Wang Zhong: “Thank you for the concern, Duke. Although we did request support in our telegram, we never expected to encounter the relief troops so soon.”
“We didn’t expect it either. We were planning on fighting a night battle against the enemy, but unexpectedly, they stayed away from the highway encampments all along the way. As we marched, we set up defensive positions along the roadside, and that’s how we managed to rush over here.” Skudzheski scratched his head, “Why didn’t the enemy encamp by the roadside?”
Wang Zhong, feigning innocence, said, “Indeed, why is that?”
But he quickly recalled his recent worries and added, “We still have a large number of troops lagging behind, including the common folk from Orachi who can’t move quickly. Once daylight breaks, they will be annihilated by the enemies on either side of the road.”
Skudzheski laughed, “Don’t worry, we’ll help you. As long as we rush the enemy into a dizzy state, they won’t have the chance to attack your people. We didn’t provoke the enemy earlier to meet up with you as quickly as possible, but now we can finally clean up those Prosen bastards to our heart’s content. I’ve been holding back for too long.”
After saying this, he saluted Wang Zhong, “Please head to Shepetovka as quickly as possible. We’re about to strike at the enemy and cause as much chaos in their ranks as we can.”
Wang Zhong returned the salute, “Good luck to you.”
Skudzheski: “I prefer to hear ‘Saint Andrew be with you’.”
Wang Zhong: “Saint Andrew be with you.”
Skudzheski gave Wang Zhong a grin, climbed onto his own tank, and ordered through the radio: “All units, off the road, make way for the 151st Division’s troops and the Orachi civilians, the first battalion to follow me off the road to the left, the second battalion to the right, and so on!”
“We’re about to give the enemy a heavy blow, rejoice!”
After the order was given, the first battalion of the 10th Tank Army’s BT tanks uniformly veered off the road and charged toward the enemy encampment in the distance.
The second battalion turned off the road to the right — from Wang Zhong’s perspective, to the left — and charged at the enemies there.
Wang Zhong: “Pass the order, the remaining tanks are to guide the advance, engage any enemy units that obstruct, and ensure the safety of the infantry and civilians!”
The messenger rode off on his horse, and Wang Zhong said to the driver of tank 422, “Beliyakov, leave the road, drive onto the side mud.”
The command was immediately executed, and tank 422 left the road.
The tanks following behind quickly surpassed it, and the commander who was also the gunner saluted Wang Zhong and tank 422 while passing by.
Ludmila, puzzled, asked, “Why are we stopping by the roadside?”
Wang Zhong responds, “I want to see my troops, to see what a mess my hard-earned forces are in now.”
Ludmila gently stroked Wang Zhong’s head: “Don’t blame yourself too much, you’ve fought well. We faced down at least three enemy tank divisions, held out for three days, and even managed to break out. Isn’t that enough to be proud of?” Ṝ�
Wang Zhong: “Until Prosenia falls, I have nothing to be proud of. Or rather, it is only when we achieve a decisive victory in this war that it will be time to take pride.”
Ludmila looked at Wang Zhong’s profile and said nothing.
At that moment, five T34 tanks moved past Wang Zhong, followed by a mixed convoy of trucks carrying wounded soldiers, women, and children, and marching infantry troops passing in front of Wang Zhong.
Watching the troops, Wang Zhong suddenly felt a sense of discontent.
When he arrived in Orachi, he was full of confidence, planning to hold out here for a week.
Back then, he had strong forces at his disposal, an impromptu infantry division, plus logistics and laborers that totaled twenty thousand, far exceeding the normal complement of an Ante infantry division’s eight thousand combatants.
In addition, he had so much technical weaponry at his disposal, from artillery to T34 tanks, he had everything.
Now, it had come to this: only six tanks remained of the technical weaponry, the soldiers had suffered massive casualties, and it felt like they had returned to the pre-liberation days.
Of course, he had anticipated the heavy losses when he took up positions in Orachi. What truly irked him was not being able to hold out as long as he had planned.
The enemy had been held at bay for only two days before they decisively bypassed Orachi.
Wang Zhong stood on the tank turret, watching the troops of the 151st Division pass by.
So, Wang Zhong called out to Vasily, “Son of the music professor, sing us a song!”
Upon hearing the words “Son of the music professor,” Vasily made a face as if he had swallowed a fly, but when he saw that it was Wang Zhong sitting atop Tank No. 422 speaking, he immediately changed to an expression as if he had swallowed the fly and declared it tasty.
Vasily: “Filippov! The drums!”
Filippov: “Are you sure? I’m already so tired!”
Vasily: “Major General Rocossov wants to hear music! Go on and play!”
When Wang Zhong heard this, he shouted, “War comes and goes, but only music endures forever! Filippov, it’s at times like these that we need music!”
Filippov took out his folding campaign drum and started to beat the rhythm.
Vasily led off with the same old song, “Tanya Tanyusha.”
The cheerful tune seemed to quicken the pace of the column’s march.
The two passed by Tank No. 422 as they proceeded.
By then the sun had fully risen, its light landing on the tank and on Wang Zhong’s shoulders.
Before the now distant Vasily could sing another song, a woman from the labor camp in the ranks began to sing.
“My dear ones, at the front.”
Ludmila furrowed her brow, “That’s a song from the civil war...”
More women from the labor camp joined in the chorus:
“No one is as sad as he.
“While loading cannon shells,
“He thinks of me...
“Here comes a letter, stamped with an official seal!
“It says my beloved,
“Has died on the battlefield.
“Ah, my dearest...
“Lying beside a wild bush!
“His sideburns, that golden hair,
“Tangled by the wind into a messy heap!
“His eyes, those affectionate eyes,
“Pecked into hollows by crows!”
Wang Zhong pursed his lips, the melody of the folksong was ordinary, and the lyrics were nothing but plain speech, yet the sorrow expressed within deeply gripped his heart.
Strangely enough, despite the sadness, not a single person marching along the road seemed afraid.
On the contrary, the sad singing only made their steps seem all the more resolute.
Like a surging tide of iron.