Arc of Fire

The barrage from the 152mm heavy artillery continued, and Wang Zhong also saw fireballs created by even more powerful 203mm heavy artillery.

Wang Zhong could see the enemy infantry rapidly diminishing, as highlighted figures were wiped out in swathes.

If this were a game, artillery brothers would be awarded a star for every shell they fired, and after the battle, they’d become full-star artillerymen.

Unfortunately, reality had no such mechanism.

Although the infantry attack had been halted by the artillery, the enemy’s tank troops were still maneuvering around.

Then the problem arose: the remaining three tanks were exactly blocking the main forces of the Armored Troops from the enemy!

Wang Zhong: “Fire! Cover them! And you guys, retreat quickly!”

In his urgency, he forgot that the very reason those three tanks could be destroyed by a 500kg bomb was their lack of radio communication.

Tank No. 422 fired first; Alexandria did well. The shell passed between the large sides of the three friendly tanks and struck an enemy Panzer III on the move.

The other tanks also fired sporadically, but the hit rate was worrisome. After all, there were no targets to provide range references; it all depended on the experience of each crew.

The enemy fired too, but their targets were the three tanks frantically retreating.

After the first salvo, Wang Zhong watched as friendly tanks No. 438 and No. 440 stopped moving, presumably with their tracks broken.

However, because Wang Zhong had previously organized a veteran experience-sharing meeting, the rookies in these two tanks didn’t abandon their vehicles but instead fired back in place.

Tank No. 431 continued to retreat, and at that point, its commander seemed to finally realize where the friendlies were positioned, so he ordered the driver to turn the tank around.

But whether the driver, out of nervousness, turned in the wrong direction, or the commander gave the wrong orders in confusion, the tank wound up turning its front toward the friendlies, exposing its rear to the enemy.

How could the elite of the Prosen tanks let such an opportunity pass? Wang Zhong watched as three or four shells hit the rear of Tank No. 431.

The engine of Tank No. 431 immediately died, and Wang Zhong could see the thick smoke rising from the radiator, even from such a distance!

The crew of Tank No. 431 scrambled out of the vehicle—after all, without the engine, the turret could only be hand-cranked. At this point, abandoning the tank would not be held against them.

The Prussians’ machine guns began strafing, blocking the tank operators’ route of retreat and forcing them to take cover behind the tank.

Tanks No. 438 and No. 440 were still resisting, but the second round of the enemy’s assault came, targeting the turret rings.

By this time, the attacking enemy armored group had also suffered heavy losses; out of Wang Zhong’s 21 tanks, several salvos knocked out more than a dozen enemy tanks.

But the problem was, the enemy still had dozens of tanks!

At that moment, Wang Zhong saw an original Tank No. 430 come back to life from the treeline.

Lucky fellow, this one had been stunned by the enemy’s 500kg bomb and then hammered by friendly 152mm and 203mm rounds. Now it was somehow back in action!

And it could drive! It backed out of the tank shelter and turned its head outwards to rush out.

Yes, Tank No. 430 charged along the hedge toward the side flank of the enemy’s armored group.

It broke through the hedge, and all the enemies seemed not to notice it!

Tank No. 430 thus charged to the enemy’s flank!

Wang Zhong found this maneuver all too familiar; it was exactly like his tactics when driving an M18 Hellcat in War Thunder!

Rushing to the side and sending out powerful 76mm high-explosive rounds to the German tanks one by one.

But the notorious poor visibility of the T34 came fully to light again: Tank No. 430 didn’t notice the Prosen armored cluster covering from a distance.

No sooner had it stopped than three Panzer IIIs from a distance opened fire.

However, in their haste, the Prussians did not hit their target; the armor-piercing shells hit the ground and bounced up, grazing the frontal armor of Tank No. 430.

Tank No. 430 returned fire, hitting a Panzer IV; it seemed the gunner deliberately targeted the less numerous but more valuable Panzer IVs.

More distant enemies then fired, and Tank No. 430 was hit repeatedly but still managed to fire a second shot.

Flames spurted from the hatch of a Panzer III.

Seeing this scene, Wang Zhong couldn’t stay put any longer.

He had to push his own tank forward next to the three disabled tanks, which would eliminate the obstruction of the firing line for the friendlies and bring them closer, allowing his novice tank operators to aim better and waste fewer shells.

Wang Zhong: “All units, attention, follow me forward! Beliyakov, advance!”

Tank No. 422’s exhaust belched out a large cloud of black smoke, thundering as it advanced, with the red flag on its radio antenna fluttering in the breeze.

Wang Zhong’s command vehicle burst through the treeline, galloping across the open field!

The other tanks followed suit, charging towards the friendlies trapped on the grasslands!

The commander of the Second Armored Battalion, Stauffenberg, still had his upper body out of the turret, so he was the first to see the T34 tank breaking through the treeline.

“Wildcat calling Wolf, Wildcat calling Wolf! Visual confirmation of the enemy commander’s vehicle, a specially designed T34 tank with a larger turret than the other T34s.

“A red flag is hanging on the radio antenna, I repeat, there is a red flag! The tactical number is 422, I repeat, tactical number 422, and there is a white horse insignia, I repeat, white horse insignia!”

After reporting, Stauffenberg immediately switched to the battalion command frequency: “Aim at that T34 with the red flag, tactical number 422!”

His own vehicle was the first to respond to the order, turning its tank gun toward that T34.

At that moment, an order came from division headquarters over the radio: “Remember the tactics arranged by the division commander!”

Stauffenberg: “But the enemy has only one battalion, I think we should be able to cope!”

“What are the losses?”

Stauffenberg fell silent.

Acting Division Commander: “Execute the planned order!”

“Yes. All units, you heard, execute the planned order!”

The Second Armored Battalion began to discharge smoke and turned around to retreat.

At this point, most of the Prosen tanks finally noticed Tank No. 430 on the flank.

After a barrage of concentrated fire, Tank 430 lay paralyzed on the grassland.

As Tank 422 charged past three friendly tanks paralyzed on the plains, Wang Zhong ordered, “Stop! Stop!”

After the tank jolted to a halt from braking, Wang Zhong raised his binoculars—this was just for show since the enemy’s smoke had already blocked all visibility ahead.

Using the external viewer from his elevated position, Wang Zhong saw the enemy retreating.

It wasn’t just the tank units retreating; the infantry scattered all over the ambush position were also retreating.

What does this mean?

Wang Zhong was now reminded of a classic moment from a comedy sketch by Chen Peisi and Zhu Shimao:

“But I haven’t even fired yet!”

“Hey, doesn’t this just show how accurate your shooting is?”

Wang Zhong thought to himself, I just rushed out here, preparing to position for a sniper battle with you, and you’re leaving?

I haven’t put in much effort yet, and you’re already falling?

By now the other tanks had also reached the line of Tank 422. Most of them stopped, but a few inattentive ones charged past.

You couldn’t blame them; it’s easy to get fixated on what’s ahead when the tank commander also serves as the gunner.

Wang Zhong even heard a platoon leader blowing a whistle—this was the original method of command envisaged by the headquarters of the Ante Armored Troops, but it turned out to be useless.

Having gone through the battle with Loktov, Wang Zhong had already found that whistles and semaphore were ineffective, which is why he had arranged for someone to lift the tank’s hatch as the most direct means of communication.

Hearing the whistle, Wang Zhong pressed the throat microphone: “Alright, stop blowing. Use the anti-aircraft machine gun to shoot at the backs of their heads; that’s the only way to make them realize they should stop!”

As he finished speaking, the platoon leader who had been blowing the whistle opened fire, and tracer rounds from the anti-aircraft machine gun hit the backs of the heads of the crew in the tanks that continued to push forward.

Finally, all the tanks stopped.

Through the smoke, Wang Zhong observed the enemy’s movements.

—Wait a second, isn’t this the same situation I saw in Loktov? So, is there an 88-mm gun position set up behind?

Wang Zhong took out the map, and just like in Loktov, he had carefully surveyed the entire battlefield. However, the land to the north of Orachi was too flat, making it impossible to find a spot particularly suited for placing anti-tank guns.

Or rather, the best defensive location in the area was already occupied by Wang Zhong himself.

Damn, now there’s no way to steal the enemy’s guns.

Facing off against 88-mm guns in an open field is not really how I want to hasten my death.

At this time, the Guards Regiment 31 Battalion 1 reentered the position they had just abandoned.

Wang Zhong began to consider the next defense.

At the rate the enemy was retreating, it would take some time for them to organize another offensive.

Organizing an armored assault is much more complicated than an infantry assault, and the enemy had suffered significant losses. Even the tanks that withdrew had reduced crews, which needed rearrangement.

Wang Zhong continued to examine the map—where would the enemy regroup?

The regrouping location should be very close to the highway to facilitate resupply. It should also be near a medical station, as there might be some lightly wounded requiring simple bandaging.

The hospital must be around the wells—

Using the process of elimination, Wang Zhong quickly locked in three possible locations for the enemy’s regrouping.

In fact, during the earlier reconnaissance of the terrain, he had already paid special attention to these places and had assigned each a codename.

Let’s fire a round at each location for a prize. If we’re lucky and hit the target, the enemy won’t be thinking of attacking today.

“The enemy hasn’t taken the bait!” Klose picked up the document detailing the previous battles of the White Horse General, “In Loktov, he didn’t take the bait either, and immediately bombarded the areas likely to be anti-tank positions. Tch, order the anti-aircraft artillery battalion to move out!”

The communications officer saluted and left.

Kluge turned to Stauffenberg, “How bad are our losses?”

“Heavy losses; my battalion lost thirty tanks.”

“How many can be repaired?”

Stauffenberg clicked his tongue, “Your Excellency, the acting brigade commander, if we do not occupy the battlefield, there is no way to repair those tanks abandoned on the field. The enemy now controls the front line.”

“Alright. It seems we can only wait for tonight and let the infantry try to retake the position with a night attack.”

No sooner had his voice faded when the sound of an artillery shell tearing through the air reached them.

Kluge asked, “Is it here? Are they targeting the anti-aircraft guns?”

He strode to the door of the armored command vehicle, pulled it open, and looked outside.

However, the artillery battalion was unharmed and in the process of moving.

The sound of explosions came from far away.

Kluge looked into the distance, “What are they bombing?”

Another staff officer frowned, “Judging by the direction, it’s near the field hospital… These inferiors!”

Kluge shook his head, “No, they’re bombing our logistics nodes and assembly points! Hurry up and evacuate the personnel!”

As he spoke, another shell whistled overhead, and even Kluge, with little frontline experience, could tell the impact was very close.

He immediately lunged for cover!

But the shell did not land on the command vehicle; instead, it hit a threshing floor not far away.

The Armored Battalion 2, which had retreated, had not regrouped there, but a mess truck parked there was distributing food and the extremely bitter coffee.

Kluge raised his head, only to see the large pot used for making coffee flying into the sky.

Like many other Prosen generals who had previously encountered the White Horse General, Kluge swore, “Damn it, White Horse!”