Cannon Fire Arc

On the morning of July 17th, Wang Zhong glanced at his watch and nodded to Pavlov.

Pavlov picked up the phone, "Connect to the artillery position."

Wang Zhong stood with his hands behind his back, looking at the map covered with targets identified by the reconnaissance team the day before. The artillery command should have devised a fire plan, and all these targets would be subjected to a simultaneous barrage.

Wang Zhong had seen the effects of such firepower with his own eyes; the craters were still there in Yeisk. According to the locals, the ground shook like an earthquake during the bombardment.

At the time, Wang Zhong asked a local whether the shelling had caused them any harm, and the local's expression left a deep impression on Wang Zhong: He said through gritted teeth that if it could kill the Prussian bastards, it would be worth dying for.

The Prussians had occupied Yeisk for only a short time, yet the hatred had already etched deep into their bones. If ever there came a time of peace and there were "public intellectuals" who tried to exonerate the Prussians, Wang Zhong was sure he would pull out his pistol, which had been blessed by the Grand Patriarch, to give them a "chill".

While Wang Zhong was thinking this, he heard Pavlov shout into the receiver, "Fire!"

He looked up and could faintly hear the sound of the artillery firing outside the city, beyond the thick walls of the warehouse.

Pavlov stared at Wang Zhong for a few seconds.

Noticing his gaze, Wang Zhong asked, "What's wrong?"

"I'm wondering whether you want to go out and drive your little tank."

"I really do want to drive my little tank. I even fancy charging into battle riding Bucephalus. Will you let me?"

Pavlov shook his head, "No way, of course not!"

"Well, that's that," Wang Zhong said, shaking his head, imagining Pavlov turning into a white-haired beauty countless times in his mind. Damn it, in a normal cute story, shouldn't Ludmila be the chief of staff?

I was thinking when I first time-traveled here and saw Ludmila, this must be the start of a cute story, right?

Suddenly, Pavlov shivered, then looked around, puzzled, "What's going on? Why did I just shiver all of a sudden?"

Wang Zhong pointed to the ground, "Quick, check if you've stepped on a landmine."

Pavlov glared at Wang Zhong, "I'm wearing leather shoes. Even if I stepped on it, nothing would happen. Do you know what insulation is?"

"No idea, I came last in my class. I don't understand any of that," Wang Zhong said, indignant.

Pavlov shook his head and ignored Wang Zhong.

Damn, the déjà vu feeling of "My Chief of Staff Can't Possibly Be This Cute" grew stronger.

Pavlov got busy with his work, and Wang Zhong could only run over to the wireless camp, as he had discovered that whenever he stood next to a radio, he could gain the perspective of the unit they connected with.

For example, if they called up the headquarters of the 225th Division, he would gain the perspective of the division's headquarters — yes, only the headquarters' perspective, not the perspective of the units below the division.

But many times, by looking at the perspective from the division's headquarters, one could see the situation around the headquarters, and for a high-ranking commander, that was already enough.

So Wang Zhong took what he considered a very cool POSE next to the radio area, then started switching his viewpoint all over the place.

He saw the vanguard reconnaissance jeep of the 225th Division hidden on the edge of the underbrush, with a radio operator observing the results of the shelling up close.

He saw the near-guard mechanized infantry tank unit already in their starting positions, anxiously waiting for the artillery preparation to finish.

He saw—

As Wang Zhong switched his observational focus at the speed of a professional StarCraft player, he overheard someone whispering nearby, "What is the general doing?"

"Probably attuning with heaven and earth, receiving instructions from Saint Andrew."

Wang Zhong was startled, how did they come to such an idea? I didn't strike any particularly conspicuous poses, did I?

He quickly reverted the perspective to the warehouse and from a 45-degree angle took a look at his own pose.

He realized one thing: without checking in a mirror, it was impossible to know what kind of posture he had struck.

Damn it, just a bit more twisted and he would be striking a JOJO pose; no wonder the people around were whispering to each other.

Wang Zhong switched back, struck a normal pose, and continued changing viewpoints.

As soon as he switched again, he heard someone gossiping softly, "Did he hear our whispers?"

"Probably, to cover up the fact he's tuning with heaven and earth."

Wang Zhong wanted to switch back and correct their words, but then he thought better of it; setting the record straight would only make things worse. It was better to let it be. After all, he had to stare at the overall view all day long, so having an explanation wasn't bad.

Thus, he completely ignored the gossip around him and focused on checking perspectives of the various units that happened to be in contact, keeping track of the battlefield situation.

————

At the same time, in the Prussian 190th Division's headquarters, the division commander hugged a radio and shouted, "Hello! Hello! I'm under artillery fire! I'm under intense artillery fire! Damn, why did the phone lines have to be chewed by a ground squirrel just now! Damn it! Hello! Hello! I'm under intense artillery fire!"

As the division commander was howling, the tent flap lifted and two motorcycle couriers rushed in, shouting, "Our western edge defensive position is under intense enemy artillery fire! Not only the position, but the blast shelters behind it are also being shelled; the anti-shell shelters on this muddy ground can't withstand this kind of bombardment!"

The division commander said, "Don't you realize we're being shelled everywhere? With such ferocious firepower, the entire Front Army's artillery must be firing at us!"

The division commander had never seen simultaneous barrage fire, so naturally, he misjudged the scale of the bombardment.

Messenger: "General, we should request reinforcements from neighboring units."

Previously, the 190th Division prepared to support Yeisk along with three other infantry divisions. Yet Yeisk fell all of a sudden, and General Boke judged that the four divisions positioned on the plain without any buildings would become live targets for the Ante People's artillery—Rocossov was an expert at employing cannon.

Thus, General Boke arranged the four infantry divisions in echelons, ready to send reinforcements from the rear in a so-called "wave defense" in case of an attack.

The commander of the 190th Division shouted at the messenger; "Now is the time for wave defense, where are the follow-up forces?"

The messengers looked at each other, and the lead sergeant said: "General, we are just two messengers, here to report that our peripheral positions have suffered heavy damage."

The division commander: "I now order you to immediately set off for the Corps Command and tell them we are under artillery fire!"

No sooner had he spoken than a communications staff yelled, "It's through! The radio's through!"

The division commander immediately grabbed the radio headset and microphone and yelled: "This is 190! This is 190! We are being shelled!"

The response from the other side was: "Louder! Louder!"
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"This is 190, we are under enemy attack!"

In fact, they were not under attack, but in actual combat, commanders at all levels tended to exaggerate their attacks to secure more reinforcements from higher command—even the meticulous Prussians were no exception.

"Louder!" came the response again.

The division commander threw his gear down and cursed vehemently.

The communications battalion commander intervened immediately, saying: "Our antenna was blown up by a cannon, so it's normal for the communication to be poor using only the indoor antenna."

Division commander: "Send someone to check the lines quickly, get the phone line connected!"

Battalion commander: "We sent someone as soon as the enemy shelling began, because the shelling is very likely to break the phone lines!"

The division commander could only pace back and forth in the tent; after two laps, he suddenly noticed the two messengers still standing there and roared: "Why haven't you two left? Hurry to the Corps Command!"

Messenger sergeant: "We don't know where the Corps Command is."

Of course, the location of the Corps Command was not something a few messengers stationed on the front line would know, so their staying behind was understandable.

But the division commander did not want to hear excuses and scolded: "What are you doing! Chief of staff, tell them quickly!"

At that moment a shell landed outside the tent, and the blast wave instantly blew the tent and the stakes that held it aloft away.

The division commander was engulfed by the flying tent and, after struggling for a while, broke into fierce cursing.

At that moment, the chief of staff handed the messengers a note with the location of the command and signaled them to leave quickly.

The two turned and ran, hopping onto a tricycle motorbike and sped off in a cloud of dust.

————

General Boke from the 191st Division, positioned behind the 190th Division, learned that the 190th Division was under artillery fire.

He clenched his fist tightly: "Excellent! The enemy has finally broken through the center. As long as we employ staggered defenses, we can delay and deplete the enemy—"

Before he could finish, the Army Group chief of staff interrupted him: "Our supply lines have been completely cut off by the enemy's cavalry troops. All the supply units are now relying on the second tank line for constricted defense. If this situation continues for several days, the front-line troops will have nothing to eat!"

General Boke angrily said: "I know! I know that! But now Rocossov doesn't want to starve us to death; he plans to attack! That way we can thwart him! Rocossov also knows, the cavalry troops' sustainability is at most a week, he must defeat us within a week! So he plans to first crush our 190th Division, and then gradually penetrate our defenses, reaching here, understand? Here!"

General Boke pointed to the ground with his finger.

"Here! This guy definitely wants to capture me alive, just like he has with other generals! It's his way of showcasing his power!"

————

190th Division, the division headquarters tent that had been toppled by the explosion of a shell.

As soon as the shelling ceased, the division commander was working hard to restore contact with units throughout the division.

The wireless antenna was re-erected, and the surviving messengers were found and mounted on motorcycles, war horses, or bicycles that were still intact.

As the division commander was issuing orders left and right, suddenly a signaler called out: "Division commander, we have contact with the northern position."

The division commander rushed over, picked up the headset, and said, "Hello! Can you hear me?"

"Loud and clear! Reporting to the division commander, enemy armored units are moving through our position, enemy armored units are moving through our position!"

Division commander: "What about your anti-tank guns?"

"Destroyed!"

Division commander: "I will divert the assault gun battalion there!"

After he spoke, he handed the headset and microphone to the signaler, commanding loudly, "Call the assault gun battalion, we need them to intercept the enemy's tank units now!"

At that moment another signaler shouted: "Contact with the southern position established, the enemy is flanking! It's a pincer movement! We're going to be encircled!"