance if I’d gone to university in the Steiermark capital, but I haven’t.”
Sergeant Kosolek shook his head: “Listen to me, take the chance to date someone, or at least sleep with a prostitute once. War is a messed-up thing.”
Andreas stared at the sergeant: “The Ante People aren’t as bad as the propaganda says, right? When we came in as replacements, it was the third marching camp. Initially, I thought it was because our batch of replacements was divided into first, second, and third camps, but later I found out that the other camps were also called third or fourth.
“That’s based on the order of reinforcement batches, right? Before us, there had already been first and second marching camps reinforcing the Sedd Division!”
Sergeant Kosolek pulled out a cigarette, tapped it against the wall to pack the tobacco, and replied: “The first marching camp was okay, all were soldiers returning after recovering from wounds. The second marching camp had some technical troops. The third camp is just as you’ve seen.
“The Sedd Division has been in combat up until now and has only been reduced by three battalions, much better off than the Ante People. But… like I said, war is a messed-up ordeal, and even the most elite soldiers have to die when their time comes.”
The sergeant offered the cigarette he had prepared to the new recruit but was refused.
Sergeant: “It seems this morning’s shelling hasn’t yet made you think about having a smoke or a drink. But trust me, you’ll need them in the future.”
With that, he stuffed the cigarette into the new recruit’s pocket.