Prosen Army, Second Armored Cluster Command, August 3rd, 2330 hours.
When Acting Division Commander Kluge entered the command, Armored Cluster Commander Heinz Wilhelm von Mauch was examining a map.
Acting Division Commander Kluge stood at attention and saluted, “Your Excellency, Commander!”
“Hmm, relax a bit.” Mauch lifted his right hand as a return salute, “I had you come over in a Kubelwagen (which is the German jeep, a proper noun) to get an update on your division’s encounter today. The journey must have been tough.”
Kluge, maintaining his posture, responded, “For His Majesty the Emperor!”
“Very well,” Mauch waved his hand, “Now, tell me, what happened today? Let’s start with how Division Commander William Dietrich got seriously injured? Wasn’t he a brave general who performed excellently in the Bohemian Campaign and the Carolingian Campaign? How come he faltered in Ante?”
“Division Commander William planned on personally scouting the enemy, so he swapped clothes with a reserve position tank platoon leader and boarded the platoon leader’s vehicle to head out. Then... he was hit by 72 heavy artillery shells from the enemy’s batteries, leaving only one tank intact in that tank platoon.”
Mauch clicked his tongue, “Specifically targeting a division commander disguised for scouting?”
The Cluster Chief of Staff asked, “A spy tipped them off?”
Kluge immediately replied, “Absolutely not, the military police have already wiped out all potential hostile elements that could have leaked information in our garrison area.”
Frowning, Mauch eventually refrained from commenting on the military police’s actions and continued, “Regarding espionage, it’s unlikely for a spy to maintain contact with a division commander at the front line; espionage organizations tend to avoid such flat structures for the sake of secrecy.”
“I’m more inclined to believe there were hidden observation posts. Your headquarters might have been within the enemy’s line of sight. Even if you changed clothes, an observation post seeing to whom you salute would understand everything.”
Kluge said, “If that were the case, why not bombard the staff headquarters? It doesn’t make sense. Before the attack, all officers of platoon rank or higher from my division were gathered for a meeting. If a round of artillery had fallen at that time, my division would have been crippled.”
Mauch nodded, “You have a point. So how was this accomplished? This ‘White Horse General’ also has a feat of killing — uh, bringing about General Randolph’s sacrifice.”
“Randolph’s case is understandable,” the Cluster Chief of Staff said, “The ‘White Horse General’ drove his vehicle close to Major General Randolph’s headquarters, which was entirely due to Randolph’s own recklessness. That star general in the Carolingian Campaign also seemed to prefer leading the charge in a tank.”
Mauch said, “Ah, young Erwin, his spirited charges, after being praised by His Majesty, seem to have made the young generals fond of charging ahead.”
Mauch shook his head, “A general should grasp the overall situation. Back to what happened to you today, is there anything else to supplement regarding Division Commander William’s injury?”
Kluge hesitated, then said, “There’s also the Voodoo Ritual...”
“We’ll leave that matter to the High Command’s scientific department to research. Before you arrived, the cluster’s staff were more inclined to believe it was merely coincidental. The ‘White Horse General’ might have speculated a high-ranking individual’s presence through formation deployment or some other subtle clues.”
After speaking, Mauch paused and changed the subject, “What’s your impression of the ‘White Horse General’?”
Kluge’s face tensed, “He is a cunning and despicable fellow, yet extremely meticulous. He must have thoroughly examined the battlefield and knew where we would establish our logistical points. His artillery fire, though it was more of a lottery, did kill over forty of our experienced soldiers—they were having coffee at the time!
“What’s fortunate is that our tank operators were still checking the tanks and not having meals! Otherwise, we would’ve needlessly lost a battalion’s worth of elite tank operators!”
Mauch said, “Bombing the dining areas? This reminds me of the trench warfare days when we used to bomb each other’s latrines. Such matters become routine with habit. Does he have any other distinguishing features?”
After some thought, Kluge said, “He seemed to command his troops to dig a very strange type of shelter. Our infantry approached to inspect this shelter and were covered by enemy artillery fire before they could get a close look.
Everyone in the High Command looked up, puzzled.
Moochi demanded, “What’s happening?”
“I’ll find out right away.” A staff officer immediately left the High Command.
No sooner had he left than the telephone rang.
The Chief of Staff answered, “This is High Command. What? What? Understood, got it.”
After hanging up the phone, the Chief of Staff reported, “The troops heard the sound of airplanes passing overhead, everyone heard it, and they’re sure they’re coming toward us.”
Moochi asked, “Airplanes? At night? Didn’t the Air Force say night bombers are still experimental? How did the Ante people come up with them?”
The Chief of Staff shook his head.
Then an explosion was heard outside.
Moochi quickly went to the window, just in time to see a biplane fly over the High Command and drop something.
That something landed in the yard and exploded in the next moment.
It looked less like an aerial bomb and more like a hand grenade.
Moochi was puzzled, “What is this thing?”
The Chief of Staff also looked bewildered.
Time passed in the confusion of everyone for five minutes.
Then the phone rang again, and the Chief of Staff immediately picked up, “High Command. How many? Why didn’t the anti-aircraft guns fire? Extremely low altitude? Understood.”
After hanging up the phone again, the Chief of Staff reported, “Six biplanes observed, entering our airspace at extremely low altitude, dropping what appeared to be hand grenades, causing a total of six deaths and 11 injuries.”
Moochi fell silent for a few seconds before asking, “What’s the point of such an air raid?”
“Don’t know. The Ante people’s understanding of the art of war is different from ours,” the Chief of Staff paused before adding, “unless they do this every night from now on. This will cause significant psychological pressure on our soldiers, making them unable to have a good night’s sleep.”
Moochi asked, “Sending out old biplanes for bombing missions just to disrupt our sleep? What kind of bizarre tactic is this?”
“You can’t understand the Ante people with common sense.”
Moochi shook his head and turned back to Kluge, “Anyway, you organize the next attack tomorrow, don’t let the ‘White Horse General’ succeed again! You graduated top of your class from the Imperial Military Academy! Although you have never fought a battle.”
“Seize this opportunity! I believe this is what His Majesty the Emperor is also expecting!”
Kluge exclaimed, “I will not let His Majesty down!”