Arc of Fire

Wang Zhong finished speaking, stood up, and called for a guard: “Grigori!”

Recently, some saboteurs had attacked senior military officers in the city, so even in his own manor, Wang Zhong now required the accompaniment of guards.

Fully armed, Grigori pushed the door open and saluted Wang Zhong: “General.”

As Wang Zhong was about to leave, Pavlov said, “Since we’ve confirmed the defense position is at Orachi, I’ll start drawing up the marching plan.”

“So soon? What if we’re not allowed to go to Orachi? Wouldn’t it be better to wait for the orders?” Wang Zhong asked.

Pavlov sighed, “At times like this, I feel you truly deserve to be at the bottom of your class, constantly hopping between genius and idiot.”

Wang Zhong thought to himself that Pavlov was overestimating him; he had never systematically studied military theory, only dabbling in bits and pieces here and there.

Without the cheat, he would have been finished long ago.

As Wang Zhong was thinking this, Pavlov dutifully explained, “Before, we could move out whenever we wanted to because our troop composition was simple, mostly infantry, with very few accompanying laborers.

“But now, with so many people, just organizing the non-combat personnel who accompany the army will consume a lot of effort. We need to devise a detailed marching plan.

“Otherwise, you can expect half of these people to get lost on the way. Even with a detailed plan, we’ll still have considerable casualties en route, and we’ll need to reorganize the troops once we reach our destination.”

After Pavlov finished, Popov added, “Only the strongest of troops can be immediately thrown into battle after a long march.”

I do indeed know of such a strong force, but unfortunately, it’s not from this world.

Wang Zhong: “Then we’ll rely on you, especially since you have a level-six bureaucrat. I’m sure you can handle it!”

As he said this, a staff officer happened to be passing by from the administration side, and just as the door opened, a series of very loud sneezes sounded out, three in a row.

Pavlov: “See, you’re praising someone to their doom, causing a 65-year-old school director to sneeze.”

Wang Zhong shrugged his shoulders and slipped out of the map room.

————

In the square in front of the division headquarters, a large group of new recruits from the Fifth Belsensk Regiment were training — which was actually the former Guardian Army’s 105th Infantry Regiment.

The subject of training was the disassembly and maintenance of firearms — the veterans insisted this was most crucial because if the new soldiers couldn’t even clear a jam on the battlefield, they would be sitting ducks.

Wang Zhong walked along the edge of the square toward the parking lot while watching the new recruits struggle with their Mosin-Nagants.

At that moment, a frail-looking Colonel approached Wang Zhong with a rather unstandard salute.

Wang Zhong returned the gesture and asked, “Are you Colonel Eugene of the Fifth Belsensk Regiment?”

“Yes, that’s me.” The Colonel sighed, “Looking at me, don’t you understand? I’m not a military man; I’m just a factory director. When I agreed to a rank transfer, I never thought I would become a Colonel!”

Wang Zhong: “How many people did you manage before on the local level?”

“Over a thousand, I guess. I was the mining chief of East Kazarlia, running a mine that consistently employed over a thousand miners.”

Wang Zhong: “Then that’s just right; the Fifth Belsensk Regiment has roughly the strength of one regiment now, about 2,500 people, about the same as the mine you used to manage, right?”

“This is different!” Colonel Eugene began to list the downsides earnestly.

Wang Zhong’s attitude was one of not listening, turning a deaf ear as if listening to nonsensical prattle.

But he couldn’t say that outright. He patted Colonel Eugene on the shoulder, “Everyone has a first time, me included! Just take the first step, and you’ll be fine!”

Having said that, Wang Zhong admired his own ability to spout such high-sounding nonsense.

“But…”

Wang Zhong put on a stern face, “Don’t say anymore! This is the military. If you drop the ball, I’ll have you shot! So just do the best you can!”

Eugene looked like he had more to say but finally sighed, “I was just hoping to get better treatment for my family in anticipation of a potential rationing system being implemented!”

Wang Zhong suddenly felt a bit of pity for Colonel Eugene, but the good news was that the Ante Empire’s food production was very sufficient. Even losing Kazarlia, its largest grain-producing region, the Empire could still obtain enough meat and grain from the fertile pastures of the eastern border areas.

At least, the common people of the Ante Empire did not need to worry too much about hunger.

After parting with the Colonel, Wang Zhong took two steps at a time to reach the jeep, got in without waiting for Grigori to help open the door.

Grigori started the jeep and drove along the manor’s tree-lined path towards the main building.

Just setting off, Wang Zhong saw on the roadside lawn, the gunner Alexander from tank 422 sharing his experience with a new tank crew: “Because we don’t have a tank commander, once we hit the battlefield, our field of view is basically fixed to the front. Therefore, whether it’s charging in formation or defending and shooting from a position, the squad leaders must ensure their tanks cover different directions to compensate for each other’s blind spots in their field of view.”

Wang Zhong frowned slightly. Alexander was indeed correct, but he had overlooked a crucial point: ordinary T34s didn’t have radios. Without them, even if their field of view could overlap, the ordinary T34s couldn’t receive warnings from allies — what were they supposed to do, “play music” by machine-gunning friendly tanks?

After passing the armored battalion, there was the artillery training ground where the 155th Heavy Howitzer Battalion was simulating rapid loading for their guns with practice rounds.

A bit further on was the Anti-Aircraft Artillery Battalion. As Wang Zhong’s command had previously lacked this type of unit, there was no one to share their expertise with them, so the anti-aircraft gunners had to rely on training manuals for their pre-battle drills.

Nearing the main building, Wang Zhong saw his assigned Anti-tank Artillery Battalion. Dimitri, along with a group who had actual experience with anti-tank guns, was explaining the Prosen Tank’s weak spots to the gunners using a detailed diagram.

Wang Zhong watched with satisfaction as everyone was busy with their duties. Just then, the jeep came to a stop.

Grigori: “We’ve arrived, General.”

“I know, this is my home!” Wang Zhong said.

————

Old Rocossov’s study, Jules 914 July 22, 1200 hours.

After listening to Wang Zhong’s analysis, Old Rocossov nodded, “Your reasoning is sound, I’ll try to get you a redeployment order so you can move to the Orachi region for garrison duty.

“However, are you really that certain that Major General Skorobo’s counterattack will be completely ineffective?”

Wang Zhong then repeated his theory that the enemy would use tanks to lure the attacking forces into an ambush laid by 88mm guns.

Old Rocossov: “This 88mm anti-aircraft gun, is it the one you reported being destroyed by explosives during an attack on a potential anti-tank position with the B4 as stated in your report?”

“Yes. At this stage, it is the nemesis of all our tanks, it can even penetrate the KV series from a great distance.”

What Wang Zhong didn’t say was that the gun was not just penetrating but also had first-rate destructive effects; basically, a single hit meant a sure kill, none could survive.

Old Rocossov: “Have you reported this to the Front Army headquarters?”

“I have.” Wang Zhong was not going to hide the lessons learned for his own benefit—these were things that could save lives; to keep the experience to himself was irresponsible to the entire army.

Old Rocossov: “Indeed, Skorobo is a very stubborn man. I hope that after he loses those three tank armies, he will come to his senses and issue the order to retreat in time.”

Wang Zhong: “Whether he comes to his senses in time or not, we will hold at Olga for at least four days, giving the troops four more days to break out of the encirclement.”

Old Rocossov sighed, “I always feel it’s unlikely he will come to his senses in time. I know him too well.”

Wang Zhong scratched his head, not keen on discussing the infuriating General of the Front Army, and changed the subject, “When are you planning to evacuate, Your Excellency the General?”

“I don’t plan to evacuate,” said Old Rocossov. “You have your old unit, and I have mine. I’ll stay and lead them to break out when the moment is critical. You can understand that, right?”

Wang Zhong nodded.

He could understand, but he still had mixed feelings.

He was supposed to have little emotional attachment to his “family” in this world—that’s how it should be.

But when he thought about the old man possibly dying in the upcoming siege, it made him quite troubled.

Thus, Wang Zhong decided to try persuading a few more times, but the old man countered with a question, “Put yourself in my shoes, facing a hopeless situation, then receiving an order from above telling you to abandon your unit and flee alone, would you do it?”

Wang Zhong: “Of course not. I would fight with my unit until the very last moment. But…”

Old man: “You’ve accepted it rationally but not emotionally, haven’t you?”

Wang Zhong hesitated a moment before nodding.

The old man laughed heartily and pressed an electric bell on the desk.

Ten seconds later the old butler appeared: “Master!”

“Bring the wine! My ingrate of a son will be worried for me! Hurry, bring the wine!”

The butler: “The doctor said… I’m going to get the wine.”

Having said that, he bowed to Old Rocossov, then to Wang Zhong, before leaving.

The old man then stood up, took out several wafers from a tin can on the coffee table, and threw one to Wang Zhong: “Here, these are my attempt at making them, trying to recreate the taste of the ones your nanny used to bake that you liked so much as a child, see if they taste right!”

Wang Zhong took a bite, his brow instantly furrowing: “This is terrifyingly sweet!”

“Oh? Is it?” The old man tasted one for himself, his brow also creasing, “Oh, how can it be so sweet? It tasted normal when I had it?”

Wang Zhong: “How would I know?”

The old man thought for a moment and slapped his thigh: “I’ve got it, I added sugar and then honey, and I only tasted it after the sugar! I forgot honey is sweet! What a waste.”

He tossed the wafers back into the tin.

At that moment the butler brought the wine and glasses.

Old Rocossov: “Come, let’s drink, father and son! To your triumphant advance!”

Wang Zhong: “And to your successful breakout.”

“Ha-ha, if you hold firm, I will definitely break out. You should worry less about your old dad, look after yourself!”

With that, Old Rocossov stuffed a glass into Wang Zhong’s hand, snatched the bottle from the butler, filled it up for him, and then did the same for himself.

“To the mother of Ante,” he said, raising his glass.

Wang Zhong: “To the mother of Ante.”