Arc of Fire

Chapter 69

Twenty minutes later.

Vasily looked at the small pile of iron objects on the jeep and couldn't help but rub his forehead: "With just this little stuff, it's hard to cause enough trouble for the enemy."

Filippov: "After all, the fake minefield we set up is quite large. If the path the enemy clears doesn't overlap with where we placed this stuff, it's all for nothing."

Vasily glanced around.

Scattered across the open plains near Loktov were numerous civilian houses, mostly barns and cattle sheds, with very few actual residences.

Even if there were residences, the locals had long since fled to the village, leaving hardly any iron objects behind.

Vasily scratched his neck: "What are we gonna do about this...?"

Filippov slapped his thigh: "I've got it! The supply depot sent us canned pickled cucumbers as if they were artillery shells. Those are glass jars, sure, but the lids are iron!"

Vasily looked surprised: "Huh? Wait a minute, usually I'm the one who comes up with ideas like this. How did you think of it this time? Ah~ I get it!"

He gave Filippov a sly smile: "You've been corrupted by hanging around me!"

Filippov: "Do you think it's appropriate for you, the source of that corruption, to say that?"

Vasily laughed: "Never mind that. This idea of yours is brilliant. Let's go! The jeep probably can't carry it all, so we'll drive a truck to haul the can lids!"

Then the two of them dragged along the rather quiet Mikhail, jumped into the vehicle, and sped off.

The scrap iron in the truck bed clanged and rattled nonstop.

As they drove onto the main road heading toward Loktov, they suddenly spotted people in local garrison uniforms planting mines on the road.

Vasily slammed on the brakes, stopping just before the mines, and shouted: "Who told you to plant mines here?"

The garrison engineers replied weakly: "Regiment Commander Alexander Alexandrovich did. Hurry and pass through; the mines haven't been armed yet."

"Bastards!" Vasily stormed out of the vehicle, angrily charging forward, grabbing an engineer by the collar and lifting him up. "Do you have any idea that Brigadier General Rokosov is out there scouting the terrain? Are you trying to assassinate the Brigadier General?"

Only then did the engineer notice the Guards' capes, and upon hearing the name of "that Brigadier General," the anger on his face vanished: "This... the Regiment Commander ordered us to plant the mines! We didn't know the Brigadier General had gone out to scout!"

With that, he turned to his subordinates and shouted: "Hurry and call the Regiment Commander over! Alright, stop digging, cease work!"

Moments later, Alexander Alexandrovich rushed over: "What's going on? Why did you stop?"

Before the engineer could respond, Vasily cut in: "Brigadier General Rokosov is conducting frontline reconnaissance with a squad. He went to Kalinnovka! Are you planting mines here to blow up the Brigadier General?"

The Regiment Commander was shocked: "I had no idea! The Brigadier General went out to scout? No one notified me! The bunkers on both sides of the road didn't report seeing the Brigadier General either!"

Vasily: "In any case, the Brigadier General is out there scouting. Until he returns, you're not allowed to plant mines on the road!"

The Regiment Commander glanced at the already-opened wooden crate of landmines on the road: "Leaving the mines here like this isn't great either. If enemy aircraft strafe us, it'll be bad. We'll have to move them back to the bunkers..."

Vasily: "How about this? Give the mines to us. We're under orders from the Brigadier General to set up a fake minefield. For this kind of minefield to work, we need to plant a few real mines. I think these crates of yours will do just fine!"

"If you plant them on the main road, the enemy tanks will roll over one, realize the road is full of mines, and use explosive cords or something to clear them all at once.

"Give them to us, and we can mix real and fake ones, delaying the enemy for much longer!"

At this point, Filippov chimed in: "Wait a second, our minefield signs are all written in Prossenian. What if the locals can't read them and wander into the minefield?"

Vasily: "That's easy. Just add a line in the Ant language!"

He turned back to the garrison commander: "So, what do you say?"

The Regiment Commander rubbed his chin: "The crate near the bunkers can't be given to you. Once the Brigadier General returns, we still need to seal off the main road near the bunkers.

"You can take the rest."

With that, the Regiment Commander turned to the engineers: "Plant the mines in the open field first. Send someone to guard the roadside. If you see the Brigadier General's vehicle, stop them and inform them we're planting mines on both sides of the road, then escort their convoy through!"

Vasily nodded with satisfaction: "That's the way it should be. Filippov, grab the mines, and let's go! Take the can lids too."

The Regiment Commander looked at them in confusion: "Can lids?"

But the Guards' jeep had already driven off.

--

Kalinnovka village.

At the counter on the first floor of the post office, Dimitri turned the frequency knob to the one scribbled in pencil on the front page of the manual, and sure enough, he heard a call.

Wang Zhong, standing nearby, couldn't help but ask: "What are they saying?"

"Shh!" Dimitri raised a finger to his lips, then cleared his throat, picked up the receiver, and rattled off a couple of sentences.

The other side responded immediately, also in a flurry of unintelligible words.

Prossenian sounded like someone arguing, which reminded him of the so-called "effective German" he'd seen in short videos before crossing over.

After the other side finished, Dimitri replied with a few more sentences, then put down the receiver and said to Wang Zhong: "The enemy says the planes are starting to load bombs and refuel now. They'll depart in an hour and arrive in two hours."

Immediately, a young man cursed: "Damn it! I knew it was fake!"

"Good thing we have the General!"

Wang Zhong ignored his subordinates' flattery and confirmed: "So, one hour to load bombs and two hours to arrive, right?"

"Correct."

Wang Zhong: "That means a one-hour flight time!"

With that, he rushed straight to the map-this was the Protectorate Army's listening station, so naturally, there was a map, as they needed to record the daily routes of enemy aircraft to provide intel for rear interception.

Of course, the Ant Air Force currently lacked the strength to carry out interceptions.

Wang Zhong grabbed a pair of compasses from the nearby drafting tools, adjusted the angle against the scale, then stuck the needle into Kalinnovka and drew an arc to the west with the stylus.

He didn't know the exact performance of the enemy attack aircraft, but thanks to the game War Thunder, he had a vague, rough idea of the speeds of most WWII attack planes.

This arc was Wang Zhong's estimate based on the fastest possible speed. The enemy airfield must be closer to Kalinnovka than this arc.

"Damn it!" he muttered. "The enemy has pushed their field airfield this far forward. Bogdanovka is going to become a playground for enemy bombers. No, it probably already is."

At that moment, Monk Petro came down from the top floor and said directly to the Protectorate Army Lieutenant: "We need to leave. Check the vehicle."

Wang Zhong: "Leaving already?"

"Yes, I overheard the intel you got from the enemy up there. I don't want to stay here and get bombed. Plus, you took out their reconnaissance team, and that team had contact with their rear. I don't want to stick around waiting for the enemy's vanguard."

Before Wang Zhong could speak, the Protectorate Army Lieutenant spoke up first: "We haven't received orders... Shouldn't we request instructions first?"

"By the time we get a response, we'll already be captured by the enemy. Those heretics will execute every capable monk. I don't want to die!" Monk Petro said firmly.

During the few days of rest in Loktov, Wang Zhong had crammed a lot of basic knowledge. Prossenians didn't believe in the Eastern Holy Church, so for them, this invasion also carried the nature of a holy war.

Of course, the Prossenian church had also secularized, so they didn't use the term "holy war."

Wang Zhong: "I support Monk Petro. If the Lieutenant doesn't want to leave, then Monk, you can come with us."

Monk Petro didn't notice Wang Zhong's little scheme and nodded: "That works too. Though I think the Lieutenant will come along. After all, he doesn't want to face Prossenian armored corps with such a thin force."

The Lieutenant: "You're right. I'll go check the vehicle and fill it with gas."

At that moment, Dimitri suddenly raised his hand to signal everyone to be quiet, his expression serious as he turned up the volume on the walkie-talkie.

Prossenian chatter came through the receiver. Dimitri listened while flipping through the communications soldier's manual, picking out the code words one by one.

The conversation on the walkie-talkie lasted about twenty seconds. After the voices faded, Dimitri reported: "I'm certain that was the command vehicle of the enemy's 15th Armored Division calling their vanguard reconnaissance battalion.

"They said 'Apple Orchard' will soon be bombed, and the reconnaissance battalion should occupy 'Apple Orchard' after the bombing."

Wang Zhong raised an eyebrow, involuntarily recalling the famous anecdote of "AF has no fresh water."

If Apple Orchard was about to be bombed, and the enemy's vanguard reconnaissance battalion could still occupy it during the bombing, then Apple Orchard was most likely Kalinnovka.

Monk Petro: "It's here. Are the leather-jacket guys you captured from this reconnaissance battalion?"

"No, according to their documents, they're from the 220th Motorized Reconnaissance Regiment, part of the Prossenian Air Force." Dimitri pulled out the confiscated ID and flipped to the first page to show everyone.

Wang Zhong thought to himself, "Good grief, the Air Force has its own motorized infantry unit. That's such a German-style move."

Despite the internal commentary, the task at hand remained unchanged: "Let's go... Wait, aren't we dismantling that sound array on the roof?"

By now, Wang Zhong had already started considering the sound array and Monk Petro as part of his own team. There was no way he'd leave this thing behind.

Monk Petro shook his head: "There's no time. That thing is a hassle to take apart."

Wang Zhong looked a bit disappointed, but he still turned around, taking the lead out of the post office, only to find several Guardsmen on the village road gathered around a woodshed, staring at two legs sticking out of a hole in the roof.

Wang Zhong: "What's going on with you guys?"

"Reporting, General! We're discussing whether to set up a makeshift booby trap on this guy as he is, or to drag him out of the hole first and lay him on the ground. After all, this posture is just too..."

The Guardsman thought for a while before squeezing out an adjective: "...humorous..."

And wasn't it humorous? A grown man stuck in a woodshed in such a ridiculous pose-normally, a scene like this would only appear in a comedy.

Wang Zhong: "No need to rig a booby trap on this soldier. Stuff a note in his pocket that says: 'White Horse General Alexei Konstantinovich wishes you a pleasant occupation. I've left you twenty surprises. Hope you like them.'"

In reality, they hadn't planted nearly that many booby traps, but exaggerating the number would make the Prossenians even "happier."

Wang Zhong's order was quickly carried out, and soon after, the convoy, now with an extra vehicle, left Kalinnovka.

As they exited the village, Wang Zhong saw the old man who had given him potatoes, along with a group of elderly folks too frail to walk, standing at the village entrance.

He called for the jeep to stop, got out, and said to the elderly group: "We still have space in our vehicles. Come with us. When the Prossenians arrive, we'll bombard this place with heavy artillery."

The old man who gave him potatoes smiled: "General, you're still worrying about us! Even if there are people in the village, would your heavy artillery not fire? If preserving us old bones means the enemy suffers no losses and can attack with full force, causing your young men to sacrifice themselves, is that worth it?"

Wang Zhong: "This..."

"You must bomb it! Isn't that just how war is? If bombing us means our sons and daughters can survive, then bomb away. We've already lived long enough.

"I know you're kind-hearted, General, but if we go to the rear, we'll only consume supplies. We really can't do any work at all.

"I've been through war before. I know how scarce food will become. Better to... leave the food for the children. Let them eat well so they can fight the enemy."

The other elders nodded in agreement.

Wang Zhong couldn't find the words to respond. He could only climb back into the vehicle and order the driver to move out.

He looked back and saw the elders standing at the village entrance, as if abandoned in a past era.

----

By evening, Wang Zhong had finally completed the reconnaissance of all the villages that could potentially serve as enemy encampments.

On his way back to the village, he was surprised to find that the local garrison had stationed someone specifically at the minefield entrance to guide the way.

Upon reaching the brigade headquarters, Wang Zhong decided to immediately begin interrogating the prisoners, but he was stopped by Popov.

"They are Prossenian soldiers. They'll only keep repeating their unit, rank, and soldier number," Popov said. "Unless you use some unconventional methods."

Wang Zhong asked in confusion, "Can't we use those methods?"

Popov replied, "We are, after all, a regular army, and so are they. It wouldn't be appropriate."

Just as Wang Zhong was about to argue, he saw people from the Tribunal approaching.

Popov said, "See, matters like this should be left to the professionals. Handing them over to the Tribunal is also more procedurally compliant."

Wang Zhong raised an eyebrow, realizing that seemed to be the case.

So he said, "Of course, we should follow the rules. Thank you for your hard work, Inquisitors."

The Inquisitor nodded and stepped forward to take away the prisoner, who wore an expression of utter despair.

Popov said, "Alright, you must be hungry. Come on, let's go to the mess hall to eat."

Wang Zhong was indeed hungry. He turned back to everyone who had accompanied him on the reconnaissance today, as well as the Protectorate Army members they had brought back, and said, "Let's go eat. Follow me!"

Then he led the group to the mess hall.

And then, he frowned at the large pots lined up at the food serving counter in the mess hall.

It was all pickled cucumbers.

Every single pot was filled with pickled cucumbers!

Wang Zhong admitted that the pickled cucumbers were quite refreshing and tasted decent, but this was too much!

At that moment, the older nurse from the field cooking team came out and said, "That impulsive young man, Vasily or whatever his name is, said it was your orders. He took all the lids off the canned pickled cucumbers. I saw so many cans were opened, and if we don't eat them, they'll spoil soon. So I figured out a way to cook them all. Just make do with it!"

Facing an overwhelming amount of pickled cucumbers, Wang Zhong shouted, "Where's my French-no, my Carolingian chef?"

(End of Chapter)