Cannon Fire Arc

Vasily looked at the scant pile of metal on the jeep and couldn’t help but hold his forehead, “This little stuff is hardly enough to cause the enemy any real trouble.”

Filippov said, “After all, the fake minefield we created is quite large. If the enemy’s pathway isn’t where we placed these things, then it would have been for nothing.”

Vasily looked around.

The open fields near Loktov were scattered with numerous civilian houses, mostly barns and cattle sheds, with few actual homes.

Even if there were homes, the locals had long since fled to the city, leaving behind very little metal.

Touching his neck, Vasily muttered, “Now what do we do…”

Filippov slapped his thigh, “I’ve got it! The supply depot sent us pickled cucumber cans thinking they were shells. The jars are made of glass, sure, but the lids are metal!”

Vasily looked surprised, “Eh? That’s something I should have thought of, how come you came up with it this time? Ah, I get it!”

He gave Filippov a half-smiling, half-mocking look, “You’ve been picking up bad habits from me!”

Filippov replied, “Do you think you, being that ‘bad influence,’ should be saying that?”

Vasily laughed, “Let’s not worry about that, your idea is great, let’s go! A jeep probably won’t fit all that, we’ll need a truck to transport the can lids!”

Then the two of them, along with the rather taciturn Mikhail, jumped into a vehicle and sped away.

The scrap metal in the truck bed clattered on without cessation.

When they took to the main road heading toward Loktov, they suddenly saw people dressed in Civil Defense uniforms laying mines.

Vasily hit the brakes, stopping before the mines, and shouted, “Who authorized you to lay mines?”

The weary sapper from the Civil Defense replied, “Commander Alexander Alexandrovich. Hurry up and pass by, the mines are not armed yet.”

“Damn it!” Vasily stormed out of the vehicle, fuming with rage as he approached, grabbed the sapper by the collar, and hoisted him up, “Don’t you know that General Rocossov is out there reconnoitering the terrain? Are you trying to assassinate the General?”

Only then did the sapper notice the Imperial Guard’s cloak and hear “the General’s” name; the anger on his face evaporated instantly, “This… It was the Commander’s order to lay the mines! We had no idea the General had gone out to reconnoiter!”

After saying this, he turned to his subordinates and shouted, “Quick, call the Commander over! Alright, stop digging, cease work!”

A moment later, Commander Alexander Alexandrovich came running up, “What’s happening? Why the stoppage?”

Before the sapper could reply, Vasily interjected sharply, “General Rocossov took a squad for reconnaissance up front, he’s at Karlinovka! Are you trying to blow up the General by laying mines here?”

The Commander was shocked, “I had no idea! The General’s out reconnoitering? Nobody notified me! There was also no report from the bunkers on either side of the road about seeing the General!”

Vasily stated, “In any case, the General is out doing reconnaissance, and you’re not to lay any mines on the road until he returns!”

The Commander glanced at the opened crates of landmines laid out on the road, “It’s not great to just leave the mines here. They could get strafed by enemy aircraft. We’ll have to remove them back to the bunkers…”

Vasily proposed, “Here’s what we’ll do: give the mines to us. We’re setting up a fake minefield on the General’s orders. To make this fake minefield convincing, we’ll need to bury some real mines. These few crates of yours are just the ticket!

“If you plant them on the main road, an enemy tank rolling over one would quickly reveal the whole road is mined, and they’d simply use explosive devices to clear it.

“Give them to us, and we can mix the real with the fake, delaying the enemy even longer!”

At this point Filippov interjected, “Hold on, our minefield signs are written in Prosenian. What if the locals can’t understand them and walk into the minefield?”

Vasily replied, “That’s easy enough to fix, just add a line in Ante language!”

He continued, looking at the Civil Defense Commander, “What do you say?”

The Commander stroked his chin, “The crate near the bunkers, we can’t give that to you. We still need to block off the roads near the bunkers when the General returns.

“But you can take the rest.”

Then, turning to the sappers, the Commander ordered, “Start with laying the mines in the fields. Post someone by the road to stop the General’s vehicle when it appears, and inform them that we’re laying mines on both sides of the road, and to pass through with the convoy!”

Vasily nodded in approval, “That’s more like it. Filippov, grab the mines and let’s go! And pick up the can lids.”

The Commander looked puzzled, “Can lids?”

But the Imperial Guard’s jeep was already driving away.

—–

In Karlinovka village.

At the post office counter on the first floor, Dmitry adjusted the frequency knob to the frequency written in pencil on the manual’s title page, and indeed, he heard the call sign.

Standing by his side, Wang Zhong couldn’t help but ask, “What are they saying?”

“Shh!” Dmitry raised his index finger to his lips, signaling silence, then cleared his throat and spoke a few rapid sentences into the receiver.

The other side instantly responded with similar rapid utterances.

Prosenian gave the impression of arguing, similar to the so-called “efficient German” Dmitry had seen in some short videos before the crossing.

After the other side finished talking, Dmitry replied with a few sentences, then put down the receiver and said to Wang Zhong, “The enemy says the planes are being loaded with bombs and refueling now. They can depart in an hour and will arrive in two hours.”

Immediately, young men started cursing, “Damn it! Knew it was a fake!”

“Lucky we have the General!”

Wang Zhong paid no attention to his subordinates’ flattery and confirmed, “So an hour to load the bombs, and two hours to arrive, right?”

“Right.”

Wang Zhong declared, “Flight time, one hour!”

With that, he rushed over to the map—this was the Guardian Army’s listening post, naturally equipped with a map because they needed to record the enemy planes’ daily routes to provide intercept guidance for their forces.