17kNovel

Font: Big Medium Small
Dark Eye-protection
17kNovel > Arc of Fire > Chapter 700: Rocossov’s Red Flag Shines on the Revenge

Chapter 700: Rocossov’s Red Flag Shines on the Revenge

    Chapter 700: Chapter 38 Rocossov’s Red g Shines on the Revenge


    The Prosen Asgard Knight Order’s Anpura Division, 52nd Armored Battalion.


    This battalion was fully equipped with the new Model 5 tanks, which are the Leopard Tanks.


    Of course, like other Leopard Tank Battalions preparing for the summer campaign, this one was also gued by mechanical failures. Only this morning could they barely muster 28 Leopards tounch an assault.


    These 28 tanks did put up a real fight, all sessfully making it to the battlefield.


    Perhaps this was because all the mechanically wed ones had already been sent to the repair shop, leaving only the ones without major issues.


    The 28 Leopards were now directly encountering the advancing Prosen Armored Troops.@@novelbin@@


    In the Prosens’ radios, there was jubtion:


    "Hit! A T34 is burning!”"The new anti-tank gun can prate the inferior armor of a T34 at a distance of 2000 meters!”


    "The damage effect doesn’t seem as good as the 88 gun. Some tanks stopped without burning, but who cares, pration is all that matters!”


    Of course, there was also some dissonance:


    "Damn it! What the hell is with these Antean new ‘turtle shells’? Why can’t our new tank guns prate them?”


    "Watch out, the gun on that ‘turtle shell’ can prate us!”


    After about five minutes ofbat, the battalionmander of the 52ndmunicated to the entire battalion via radio, “Don’t bother with that ‘turtle shell’. Before it annihtes us, destroy as many T34s as possible! One ‘turtle shell’ is not a big deal. It’s the T34s that are the real threat—they will ughter our infantry and supply troops!”


    Just then, someone shouted something in a voice filled with anger over the radio.


    It was Antenese.


    Suddenly, radiomunications within the 52nd became silent.


    The battalionmander asked, “Ferdinand, can you make out what was said?”


    The caller was the deputy officer of the 52nd Battalion, Ferdinand, of old Junker Nobility heritage. He understood a bit of Antenese and often handledmunication with the locals.


    Ferdinand’s voice was very uncertain, “If I didn’t hear wrong, it said, ‘I am General Rokossovsky, fire at me.


    The radio fell silent for two seconds, then someone shouted, “Indeed, the ‘turtle shell’ is flying a Red g!”


    "It’s Rokossovsky himself driving the tank into the attack!”


    "If we just surround and destroy it, we might directly be awarded the Diamond Double Swords Golden Oak Cross!”


    The battalionmander of the 52nd interrupted, “Wait! Stay calm! First, eliminate the enemy’s T34 tanks! Then deal with the isted ‘turtle shell’! Besides, that may not even be Rokossovsky—it might just be a cunning enemy’s trick!” ????ó?????


    The obedient Prosen Soldiers raised no objections—there were supposed to be no objections. However, this time, someone objected over the radio, “But if it really is Rokossovsky, we might be able to change the oue of the war! The situation we’re in now, passively taking hits, was all caused by Rokossovsky himself!”


    To the Prosen Soldiers, the temptation to change the current state of the battle was too great.


    Originally, they were ready to give their all in the summer campaign to again thoroughly deal with the Anteans, to taste the fruit of victory like in the past two years.


    Then the Anteansunched their attack first, putting enormous pressure on the Central Army Group all at once. Many of the troops that were supposed to participate in the summer offensive were redeployed. Following that, Rokossovsky alsounched his offensive, and the defensive line was breached within a single day, with Antean Armored Troops and Cavalry charging through.


    The key point was that the Anteans had achieved breakthroughs in previous counterattacks, but as soon as the Prosen armored forces entered the counterattack, most of the Antean offensive would disintegrate, and the front lines would quickly return to their original state.


    However, this time the armored forces’ counteroffensive was on its third day, the losses were getting bigger and bigger, and there were no signs of the front line being restored. The situation with the Central Army Group was the same; the enemy’s offensive had been going on for nearly two weeks, and conditions hadn’t improved at all.


    Although the official announcements imed that the Central Army Group was steadily achieving victories, the soldiers at the front had their own ways of getting information.


    If the situation was not good, news would leak out through various “cracks” and reach the ears of more soldiers.


    Perhaps a deputy officer said something out of turn while drowning his sorrows in alcohol, or perhaps a guard at themunicationspany’s door overheard a snippet of conversation. Bad news always seemed to find a way out.


    So, the Prosen Soldiers were anxious. Instinctively, they felt that the war shouldn’t be like this, or at least the summer part of it shouldn’t be. The winter defeats were due to the Anteans’ ally, General Winter.


    This anxiety now began to affect their battlefield judgement.


    The battalionmander of the 52nd was acutely aware of this.


    "No, follow orders! Eliminate the T34 first!”


    At this moment, a Leopard toon leader said, “If we focus on taking out the T34 first, by the time we’re done with them, we’ll be left with only a few tanks, and might not be able to deal with this tortoise shell at all!


    "Right now we’ve still got more than 20 tanks, and the enemy’s T34 can’t even prate our armor. Take out the tortoise shell first. Regardless of whether Rocossov is inside or not, that will eliminate the threat. The remaining T34s will just be moving targets!”


    The battalionmander, who had intended to emphasize obedience to orders, paused upon hearing this.


    It seemed to make sense.


    After a brief hesitation, he issued the order, “Use smoke to obscure the T34’s line of sight, surround the enemy heavy tank with the Red g, get up close, and fire at close range! We don’t need to take Rocossov alive anymore, capturing his body will suffice! Attack!”


    "Yes!”


    The radio was filled with jubtion.


    The battalionmander raised his binocrs, watching the few Leopard tanks split into two groups and start to encircle the tortoise shell flying the Red g.


    By now, the distance had closed significantly, and the battalionmander could make out the tactical number on the tortoise shell.


    It wasn’t 422. That meant it wasn’t Rocossov’s personal tank—but what if it was?


    The battalionmander himself was also seized by the desire to change the course of the battle.


    What if it really was Rocossov? The battle could turn because of this, perhaps the peace promised by the Emperor woulde, and he could go home too.


    The 52nd Armored Battalion had originally been the 15th Armored Battalion of the 11th Armored Division. Inst year’s battles, most of its tanks had been lost. After retreating to Shepetovka, only nine tanks remainedbat-ready, and many tank operators had died or were wounded. The battalion was, in fact, virtually destroyed.


    The remaining men were transferred back to the homnd. The designation of the original 15th Armored Battalion was given to a newly formed tank battalion, and the remnants of the old 15th Armored Battalion became the core of the newly formed 52nd Armored Battalion.


    The battalionmander argued hard to preserve the original emblem of the 15th Battalion.


    While the 52nd Armored Battalion was back in the homnd for re-equipment training, the battalionmander took the opportunity to visit home and discovered the city was in ruins. The Allied Nations’ long-range bombers had turned the familiar world into a waste.


    His parents had perished in the bombings, leaving only his wife and two sons, who had managed to survive by fleeing to the countryside.


    No one wished for the war to end more than the battalionmander did.


    If killing Rocossov could end the war, then let him die!


    While the battalionmander was thinking this, an exmation came over the radio, “Enemy infantry! Enemy infantry ambushing around the tortoise shell! There are… ah ah ah!”


    The battalionmander quickly refocused his attention, his binocrs soon locating the enemy infantry.


    Infantry lying in the grass stood up and fired their rocketunchers, hitting the weaker side armor of the Leopard tanks.


    The tanks immediately burst into mes, and tank operators jumped out, only to be cut down by the anti-air machine guns on top of the tortoise shell, riddled with holes like a ho’s nest.


    "There’s more infantry over here! Just how many are hiding in this grass?”


    Apanied by screams, another Leopard tank was destroyed in the binocrs’ view, Ante Infantry wielding submachine guns shooting down Prosen Tank Operators who were trying to escape their vehicles.


    At this time, the enemy’s T34s also charged forward, with infantry sitting atop them carrying rocketunchers.


    The Prosens had never seen such tactics before, the Ante Infantry resembled armored cavalry, with the T34s serving as their steel steeds.


    The rocketunchers were likences, hitting the Leopard tanks with deadly uracy.


    In their attempt to assault the tortoise shell, the Leopard tanks had exposed their vulnerable sides to these armored cavalry!


    The besieged tortoise shell appeared to be powered down; its turret still turning slowly, with a bravemander poking out his head at the top of the turret, operating the anti-air machine gun.


    Could that person be General Rocossov? It seemed unlikely, as he wasn’t wearing many medals.


    But then again, the battalionmander felt that it must be Rocossov, because under the shadow of the Red g, he seemed like the very embodiment of victory.
『Add To Library for easy reading』
Popular recommendations
The Wrong Woman The Day I Kissed An Older Man Meet My Brothers Even After Death A Ruthless Proposition Wired (Buchanan-Renard #13)