Arc of Fire

On the enemy side.

Major General Franz of the 24th Armored Grenadier Division arrived early in the morning at Karlinovka, where in the makeshift chapel set up by the army chaplain, he saw the body of Major General Rondorf, which had been laid out for a day and was somewhat swollen.

“Poor Rondorf,” Franz said, looking up at Rondorf’s face after a moment of silence, “I know he wanted to emulate the young Erwin who always charged at the forefront in the Carolingian Campaign, so he pushed the headquarters very close to the front line.”

The 15th Armored Division Chief of Staff said, “Please accept my condolences, I heard that you and the division commander were classmates at the military academy.”

“I was three grades above him,” Franz made a curt nod, not continuing to discuss the past, instead shifting the conversation to the day’s battle, “I received a report, have our troops been delayed by mines?”

15th Armored Division Chief of Staff: “Yes, mines suddenly appeared five kilometers away from the city, they must have been laid last night.”

Major General Franz: “You didn’t leave a unit to monitor the enemy, and that’s why this problem occurred. What, were you scared out of your wits by the enemy’s new tanks?”

The Chief of Staff’s expression immediately became constrained: “This…”

Major General Franz: “I heard it was a white-painted T34 tank?”

“No, I don’t remember it that way, the color should have been the ordinary Ante Army protective color paint,” the Chief of Staff raised his right hand, his index finger drawing circles in the air as he recalled the scene, “The tactical number was 422, and next to the number there was a drawing of a white horse. Additionally, there was a dirty and torn flag on the radio antenna.”

“A dirty and torn flag?” Major General Franz repeated, “Is this a specific description, or does it have a special meaning?”

The Chief of Staff: “A specific description, it’s just the Ante Empire’s national flag looking dirty and mucky, with a lot of bloodstains on it.”

Major General Franz, while tapping his palm with a riding crop—a number of Junker nobility officers carried a riding crop even when not mounted, as a replacement for a gentleman’s cane.

It is said that the Junker nobility used this as a way to distinguish themselves from the emerging industrial nobility.

Major General Franz tapped his palm with the riding crop, murmuring: “Bloodstains, a filthy flag, dirt and tears on the tank’s flag are understandable, but how did the bloodstains get there? Do tanks bleed too?”

The Chief of Staff could only shake his head.

After a moment, Major General Franz decided not to dwell on these details: “You were scared out of your wits by the tank, and retreated to Karlinovka in a panic, not even leaving a unit to monitor the enemy, allowing the enemy to lay mines again. You will be held accountable afterwards.”

With that, Franz made a gesture, and his adjutant immediately handed him a white flower.

Franz threw the white flower into Rondorf’s casket and turned to walk away.

Immediately to the right of the chapel was the current headquarters of the 15th Armored Division, with a small door leading directly into it.

Franz entered through the small door and approached the map, tapping it with his riding crop: “Loktov! Now guarded by the enemy’s famous White Horse General.

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“This White Horse General, who has never appeared in any exchanges between our army and the Ante Army, repeatedly inflicts painful blows on our forces!

“The intelligence department can’t find his ranking in the university; among the students who graduated from the Suvorov Military Academy in the last fifteen years, none in the top one hundred bear that name! Are our excellent officers being defeated by a poor student?

“It’s incomprehensible! As ridiculous as a non-commissioned officer commanding the entire Prosen Empire!”

After saying this, Major General Franz again tapped the map a few times with his riding crop.

The staff in the map room, whether from the 15th or the 24th Armored, all remained silent with serious expressions.

Major General Franz sighed: “Next, we have to eliminate this so-called White Horse General and crush the Ante Empire’s will to resist! Just as we must—we must quickly take their capital, the St. Ye Katerina Fortress!”

“Long live the Empire!” Franz’s adjutant shouted.

“Long live!” the others hurriedly followed suit.

“All right!” The general held up his riding crop, “How is the progress on clearing the mines?”

“The enemy minefield is not covered by firepower, and the engineers believe they can clear a safe passage by 10:30.”

Franz: “Good, continue the artillery preparation on Loktov until then. The artillery’s ammunition has been stuck on the road for so long, it’s time to use it up!”

Previously, due to inadequate preparation for the road conditions in the Ante Empire, the Prosen army was at one point stuck in traffic, with cannons and shells unable to keep up with the assault vanguard, so the armored units had always relied on accompanying self-propelled mortars for offensive operations.

But with the war now sixteen days in, the Prosen Army had already captured some railway hubs, and with the aid of railway transport, the traffic jams had finally eased.

The Prosen now had an ample supply of shells.

As soon as Major General Franz gave the order, a staff member immediately went to phone the artillery.

The general continued to study the map, then suddenly tapped the 513 Anti-Aircraft Artillery Regiment’s marker with his riding crop: “Is the anti-aircraft artillery currently deployed?”

“Yes,” the 15th Armored’s Chief of Staff answered, “I had them select good interception positions and deploy yesterday.”

“Too far, they’re too far from the front. Have them enter marching order, I will designate a deployment position after I conduct a personal reconnaissance of the front.”

The Chief of Staff from the 15th was shocked: “You’re going to the front line yourself?”

“An excellent commander must have a clear, clear grasp of the front-line terrain! If I were an Army Group Commander, then I could delegate the task of personally understanding the terrain to the division commanders below me. But as I am a division commander now, I must take responsibility for the troops!”

After a pause, the general added: “Of course, I will not be as eager and aggressive as Rondorf, I will stay with the divisional reserve. As for you, Armored Troops!”

The few armored troops officers in the room all stood at attention, chin held high.

The uniform of the Prosen Empire’s Armored Troops was blacker than that of regular troops, and the collar insignia was replaced with a skull symbol instead of rank insignia.

Major General: “Your mission today is to advance alone after the passage through the minefield has been cleared.”

“Isn’t it to let the armored grenadiers push into the city?” a Major of the Armored Troops asked with confusion.

Major General: “No, no, after being delayed by land mines, it’s already very difficult for us to capture the city this morning, but we can try to kill this White Horse General!

“He wiped out so many of our tanks yesterday, and inferior races are very prone to getting carried away! Right now, he must think they are invincible!

“Your mission is to release smoke and retreat after losing ten percent of your tanks. The enemy will surely give chase! We plan to ambush them at this position!”

The Major General forcefully slapped the map on Hill 120 with his riding crop.

“I will personally choose the best firing positions for the anti-aircraft guns! In Carolingian, we stopped Carolingian’s armored counterattack with 88-mm guns and destroyed a large number of B1 heavy tanks. We shall—recreate this glory!”

———-

July 8th 1130 hours.

The enemy’s second artillery preparation finally ended.

The crew members of the T34 tank came out from the anti-shell shelters and began inspecting their tanks.

Due to heavy artillery bombardment, shock waves could cause the inner walls of tanks to peel off. While this peeling often did no damage to the mechanical equipment of the tank, it was deadly for the crew inside.

Therefore, during bombardment, crew members generally left the tank, only taking shelter inside if there was no other way—choosing the lesser of two evils, as being in the tank was still safer than lying outside.

The crew of tank number 213 chatted leisurely while inspecting their tank.

Loader Aleksei (a common name): “I don’t understand, our new tanks are overwhelmingly superior to the enemy’s, why don’t we attack proactively? The enemy artillery is at most a dozen kilometers away, we could get there in half an hour! No, in 15 minutes!

“If we wiped out their artillery, we wouldn’t be bombed like this!

“How many people have died because of this bombardment!”

The tank commander glared at him: “What are you saying! The General has his own considerations!”

“What considerations? The enemy can’t even penetrate us! We should be charging forward! Look, our tank has 40 armor-piercing shells, let’s say it takes two shells to destroy one enemy tank, that’s 20 tanks!

“If we charge forward, the enemy’s 400 tanks will be finished! Then use high-explosive shells to blow up their hundreds, maybe thousands, of trucks, and we could relieve Karlinovka!”

“Alyosha!” the tank commander raised his voice, “What are you talking about! Do you think you understand the enemy better than the General?”

The loader pursed his lips: “He himself should lead the charge, then! I heard from the electrician of tank 422 that they killed a general! Why not lead us in the charge as well!”

“Because at that time, you were screaming ‘I’ve been hit aahhhhh,’” the driver finally couldn’t help but retort, “Every time we get hit by the Prussian artillery, you start wailing. If I were the General, I wouldn’t take someone like you in a charge either.”

Loader Aleksei defended himself: “I really felt like I had been hit! My body felt as if it was punched!”

“Oh, right, right, the enemy’s armor-piercing shell hit you through the 60-mm sloped armor. Let me tell you, you’re also named Aleksei, the General is also named Aleksei; maybe all your courage was sucked away by him?”

“I…”

“Shush, the General is coming!”

After saying that, the tank commander was the first to stand up straight on the tank, holding his head high as he looked at the approaching tank number 422.

Unlike the standard model T34, the General’s command tank had a larger turret, looking even more imposing.

Of course, the most imposing was the General himself, with his upper body emerging from the turret, holding onto the hatch cover, eyes fixed ahead.

A red flag fluttered in the wind at the tip of the radio antenna behind the General.

The crew of tank 213 held their heads high, saluting the General as soldiers awaiting inspection would.

After the General’s tank passed by, the loader was the first to speak up: “I’ve heard that when the General’s tank charges, he likes to stick his head out of the turret to feel the wind blowing in his face!”

The tank commander scolded: “You idiot, that’s for observing the enemy. You’d understand if you were the commander; you can’t see anything without sticking your head out. If it wasn’t for having to aim, I’d be sticking my head out too!”

“Doesn’t the General have to aim?” the loader asked.

“His tank is a parade vehicle, manned by Instructor Alexander Yefimovich from the Armored Training Brigade as the gunner. The General doesn’t have to aim himself!”

“Oh, I see,” the loader nodded, then asked, “Why does the General’s tank have a red flag? Wasn’t it just a flag yesterday?”

The driver laughed: “You were just saying you heard this and that, so how come you don’t know about such an important matter? Let me tell you, that red flag on the General’s tank is specially dyed, representing every soldier under his command who has sacrificed their life.

“The General also said, ‘One day, I too will spill my blood on the battlefield, and my valor will stain the red flag!’”

The driver imitated the General so well it was as if General Rokossovsky had really said those words.

“Really!” Loader Aleksei gazed towards the direction the General had gone. Tank 422 was now obscured by the shelter, but the red flag was still clearly visible.

At this moment, their platoon leader came running over: “Monk has heard the enemy tanks’ engines, battle stations! Into the shelters!”

Tank 213 did not have a radio—only the platoon command tank had such equipment, so the platoon leader had to run over to inform them like this.

The tank commander shouted: “Did you hear that! Hurry, pack up the toolboxes! Into position!”