Cannon Fire Arc-Chapter 722 - 60: The Embarrassed Prosen Army

Chapter 722: Chapter 60: The Embarrassed Prosen Army

Andreas and Kosolek’s suffering had not yet ended.

To be precise, the suffering of the Prosen Army had not ended.

As the anti-aircraft artillery followed the troops’ progression, the Antean Cavalry merely watched from a distance, since the mobility of the anti-aircraft vehicles couldn’t keep up with the cavalry, and to shoot beyond normal range was too wasteful of ammunition and had low lethality.

When the anti-aircraft vehicle reached its predetermined position to set up defense, the cavalry began to circle the defensive area, waiting for the infantry to leave.

There was nothing Andreas’s unit could do but wait for the cavalry to get hungry and go back for meals before they could secretly start moving.

Fortunately, the Antean cavalry hadn’t bothered them at night, probably for fear of something happening to the horses, like being trampled.

Thus, the Prosen Soldiers dragged their exhausted bodies through the night.

As the dawn broke with a whitening sky, a small squad of Antean cavalry appeared. They did not launch an attack, but just watched the Prosens from a distance.

Andreas noticed this small group of cavalry and pointed them out to Kosolek.

Kosolek said, “It could be a cavalry officer observing us, waiting for his troops to catch up. We’ve got weapons too; such a small cavalry unit can’t do anything to us.”

Andreas looked around, “Just by following us like this, they’ve got us all on edge.”

Kosolek glanced around, “Everyone’s just tired.”

He suddenly raised his voice, “Cheer up! Such few cavalry wouldn’t dare to attack us! We still have weapons, bullets, and just our machine guns could kill half of them!”

The Master Sergeant’s voice made many lift their heads and really brace their weapons in spirit.

Andreas suddenly realized that the new recruit he had helped before was no longer there; all he could see were veterans marked as exempted soldiers.

It seemed that most of the new recruits had already “fallen out” during this grueling march.

Master Sergeant Kosolek said, “Alright, let’s move on! After such a long trek, there should be a village ahead. Once we reach the village, we won’t have to fear the cavalry!”

Cavalry was not suited for combat in villages.

Andreas faintly felt the troop’s pace quicken a bit.

Thirty minutes later, the village appeared.

The pursuing cavalry stopped in their tracks upon seeing the village, with the Red Horse Knight standing on a small rise beside the road, gazing toward the village.

At the entrance to the village, a two-story building mounted with machine guns met their eyes, the Master Sergeant commanding the machine guns holding a pair of binoculars, and staring back at the Red Knight.

Kosolek suddenly said, “They’re all non-commissioned officers; most of the junior officers have been sacrificed.”

Prosen high-ranking officers rarely died in battle, as they believed their duties were within Headquarters and didn’t often go to the front lines.

But Prosen junior officers still led from the front, so after brutal battles, it was normal for a large number of non-commissioned officers to remain to command the rank and file.

Licking his lips, Andreas said, “I hope there’s water in the village.”

“Don’t worry, there will be. Maybe we’ll even get some hot soup.”

Five minutes later, Andreas and Kosolek arrived at the entrance to the village.

Kosolek shouted to the Master Sergeant beside the machine gun, “Is there any hot soup?”

“No!” the Master Sergeant shook his head. “We wanted to make a fire for cooking, but the locals ran off with all the firewood and such; we have nothing to start a fire with. Plus, you need meat and vegetables for soup, right? All we have are biscuits!”

Kosolek asked, “Didn’t you slaughter any horses or mules?”

The Master Sergeant pointed at a pile of cavalry corpses in front of the machine gun position, “There are horses there. Would you dare to eat that?”

Andreas glanced at the pile of corpses and noticed the horses’ and humans’ bodies were completely intertwined, the vivid red indistinguishable as horse blood or human blood.

Indeed, swallowing such “meat” would require some courage.

Kosolek waved his hand dismissively, “Never mind, is there water?”

“Yes, there is. Last night some locals tried to throw things into the well under cover of darkness but were caught by the Constitutional Guards. So, the well water is still drinkable. Hurry and drink, who knows when it might get poisoned.”

Kosolek nodded and made a gesture to Andreas, and the two of them followed the troops into the village.

After just a few steps, they saw several locals hanging from the trees by the roadside, each with a sign detailing the reason for their execution.

“For poisoning the well.”

“For mixing laxatives into our food.”

“For throwing stones at Prosen Soldiers.”

…

Andreas, focusing on the one executed for throwing stones, said to Kosolek, “Do we have to hang a child just for throwing a stone?”

Kosolek replied, “That’s how the Constitutional Guards are.”

“No,” answered three infantrymen smoking by the tree, “we hung him, not the Constitutional Guards.”

Then the three of them burst into laughter.

Andreas took a good look at them: all very young, in brand new uniforms without a single mud spot, obviously greenhorns who had just arrived at the front line.

He couldn’t help but speak out, “We shouldn’t hang a child, even if he threw stones at us!”

The young private’s laughter came to an abrupt halt, and they awkwardly tugged at their clothing hems, “Sorry, we… But when we hanged the kid, the Quartermaster was laughing his head off, right?”

Andreas wanted to interrogate, but Kosolek grabbed his shoulder, “Alright, eating and rehydrating is more important, then you’ll need some rest; there’s still a long way to go to the Dibo River!”

Andreas glared at the three recruits and followed Kosolek’s steps, quickly arriving at the central square of the village—every Ante Village has such a square, with the most conspicuous building next to it usually being a church.

But now only ruins remained of the church, and several skeletons still hung from the bell tower.

A crowd of grimy-faced Prosen Soldiers had already gathered at the place where compressed biscuits and water were being distributed.

Andreas filled his water bottle and received his share of compressed biscuits, and just like that, he ate the biscuits with water.

Several flares suddenly shot up into the sky.

The soldiers around the distribution point didn’t know what had happened, but the veterans getting their supplies reacted immediately, scattering to find cover.

The sound of engines roared from the sky.

Machine guns began to fire, but the sound seemed feeble against the airplane engines, and the density of the gunfire was clearly insufficient.

The Pe-2 bomber howled past, dropping a bomb straight onto a table piled with compressed biscuit tins, plunging through the thick tabletop and shattering the stone slabs beneath.

The bomb’s rear timing mechanism kept ticking noisily.

The new private distributing the goods stared at the bomb with eyes wide in panic. A Sergeant rushed over, pinning the private to the ground.

Almost simultaneously, the ticking of the timer stopped, and the bomb exploded violently, light and smoke from the gunpowder instantly engulfing the Sergeant and the private sprawled on the ground.

Someone was shouting, “Quartermaster!”

It seemed that this Sergeant was the Quartermaster who had laughed at the hanging of the young boy.

Andreas was stunned by the blast and passed out, coming to his senses after a whole five seconds, with a severe ringing in his ears drowning out all other sounds.

But as a veteran, he was accustomed to such ringing; he didn’t wait for it to subside before checking his surroundings.

The table laden with compressed biscuits had vanished, and the tins were now scattered across much of the village square.

The water barrels had fallen over, and water covered the ground, even forming puddles.

Many soldiers, regathering their strength after the bombardment, were lying next to the puddles, scooping water into their mouths with their hands.

Only when the ringing in his ears stopped did Andreas remember Kosolek and shouted, “Kosolek!”

“Here, still not dead,” Kosolek’s voice immediately came from behind him.

Andreas turned and saw Kosolek crouched against a wall, cleaning sand off a machine gun.

“You really can keep calm,” Andreas said.

This 𝓬ontent is taken from freeweɓnovel.cѳm.

“When the Cavalry comes for the assault, we’re going to rely on this old fellow to fight them off,” said the old Machine Gunner.

Before Andreas could reply, someone nearby exclaimed, “The planes are coming back! Take cover!”

No sooner had he finished speaking than the previously bomb-dropping Pe-2 bombers reappeared, strafing the ground with their machine guns.

This time even the new recruits reacted, and in the blink of an eye, there was not a standing person left in the square.

The strafing lasted two rounds before the Ante pilots finally flew away.

Andreas got up, “Damn it, the anti-aircraft artillery didn’t fire a single shot!”

“What anti-aircraft artillery? They’re all out on the road dealing with the Ante Cavalry,” Kosolek said.

Andreas: “How did things turn out like this.”

At that moment, someone interjected, “This is much better than last winter when we ran back from Abawahan. Weren’t you guys in the Abawahan campaign last year?”

Since the Prosen Army lost the Abawahan campaign, no corresponding commemorative medals were issued.

Kosolek: “Last year we were clashing with Rocossov’s troops in Yeisk, then we were sent to rest, and ever since rejoining the front line, we’ve been defending the Suhayaweili River before ending up here.”

The passing junior officer shook his head, “Then you’re really lucky. Only a third of our unit from the Abawahan campaign made it back, including me. Last year’s retreat was unbearable; at least this year we have water to drink. Last year, we had to chew ice to get water, and many people got diarrhea because the ice water was too cold and it damaged our stomachs.”

Another new voice joined the conversation, “Ever since Rocossov began leading Ante, we’ve been in continuous retreat.”

Kosolek: “He’s not leading Ante.”

“He isn’t? I heard he’s already the ‘Shadow Emperor’ of Ante.”

Andreas: “What I heard was, ‘He slept with the Tsar.'”

“Pretty much—”

Another flare shot up.

“Another air strike, the Cavalry came and now planes, then after the planes, the Cavalry will come again!” Kosolek shut the now clean action of the machine gun, looking up at the sky.

This time the dive bombers swooping down were Ante’s squat bombers, which looked like milk bottles (actually P-47 Thunderbolts).

Bombs exploded once again in the square.

The enemy planes not only dropped bombs but also strafed as they pulled up, with Tracer Bullets falling like rain from the sky.

Andreas lay on the ground, thinking that this was truly enough.