Chapter 87
After the Inquisitor finished repeating, Wang Zhong nodded in satisfaction and let him go.
Pavlov: "Every time an Inquisitor comes in, I get startled. We really need a proper communications officer."
"I actually think the Inquisitors are pretty nice," Wang Zhong shrugged.
"If I were as close to the Crown Prince as you are, to the point where he'd send over heavy equipment like crazy, I'd think they're nice too," Pavlov seemed to awaken his comedic side, delivering a quip at about one-tenth the level of a master comedian.
As soon as he finished speaking, another Inquisitor walked in!
Pavlov instinctively raised his hands: "I didn't say anything!"
The Inquisitor gave him a sharp look, then turned to Wang Zhong and said: "The Front intercepted enemy communications. The commander of the enemy's 15th Armored Division, Lord Randolph, has been killed. They're asking if we know what happened."
Wang Zhong: "I did it. I personally drove-commanded Vehicle 422 to within 850 meters of the enemy headquarters and attacked with high-explosive shells and machine gun fire. The entire tank crew can testify. Reply to headquarters with that."
The Inquisitor nodded and turned to leave, but suddenly turned back, snapped to attention with a sharp salute to Wang Zhong: "My respects to you, General!"
Wang Zhong nodded.
The Inquisitor turned and left.
Wang Zhong pointed at his retreating figure and said to Pavlov: "See, they're pretty nice, aren't they?"
This time, Pavlov couldn't come up with a retort, only blinking awkwardly before forcibly changing the subject: "Right now, I'm regrouping the troops. I expect to reorganize by tonight. I'm not counting on you to help with that, but can you call Bishop Popov back?"
"I can," Wang Zhong said confidently.
Pavlov continued: "Please inspect the position. With such heavy casualties, we need to boost morale. Otherwise, when the soldiers think of the faces of those who've left us tonight, their organization will crumble."
Wang Zhong: "I think they'll be fine. I have confidence in them."
As he spoke, Wang Zhong first recalled Upper Peniye. When he fell off the tank due to a fever, countless soldiers' hands supported him. Then he thought of just now, how pairs of hands pulled him out of the depths of despair and helped him stand again.
How could such an army, such a people, ever be defeated?
Pavlov, as if guessing what he was thinking, said: "This is your duty, General, sir, even more important than personally commanding a battle! After all, commanding a fight can be delegated to capable officers, but this is something only you can do."
Wang Zhong: "You're right."
Pavlov: "It'd be best if you rode your... uh, Bucephalus, right?"
"Bucephalus, is it doing alright?"
"The stable was blown up by enemy heavy artillery. We all thought the horses were done for, but it ran out on its own and was grazing on the drill ground, completely unscathed. I had the Protectorate Army assigned to us take care of it."
Wang Zhong nodded, no longer disturbing the Chief of Staff who was "wrestling" with documents, and turned to leave the brigade HQ.
As soon as he reached the entrance, he saw Grigori leading Bucephalus and another chestnut horse toward him.
Grigori looked much more worn out than he had in the morning. His clothes were wrinkled and torn in several places, so dirty they could turn water into ink.
But he appeared completely uninjured, with hardly any blood on him.
Wang Zhong: "Where's your ammo pouch?"
"It got shot off during the fight. Don't worry, I got a new one." Grigori pulled out a canvas bag from behind him, with four magazines inserted inside.
Wang Zhong also noticed that the Sergeant Major's submachine gun had been cleaned, gleaming with oil. Clearly, he'd maintained his weapon before coming to find him.
"Did Pavlov order you to bring the horses over?"
"No, I figured that moving around in the village right now, horses are more convenient than jeeps. The village is... full of debris and craters left by enemy artillery. Cars can't get through easily."
Wang Zhong nodded and was about to reply when two BT-7s sped into the battle group's base like lightning.
The lead BT-7 was the platoon leader's vehicle, equipped with a radio antenna.
The platoon leader didn't even wait for the tank to stop before climbing out, reaching Wang Zhong in three strides: "General, sir!"
Wang Zhong: "Only two of you left?"
"A few more broke down. The enemy damaged them with rifle grenades. We've come to receive combat orders, General, sir!"
Wang Zhong: "There shouldn't be any fighting tonight. You can rest well."
At this moment, the BT-7 crew members climbed out of their tanks, gathering around Wang Zhong's observation-model T34, chattering noisily as if inspecting a newly bought farm animal in the village.
One driver asked Belyakov, who was checking the tank's engine: "How thick is this thing's armor?"
Belyakov rattled off the approximate armor stats like he was reading a menu.
"Damn!"
"Compared to this beast, we're basically running naked!"
"Those damned marshals, why didn't they equip us with these? So many lives could've been saved!"
Wang Zhong jolted and said: "Eight T34s were lost due to mechanical failures out on the plain beyond the village. We're planning to head out tonight for repairs. The crews of those tanks likely suffered losses too. After merging the crews, if there are any extra tanks, they'll be handed over to you."
The tankers were stunned: "What?"
"Seriously?"
Wang Zhong: "Seriously."
At this point, the platoon leader asked: "With armor this thick, how could eight still be lost?"
Wang Zhong: "The enemy is very experienced. They likely learned from fighting Carolingian heavy tanks. They target the tracks and turret ring. These T34 units are parade specialists, so when the turret ring got jammed, they abandoned the vehicles."
In truth, Wang Zhong wasn't sure where the Prossenians gained their experience against "hard" tanks, since he didn't even know if Carolingian B1 heavy tanks existed here.
But in Earth's history, the earliest Third Reich armored divisions to encounter T34s quickly figured out how to deal with them: target the tracks and turret ring, then leave them for the infantry to handle.
Early T34s, being practically blind, were done for once they lost mobility and infantry closed in.
On the other hand, KVs, even with broken tracks, could still inflict heavy casualties on infantry, fighting until they ran out of ammo and supplies.
The tank crew of the 23rd Tank Corps exchanged glances, then said in unison: "We'd never do that!"
Then the "parade specialists" got annoyed: "Oh, look who's bragging! Let you drive a T34, and we'll see who's better!"
"Hey, getting cocky now! See the tank marks on my vehicle? Those are my combat achievements! Even driving a BT-7, I've racked up this many kills! Though, to be fair, they're all from today."
Today, Wang Zhong led the remnants of the 23rd Tank Corps to achieve some truly impressive combat results.
Wang Zhong coughed once, interrupting the arguing tank crew.
Once everyone's attention was on him, he said: "You all performed exceptionally well today! Before now, the Prossenians looked down on our armored forces. Starting today, they'll have to take us seriously!
"Tomorrow, tougher battles await us. The enemy's entire armored cluster has crossed Bogdanovka, and more and more tanks will appear before us.
"Don't worry about not getting your share of combat achievements. We'll be here, and we'll show the enemy what we're made of!"
The tank crew's expressions hardened with resolve. After Wang Zhong finished, they shouted in unison: "Ura!"
----
Vasily, holding his Tokarev, poked at a Prossenian soldier on the ground with the barrel.
This was one he'd personally killed during the enemy's retreat just now. It was also the only enemy he could confirm he'd taken down so far.
The earlier battle had been too intense. Vasily, stationed at the window, had been too busy firing desperately to check if his bullets hit anyone.
He used the gun to flip off the enemy's helmet, revealing a similarly young, lifeless face.
At that moment, someone shouted from behind: "Don't move, hands up!"
Vasily turned around and saw it was Filippov.
Filippov was also startled, lowering his gun as he asked: "Why are you carrying a Prossenian backpack?"
Vasily: "This is an enemy radio that the General personally captured! The enemy got right up to the forward command just now, so I had to join the fight. That's why I'm carrying this thing.
"If you'd fired and damaged it, the General would've punished you by making you carry manure!"
Filippov laughed: "Damn, as if we've never done that before."
Saying that, he leaned against the wall, slowly sitting down and pulling out a cigarette.
"You smoke now?" Vasily leaned over, teasing.
Filippov: "I suddenly realized that not smoking for the sake of health doesn't seem to matter much. I mean, look, before we even worry about health, we might already be dead."
Vasily nodded and said: "Give me one too, let me try."
Moments later, both of them, having never smoked before, started coughing violently.
After stomping out the cigarette butts, the two old friends sat side by side against the wall.
"Nikolai's dead," Filippov said, "and so is Barfinovich."
Vasily was silent for a few seconds before saying: "Dimitri's alive, bouncing around as usual."
"Isn't that a good thing?"
"Yeah, I was gonna mention a few others who died, but I've been at the forward command. Yegorov and the others are veteran slicksters, too cunning to die. I saw him throw back at least three Prossenian grenades! Three!"
Filippov laughed: "That impressive? I only blew up three enemy tanks with Nikolai. It was unreal how easy it was. Nikolai threw incendiary bottles while I stood guard with a scavenged submachine gun. As soon as Prossenians climbed out of their tanks, I'd open fire.
"Later, when Nikolai was throwing an incendiary bottle, he got shot. The bullet hit his arm, and the bottle dropped, bursting into flames at his feet.
"He was rolling on the ground, begging me: Let me go! Please, Filippov!"
Vasily: "Did you let him go?"
"I didn't hear him. The enemy came at us, and I emptied two magazines to drive them back. By the time I looked again, Nikolai had ended it himself."
Vasily: "If you didn't hear him, how do you know what he said?"
Filippov laughed: "Damn it, Vasily, you really are a bastard. Damn it."
Vasily: "Maybe you're right. You know, I've met Nikolai's mom. She works at the farm tool station and is a part-time preacher for the local church women's group. When we visit her someday, you can't tell this story.
"You've gotta say Nikolai fought seven or eight Prossenian devils, killed one, and then got taken out by a cowardly sneak attack."
Filippov was silent for a few seconds before nodding: "You're right! Nikolai took out a whole platoon of devils with his submachine gun! Then he died heroically while reloading!"
"Yeah, exactly! He was a good man! That's the story!" Vasily repeated.
Finally managed to get today's regular update out. Additional content is in progress.
(End of Chapter)