Arc of Fire

Chapter 523: Rocossov Steps on Balas Land (Supplementary update 8/81)

While the ambush battle continued, the port was also engulfed in fierce combat.

Brigadier Aromeyev established his headquarters on a water tower on the periphery of the port area, using binoculars to observe the situation within the port.

"These do not seem like the Balasians’ will to resist. When we landed, the Barlas Imperial Guards were scared off just by the anti-tank units using armor-piercing shells," Aromeyev put down his binoculars and turned to the Deputy Officer, "Have we captured any prisoners? Bring them over; I want to interrogate them."

"No, Brigadier, the enemy is exhibiting very strong combat will. Even when wounded, they continue to resist," the Deputy Officer reported.

The Military Bishop said, "Such a strong will to resist, could they be the Royal Family’s personal troops?"

Aromeyev thought for a moment and said, "Bring over a body. I have a bad premonition."

Soon, a body was brought over and laid out in front of Aromeyev.

The Brigadier crouched down and lifted the military cap from the body.

Light golden hair was exposed under the sunlight.

Aromeyev asked, "Do Balasians... have blond hair?"

The Military Bishop shook his head, "Some do, although not many, but indeed they do."

At this point, the Sergeant who brought the body spoke, "But all the Balasian soldiers we killed had blond hair. This morning, those soldiers we captured retreating from the beachhead didn’t have a single blond among them, Brigadier!"

Aromeyev looked up at the Sergeant and asked, "These ’Balasians,’ what language did they speak? Was it Prosenese?"

The Sergeant shook his head, "We don’t know."

"How can you not know!" Aromeyev scolded, "You’ve heard so much Prosenese on the battlefield, ’saise,’ ’aku-tong,’ can’t you recognize it?"

The Sergeant said, "If you’re asking if it sounded like it, it really did resemble Prosenese, but we’ve truly never heard Balasian, so we have no comparison. We don’t have anyone who understands Prosenese, so we can’t be sure if it was Prosenese. The languages of the northern nations are also quite similar to Prosenese, aren’t they?"

Aromeyev said, "You guys sure are logical, don’t worry about those things for now. Just tell me, when you were fighting them, did it not feel like you were battling Prosens?"

"Yes," the Sergeant answered promptly, "But their equipment consisted of Sten Submachine Guns and Bren light machine guns, and Maxim guns; we didn’t hear the characteristic sweeping fire of the Prosen machine guns."

The Military Bishop said to Aromeyev, "It seems we’ve encountered Prosens disguised as Balasian soldiers, no wonder the port has been so tough to take."

At that moment, the sound of rapid machine-gun fire came from the direction of the port.

Aromeyev immediately recognized it as the machine guns of the "Destroyer": "Even with the navy helping us like this, we still can’t take it down! General Rocossov trusts us a lot! Tell the troops, I don’t care if the enemy is Prosenese or Balasian, charge and engage them in hand-to-hand combat, we must take the port before General’s ships can see it!" РÃƝОBĘṤ

As the words left his mouth, the Sergeant who had delivered the body spoke, "Brigadier! The port buildings are all made of reinforced concrete; naval artillery can’t do anything to them. We need direct artillery support! Otherwise, the casualties will be enormous!"

Aromeyev said, "Don’t you have explosives? The Naval Infantry has never been a force that can’t breach without artillery! Blow them up!"

The next moment, an explosion came from the direction of the port.

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Aromeyev frowned, "That does not sound like a small caliber; is it the enemy’s or ours?"

The Military Bishop said, "It might be ours; listen, the naval artillery is still firing. If the enemy was firing at the ships, with the ’Destroyer’s’ fragile frame, they would have stopped firing long ago."

Aromeyev raised his binoculars, looking doubtfully at the port, but unfortunately, the port buildings completely blocked his view, and he could not see what was happening on the docks.

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Fifteen minutes earlier, at Moha Port’s inbound shipping channel.

Lieutenant Colonel Yusov yelled at the transport ship captain, "Don’t you see? The port buildings are all concrete, the ’Destroyer’s’ cannons can do nothing to them! The Naval Infantry needs the 100mm guns from the Whirlwind."

The captain shook his head, "No way, my sailors still need to transport supplies! After the Expeditionary Force is done with Balas, we have to transfer Allied Forces’ materials, and skilled sailors like these aren’t easy to find now. I can’t dock while the enemy still controls the port!

"This ship is precious, do you know how few ships like this there are on the Inland Sea? No, I can’t take the risk!"

Lieutenant Colonel Yusov drew his pistol and pressed it against the captain’s forehead, "I suspect you’re a Prosenese spy!"

"Go ahead and suspect!" the captain did not back down, "The biggest difference between you and me is that I know the priorities. Losing this ship and sailors to take Moha Port is definitely not worth it!"

Yusov argued, "If we can’t take Moha Port, there will be no supply line!"

"You’re exaggerating. I know the caliber of the Balasians very well; they definitely won’t be able to hold it!" the captain did not budge and even stepped forward, pressing the muzzle of the pistol against his own forehead like a stamp.

At this moment, the Military Bishop from the 225th Division’s Tank Destroyer Battalion stepped forward, grabbing Yusov’s pistol with one hand and the captain’s shoulder with the other, forcibly separating the two men and disarming the gun.

Yuosov’s eyes widened as he looked at the Bishop, "Where did that brute strength come from?"

The Bishop said, "Never mind that! I have a good idea. Captain, our tank destroyers can hit whatever they aim at within a distance of 1800 meters! Could you clear a space on the deck of your small boat and build a platform out of wood or something, so that the tank destroyer can drive on it?"

The captain turned his head to look at the Whirlwind that had been fixed on the deck, "How much does this vehicle weigh? 30 tons? We could make a platform for it, but what difference would one vehicle make?"

"We do have a difference!" Lieutenant Colonel Yusov was invigorated again, "Our 100mm gun’s high-explosive shell contains six kilograms of TNT, not even reinforced concrete can stand it! One shot over there and everyone inside will be stunned for a minute."

The captain glanced at the dock, dense with gunfire, thought for a few seconds, and finally nodded, "1800 meters! It won’t get any closer! Get your Tank Operator to work with my crew to build a platform!"

Lieutenant Colonel Yusov turned back and shouted, "Did you hear that? Hurry, hurry, build a platform! Misha, have your crew fire the gun! If you can’t hit your target, you might as well be shoveling shit!"

People on the ship scrambled to get busy, with the captain himself overseeing the work for a minute, then he said to the Boatswain, "You direct the construction of the platform and the positioning of the tank, I’m heading to the bridge to direct the ship into the harbor."

Boatswain, "Leave it to me."

After another ten minutes of hustle, a Whirlwind had finally driven onto the hastily erected platform, operated by the crew designated by Lieutenant Colonel Yusov.

The operations officer had also set up an Artillery Mirror next to the tank destroyer to observe the target data.

The observer reported loudly, "Distance to the dock is 1700 meters! Distance to the enemy-occupied dock’s administrative building is 1850 meters, we can fire!"

Lieutenant Colonel Yusov stood next to the Artillery Mirror, nervously observing the building through his binoculars.

Suddenly, the Whirlwind fired, the thick smoke and blast from the muzzle blowing away Lieutenant Colonel Yusov’s cap.

The Lieutenant Colonel didn’t care about that, his attention entirely on the building in the binoculars.

A second later, a row of windows on the first floor of the building spewed out thick smoke at the same time; clearly, the high-explosive shell had penetrated through one of the windows and exploded inside the room.

The blast wave made the walls of half the building tremble, raising a layer of dust, making it look like a protective film had suddenly been applied to the concrete surface.

The last remaining window on the second floor shattered into countless pieces, clattering down amidst a swirling cloud of dust.

"Good!" Lieutenant Colonel Yusov shouted, "Keep firing! Blast those bastards in the building to hell!"

No sooner had his voice fallen when the second shell arrived.

This time it targeted the middle of the office building, likely a stairwell, hitting the second floor directly, with smoke and dust engulfing the first and third floors.

The Maxim guns that had been firing went silent, in fact, the entire building’s gunfire stopped.

Lieutenant Colonel Yusov saw naval infantry in black uniforms and large lapels, carrying Papashas, rushing to the front of the building, tossing grenades into the windows one after another.

"Don’t hit our naval infantry by mistake, change the target! Change the target!" the Lieutenant Colonel shouted, "Rotate the hull 10 degrees left; there’s a two-story building still spewing fire!"

Soon, a soldier climbed onto the Whirlwind, yelling into the open hatch: "Turn left 10 degrees, target the two-story building!"

The Whirlwind turned ten degrees, the barrel pointed at the two-story building.

The first shell hit the external wall of the building, the explosion’s smoke quickly engulfing most of the structure.

The firing machine guns and rifles all stopped, likely leaving everyone inside stunned.

The naval infantry who had just been hiding behind a low wall on the opposite side of the building instantly jumped out, charging at the building, not wasting any time while the enemy was stunned.

Yusov was pleased, "Shift the target again, keep the hull position, look for the warehouse with the huge number 2 on it! They’re firing from the second floor of the warehouse, fire!"

The Whirlwind fired again, this time hitting the external wall of the warehouse directly, the dust raised completely stripping the enemy machine gun’s field of fire.

The naval infantry, unexpectedly provided with "smoke" cover, immediately moved out, charging into the smoke.

Yusov exclaimed, "Good! Next target!"

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Aromeyev couldn’t see the fighting at the port, but he could hear the diminishing sound of machine-gun fire with each boom of artillery.

The naval infantry also had machine guns, but they were clunky Maxim guns with wheels and shields, not very practical during an assault, and the infantry were reluctant to use them.

Thus, the reduction in machine gun sound indicated the enemy had been heavily damaged.

"Although I’m not sure who’s firing, remember to remind me to apply for the Ante Hero of Venus after this," Aromeyev told the Military Bishop.

Bishop, "Rest assured. However, I think that this hero will definitely not lack praise afterwards, even if we do not apply, someone else will."

"Doesn’t that make it all the more reason to apply? Otherwise, it would seem like the Navy and Army have unresolved issues!"

At that moment, a messenger, riding a bicycle, rushed over, shouting, "Report! With the coordination of the Whirlwind tank destroyer on the ship, we now have complete control of the second dock, the transport ships can dock!"

Aromeyev nodded to his Deputy Officer, "Fire the signal flare, let the transport ships dock!"

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