Arc of Fire

Chapter 45

Wang Zhong hurriedly slid down to the position, looking at the gunner.

The gunner's arm was wrapped in a bandage, but it seemed useless; the bandage was soaked through, first the uniform, then the bandage itself.

The gunner's face was covered in blood, with only his lips a ghastly white.

His breathing was extremely weak, and his speech was feeble, as if operating the main gun just now had drained all his strength.

He stared at Wang Zhong, his right hand trembling as it lifted, pointing to the pocket on his chest.

Wang Zhong understood, quickly reaching to unbutton the pocket and pulling out a blood-soaked letter.

In various movies and dramas, he had often seen such scenes, but he never dreamed he would experience it himself.

The letter in his hand felt as heavy as a thousand pounds.

Gunner: "Agsukov, 43 Krugen Street, Alekseyevna..."

After speaking intermittently, the gunner's hand slid down to the floor.

Wang Zhong didn't know if this Alekseyevna was his wife or his mother.

Wang Zhong didn't even know the gunner's name; within the range of his memory, he had never asked for their names.

Not just the gunner, he also didn't know the loader's name.

A massive sense of guilt gripped Wang Zhong's heart, as if he had done something unforgivable.

If he knew their names, at least he could bid them a proper farewell.

In a flash, an explosion startled Wang Zhong-this wasn't the time to think about such things; the battle was still ongoing!

Wang Zhong raised his view, confirming that the explosion just now seemed to come from an enemy tank.

Of the eight tanks that entered the village, two had already been destroyed, and both were on the same street.

Wang Zhong followed the main street eastward and, sure enough, saw Brother Yatsemenko's squad relocating their position, with the ammo bearer carrying the last Divine Arrow.

A signal flare shot into the sky, fired by a Prossenian officer, likely to indicate the direction of the incoming Divine Arrow.

Immediately after seeing the signal flare, the Prossenian infantry began deploying smoke to block the Divine Arrow squad's line of sight.

At this moment, Wang Zhong felt that these well-trained enemies were truly despicable.

He had to come up with a way to take out the remaining enemy tanks, then the Vehicle 422 crew could, as before, clear out the enemy infantry lacking anti-tank firepower.

To get Vehicle 422 moving again, they needed a gunner.

Wang Zhong's first thought was to take on the role of gunner himself, but then he considered the enemy's astonishing proficiency; as a complete novice, if he became the gunner, he might doom the entire crew.

Trained individuals have muscle memory; even in panic, their bodies react based on that memory, but Wang Zhong had no training at all and had no idea how to operate a tank's main gun.

He suddenly remembered reading in a memoir that tank crew members needed to be familiar with every position, or they couldn't eventually become a tank commander.

So he asked: "Driver, do you know how to operate the main gun?"

"No! And I have to drive!"

Wang Zhong recalled that the memoir he read was by Otto Carius, which mentioned that German tank crew members needed to be versatile and capable of handling any position.

Besides, this wasn't Earth; the tank crew of the Ante Empire clearly didn't have such requirements.

Unwilling to give up, Wang Zhong asked again: "What about the mechanic? Do you know how to operate the main gun?"

No one answered.

"Mechanic?"

"He's gone too," the driver said in a low voice. "It's just a few of us left on the tank."

Wang Zhong was stunned; he had originally thought Vehicle 422's crew was lucky, that being hit head-on only cost them the loader.

Turns out, the entire crew was nearly wiped out, leaving just the driver and Wang Zhong as the tank commander.

A profound sense of loss and sorrow suddenly filled Wang Zhong's chest.

He finally understood what camaraderie in battle meant-despite not knowing the names of those fallen comrades.

So he whispered: "I don't yet know your names, but your achievements will live on forever."

But the battle still had to be fought; after a brief moment of silence, Wang Zhong shouted: "Is there anyone who can operate the cannon?"

The infantry remained silent.

At this moment, the sergeant who had been following Wang Zhong's orders spoke up: "Let's abandon the tank; we can all see it's in terrible shape."

Wang Zhong: "No, it can still fire; it's a good tank, and as long as we have a gunner, it can still fight!"

"But none of us have received the relevant training. We can drive a tractor, maybe manage a car, but a tank..." The sergeant shook his head.

Wang Zhong bit his lip.

He still wasn't willing to give up; even if the tank's cannon couldn't be used, there must be something else they could utilize-

Suddenly, it hit him.

Wang Zhong: "The engine! The enemy values radio communication highly; they must know we tricked them once with the engine. So they'll be especially attentive to the sound of the engine!"

As he spoke, Wang Zhong glanced at the overhead perspective, and at that moment, the smoke released by the enemy infantry came into view.

Wang Zhong: "And the smoke! Sergeant! How many smoke shells do we have left?"

The sergeant replied: "Plenty, Count. Additionally, we've captured a fully intact flamethrower."

Wang Zhong: "Then it's settled. I'm giving you a task: immediately release smoke along the street, let the smoke engulf the entire village!"

Sergeant: "Won't that render our machine gun firepower useless?"

"It's fine! The core of this operation is to exploit the enemy's fear of us!"

Sergeant: "Fear, sir?"

Wang Zhong hesitated; he wasn't sure if the enemy feared Vehicle 422 after he destroyed so many tanks. If they didn't, this plan would fail.

But he had to try.

The enemy currently had direct tank fire support; the machine gun couldn't fire a burst without needing to relocate, or they'd be hit by a 50mm explosive shell.

Moreover, after deploying the smoke, they might be able to launch another bayonet charge.

Having made up his mind, Wang Zhong commanded: "Deploy the smoke; after using what you have, scavenge more from enemy corpses. Let the smoke cover the entire village! Hurry!"

The sergeant saluted and turned to carry out the order.

Wang Zhong let out a long breath; although he wasn't sure if this plan would work, at least having a plan made him feel much lighter.

He touched the pocket containing the gunner's letter and softly recited: "Agsukov, 43 Krugen Street, Alekseyevna."

Naturally, Wang Zhong didn't know this place; he had never been to Agsukov, though he heard it might be the capital of this region in the Ante Empire, and the entire Southwest Army Headquarters was currently stationed there.

He just didn't know if he would ever make it to this Agsukov.

Perhaps this was the last of his time after crossing into this world; with the brutality of the Prossenian devils, he likely wouldn't survive.

As Wang Zhong was thinking, he suddenly saw smoke rising in the distance; his plan was being executed methodically.

He rallied his spirits: "Driver, rev the engine!"

Now it depended on whether he could intimidate these Prossenians.

If it didn't work, crashing into them under the cover of smoke was also an option.

My own tank is my last shell-Wang Zhong, the outsider, thought to himself, not finding anything wrong with this notion, as if he had also forgotten the original goal of survival he had set at the beginning.

----

Major Schlieffen watched the large amount of smoke rising from Upper Peniye Village, his brows knitting into a frown.

The Chief of Staff lowered his binoculars, saying tensely: "The enemy likes to release smoke and then charge with bayonets! That's what they did before!"

Major Franz, Regiment Commander of the 351st Regiment, said: "Our forces aren't afraid of close combat."

"No, Major, sir," the Battle Group Chief of Staff turned to Franz, "if the enemy dares to charge with bayonets in this situation, they must have committed their reserve forces. We've already lost half our tanks, and infantry casualties are high; continuing to engage in close combat with the enemy's reserves is not in our favor!"

Major Schlieffen clicked his tongue: "The enemy... still has reserves? From the start of our attack until now, we haven't encountered any defending forces with reserves. And this village isn't even an important one! Would they deploy so many troops to defend it?"

Chief of Staff: "There are Divine Arrow troops here, and an ace tank crew! That tank crew alone has taken out eight of our tanks!"

Major Schlieffen pursed his lips, while Major Franz looked at him with an expression that said, "It's your call," and Schlieffen couldn't shake the feeling that this old Junker noble was waiting to see him make a fool of himself.

Finally, Major Schlieffen glanced at the sun and said: "If we keep fighting, it'll turn into night battles, which favor the defenders familiar with the terrain. Let's retreat. Have the mortar units release more smoke to cover the troop withdrawal."

----

Wang Zhong watched the retreating enemy in confusion, wondering what this meant. Were they really scared off by the engine noise?

That couldn't be it, right?

Something else must have happened. Could their king have also ordered a halt to the attack for a rest?

Even if that were the case, would it have anything to do with a small place like Upper Peniye?

Regardless, the enemy had retreated.

The soldiers went from initial bewilderment to ecstatic joy. This time, there was no "Ura"; instead, it was cheers of surviving a catastrophe.

Su Fang, inside the tank, didn't know what was happening outside and asked in confusion: "What's going on? Why are they cheering? What happened? Did reinforcements arrive?"

"No, the enemy has retreated," Wang Zhong said in a low voice.

----

Thirty minutes later, nightfall had begun to descend.

Wang Zhong stood beside the church in the center of the village, looking at the bodies pulled out from the tank.

The only surviving driver was also injured, with a large piece of shrapnel in his back, so he had been sent to the hospital for emergency treatment.

Now, only Wang Zhong, the temporary tank commander, was left to bid them farewell.

More bodies were carried out and taken to the church. In today's two battles, at least two hundred had perished, with countless others injured.

Yegorov came to Wang Zhong's side, glanced at the tank crew members on the ground, and said nothing.

Wang Zhong took the initiative to speak: "Report the situation."

"Currently, only one hundred and five combat troops remain uninjured. Including lightly wounded soldiers like yourself, we have a total of four hundred still able to fight."

Wang Zhong: "A whole regiment reduced to just this many?"

Yegorov: "Yes. That's a regiment plus a tank battalion. I've hardly got any experienced sergeants left on my side, and the unit structure should be disbanded. And this tank battalion from the 4th Tank Corps, it's already gone."

Yegorov emphasized the words "already gone" with a heavy tone.

Wang Zhong: "What do you mean?"

"Holding Upper Peniye for 36 hours was the order given to that tank battalion of the 4th Tank Corps. Now, they've sacrificed all their tanks for that order." Yegorov looked at Wang Zhong, "Count, let's retreat. Troops that have endured such brutal battles, whether they're later integrated into other units or reorganized, are a valuable force. Even for the sake of the empire, we should retreat."

Wang Zhong: "Then all these sacrifices, all these comrades, wouldn't they have died in vain?"

"We've delayed the enemy for at least twenty-four hours. They were supposed to camp in this village tonight, with the village girls forced to keep them company! We've already..."

Yegorov couldn't continue.

If they retreated, what would happen to the people left in the village had already been demonstrated by Mrs. Irinichna and her family.

But Wang Zhong wasn't just concerned about that.

He turned his head to ask Yegorov: "If we retreat now, how will military history record us?"

Those professors, those idiots who have no idea what the battlefield is like, and those public intellectuals with ulterior motives will say that the 3rd Amur Regiment and the 2nd Battalion of the 31st Tank Regiment of the 4th Tank Corps are all cowards.

They won't even distinguish between those who died in battle and us!

"We must hold here until tomorrow night at eight o'clock! Yes, our forces are insufficient, but we can find ways-landmines, explosives, anything we can use!"

Yegorov: "But we don't have any. At the enemy's supply depot, we didn't find a single defensive resource. They don't think they need to defend."

Wang Zhong pursed his lips, looking at the growing number of bodies in front of him as the residents brought the fallen soldiers of the Ant Army from across the town to the church.

He sighed: "We can try to request reinforcements. Isn't there a telegraph office here?"

Wang Zhong actually had no memory of using a telegraph. By the time he could remember, no one used telegraphs anymore, so it only now occurred to him that in this era, telegraphs should be a common civilian communication method.

Yegorov: "There is, but the telegraph office uses wired telegraphs, just like telephones. Now, they're all cut off. Even the main telegraph and telephone offices in the big cities might have been bombed by enemy planes. No one can send a message."

Wang Zhong frowned. At that moment, he noticed Su Fang looking like she wanted to say something, and a sudden idea struck him: "We still have the hymn monks. Now that the battlefield has calmed down, and there are mass props in the church, can we hold a mass?"

"Yes!" Su Fang nodded repeatedly, "But I need someone who understands the mass procedure to help me."

Wang Zhong: "Let Lyudmila help. Is one person enough?"

Su Fang: "For the smallest mass, we need three people. Me, Lyudmila, and one more clergy member."

Wang Zhong: "Then it can only be Brother Yatsemenko. What does the mass entail?"

"Prayer, sermon, and communion." Su Fang shrugged, "The mass is simple, but it takes a long time, and there's no guarantee the other side will hear it. I have to maintain a kneeling position, reciting hymns and the message until tomorrow morning. Don't expect me to man the machine gun tomorrow."

Wang Zhong: "Do it."

Su Fang skipped away cheerfully.

Wang Zhong looked at Yegorov: "If there's no response by tomorrow morning, we'll retreat."

Yegorov: "Can we even retreat in the morning? It's best to withdraw tonight."

Wang Zhong was resolute: "Wait for a response first."

----

After making the decision, Wang Zhong hurriedly ate some beef and pickled cucumber, then chose to sleep for a while.

He only remembered he was running a low fever when he was on the verge of passing out. It seemed adrenaline could temporarily suppress illness.

He didn't know how long he slept, but when he got up, it was completely dark outside, with a slight chill in the air.

After waking up, his first instinct was to touch the letter on him addressed to Mrs. Alekseyevna at 43 Krugen Street, Agsukov.

He had sworn that as long as he was alive, he would deliver this letter to that lady.

Confirming the letter was still safe, Wang Zhong breathed a sigh of relief, stood up, and put on his coat.

He heard singing outside and thought it might be part of the mass, so he headed toward the door with the intention of checking it out.

As he stepped out, the guard snapped to attention with a salute, the sound of his heels clicking together startling Wang Zhong.

He carefully observed the guard and noticed that this Private Second Class held his head high, his gaze burning with intensity.

From that look, Wang Zhong felt the soldier's trust in him.

At that moment, he suddenly recalled when he first crossed into this world, all he had thought about was surviving in this chaotic era, nothing more.

Really, when did he start seeing himself as the last bullet? He didn't even know what the full picture of this country was like.

Though he mocked himself a little, Wang Zhong had no intention of changing his current resolve.

Because of this trust, and because he had shed blood alongside them.

Of course, there was also justice, and pride-look at this, now I'm fighting for universal truth and justice, just like the International Brigades in Spain.

Walking out of the distillery manager's office, Wang Zhong stood on the steps at the factory entrance, looking at the soldiers gathered in the yard.

It was a group of wounded soldiers, likely gathered here to warm themselves by the fire and share roasted meat because the hospital had run out of beds.

They were the ones singing.

Wang Zhong surprisingly recognized the melody of the song-it was "On the Opposite Bank of the River," once chosen as the theme song for the Chinese version of *How the Steel Was Tempered*.

A baritone hummed: Distant riverbanks light up with lanterns

The evening glow fades into the clear night sky

Mounting the warhorse, shouldering the rifle

Young soldiers set off fully equipped

As the baritone sang solo, the others harmonized together, as if they had all been trained in choir singing.

The vast wilderness lay in silence

Warriors vigilantly scanned for enemy movements

In the darkness, bayonets gleamed with cold light

They encountered the enemy's ambush

The song soon reached the passionate chorus, with someone even pulling out an accordion to accompany, everyone singing in unison:

Brave warriors charged at the enemy with a shout

On the grassland, a desperate struggle unfolded

This chorus felt so fitting for today's situation, no wonder the warriors were singing it now.

As Wang Zhong was thinking this, the chorus ended, and the initial baritone continued his solo:

A warrior was shot and fell from his horse

He heroically sacrificed himself for the nation's cause

As the baritone's voice faded, the others continued humming in harmony, as if mourning today's fallen comrades in this way.

Wang Zhong stood on the steps, savoring the sorrow flowing freely in the night air.

At that moment, Yegorov appeared.

Wang Zhong asked: "Has the mass received a response?"

Yegorov shook his head: "No. If we're going to retreat, we should do it now. In two hours, it'll be dawn."

Wang Zhong glanced at the warriors still humming the mournful tune, feeling a pang of softness in his heart.

Just then, he faintly heard the sound of engines in the night sky.

"The enemy?" That was his first thought.

Yegorov looked to the east: "No, the sound is coming from the east."

Pavlov, rushing over, said: "It must be the enemy, carefully detouring to flank us!"

Wang Zhong ignored him and shifted his perspective, only to see complete darkness with nothing visible-his own vision wouldn't highlight enemies.

So Wang Zhong headed straight for the water tower.

After taking a few steps, he reconsidered, thinking it might be clearer to check at the village entrance, and shouted: "Bucephalus!"

The white horse inherited from Captain Lubokov came running straight from the stable, already saddled.

Huh, how was it already saddled?

Wang Zhong looked toward the stable and saw the original tank commander of Vehicle 422 hiding behind the stable door.

It seemed this guy had secretly saddled Bucephalus, planning to ride it and escape!

Wang Zhong pointed at the stable: "Grab that deserter! Execute him on the spot!"

The crew of Vehicle 422 was exemplary, and Wang Zhong wouldn't allow anyone to tarnish their courage.

After saying this, he mounted the horse and rode Bucephalus with ease, galloping wildly-it seemed this body had muscle memory for riding.

Bucephalus became like a bolt of lightning in the night.

Reaching the village entrance, Wang Zhong raised his field of view.

By now, the roar of the engines was very close.

First, there was no highlight, so it wasn't the enemy.

Wang Zhong carefully discerned the shapes approaching along the main road in the darkness and suddenly burst into laughter.

In World War II, there were many exaggerated "myths," like the "Zero Fighter Myth." In reality, the Zero's achievements were mostly against outdated fighters like the F2A, while newer American models like the P-38 and F4F never let the Zero gain the upper hand.

Then there was the German armored myth.

In fact, at the start of Operation Barbarossa, most of the German achievements were against light tanks like the BT-7 and other outdated models. As soon as they encountered the T34, they were immediately at a disadvantage, and Guderian even developed a "T34 phobia."

Later research showed that Guderian had actually mistaken other tanks for the T34.

The tank that terrified Guderian created multiple one-against-many miracles in the early stages of the war, with a single vehicle even halting an entire German division's advance.

In its presence, the father of German armored forces exclaimed, "Our armored superiority no longer exists."

Now, this "culprit" that had terrified blitzkrieg heroes in another timeline was approaching Upper Peniye.

Though there was only one, Wang Zhong, who knew military history, saw it as a lifeline.

For the first time, he found the sturdy shape of this tank to be so beautiful.

He saw a KV1 heavy tank.

(End of Chapter)