Arc of Fire

July 7th, at 4:30 in the morning.

Wang Zhong was suddenly awakened by the “thunder.”

“Is it thundering?” he asked Yegorov, who was in the bed next to him, as he sat up. “Does it thunder so violently in this season?”

“It’s an artillery barrage, General,” Yegorov stood by the window, peering outside from the edge.

Wang Zhong hurried to his feet and joined Yegorov at the other side of the window.

Outside, on the plain, numerous plumes of dust had risen, forming large flowers, with new “flowers” blooming every second.

Wang Zhong: “The caliber seems quite large.”

“It’s 152 mm heavy artillery,” Yegorov said, “The enemy’s heavy artillery has come into play. At Peniye, the enemy’s curved fire support at most had 75 mm infantry guns. If they had heavy artillery then, we would not have been able to hold it at all.”

Wang Zhong nodded and then asked, “Are they clearing our ‘minefields’?”

Wang Zhong nodded again. At this moment, he switched his viewing angle to an overhead view, hoping to catch the enemy’s artillery with an external aid.

This was a common technique in the “War Game” series. Even if there was no visualization of the enemy’s artillery, you could still see the animation of the artillery shells ascending, so this method could be used to quickly locate the enemy’s artillery and counterattack with your own.

Wang Zhong wanted to give it a try. What if it worked? If they could take out the enemy heavy artillery, the fight would be much easier later on.

However, no such luck. He could only see the trajectory of artillery shells that had entered the falling process. Perhaps a math expert could deduce the firing position from this trajectory, but Wang Zhong was no math expert; he had barely passed his college calculus exams after retaking them.

Just then, the sound of a telephone rang from the neighboring command post.

Five seconds later, a duty officer came in to report, “Your Excellency General, Brother Peter heard a Do 215 in the high altitude. He is sure it is not the Do 217 carrying terrifying weaponry from yesterday.”

Wang Zhong looked at Yegorov: “Is this… waiting to observe our artillery positions?”

“Possibly, but if the enemy really makes a charge later, we will still need to fire and block the enemy’s follow-up troops,” Yegorov looked at Wang Zhong.

Wang Zhong: “Speak your mind.”

Yegorov shook his head: “No, I was going to remind you that sometimes a commander has to decide which parts to sacrifice for the overall situation, but considering the battle at Peniye, I think you don’t need any reminders.”

Wang Zhong understood. Yegorov meant that only half of the B4 should fire, so even if discovered and counterattacked, only one artillery position would be lost, trading the forces on the artillery position for the enemy’s attacking strength.

But was that really the only option?

Wang Zhong stroked his chin, listening to the rumbling artillery outside, racking his brains for countermeasures.

Then he really came up with one.

He remembered the movie “Black Hawk Down,” in which the Somali warlords burned tires to create black smoke, blocking the U.S. Air Force’s aerial reconnaissance.

Actually, with enough smoke generators, one could create a smoke screen around the artillery positions, but the Ante Army didn’t have that many Smoke Bombs.

So they might as well burn tires like the Somali fellows.

After all, indirect fire artillery does not require direct line of sight, firing according to preset data was sufficient.

Wang Zhong looked toward Yegorov.

Yegorov: “You have another idea?”

Wang Zhong: “Yes. We pile up tires on the upwind side of the city and set them on fire. The burning tires will produce a lot of black smoke, interfering with aerial reconnaissance planes’ observation.”

Yegorov was amazed: “That’s really a plan.”

Wang Zhong continued brainstorming: “Don’t we have captured Smoke Bombs? Use them at our fake artillery positions to create a smoke screen, making the enemy think those are key areas we want to protect.”

“Feasible,” Yegorov nodded repeatedly, “I’ll go issue the orders right now.”

————

Major General Randolph was enjoying breakfast in his command vehicle when someone knocked on the command vehicle door.

The major general looked up and saw that it was the chief of staff. He asked, “What is it? Any reaction from the Ante People?”

The chief of staff: “The artillery observers report a large amount of thick smoke rising from the southeast of the city, possibly a fire.”

The major general frowned: “A fire? Just like that?”

He put down his cutlery, wiped his mouth with a napkin, downed his coffee in one gulp, and then stood up.

The orderly immediately brought over his hat and baton.

The major general dressed neatly and finally took the binoculars the orderly handed him, striding out of the command vehicle.

The division’s artillery scope was set up next to the command vehicle. The major general walked directly over and patted the shoulder of the staff officer using the artillery scope.

The staff officer immediately vacated the spot, snapping to attention and saluting.

After observing for himself, Randolph said, “This smoke is a bit strange.”

Suddenly, he raised his eyebrows and asked, “Has the Air Force’s reconnaissance plane arrived? Don’t tell me we applied for it yesterday and there’s still no reconnaissance plane today?”

“It has arrived,” said the chief of staff, “and it has established radio contact with the division’s artillery. It’s observing Loktov from high altitude.”

Major General Randolph was amazed: “Could it be that the Ante People have generated this smoke specifically to block the reconnaissance plane’s vision?”

The chief of staff: “… It’s possible.”

Randolph: “Do you know who is commanding the Ante Army at the front?”

“According to the note we found in Karlinovka, it should be Aleksei Konstantinovich Rokossovsky.”

Major General Randolph frowned: “Why are the Ante’s names so long? So who is he?”

“The White Horse General,” the chief of staff said.

Major General Randolph whirled around: “The White Horse General?”

“Yes.”

Major General Randolph pursed his lips, walked away from the artillery scope, and started pacing nearby.