Chapter 85: Chapter 12 Where’s My Carolingian Cook?_2
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Of course, the Ant Air Force didn’t yet have the power to intercept.
Wang Zhong found a compass among the mapping tools next to him, spread the legs in proportion to the scale, then inserted the steel needle into Karlinovka and drew an arc westward with the ruling pen.
He didn’t know the specific performance of the enemy’s attack aircraft, but thanks to the game “War Thunder,” he had a rough understanding of the speeds of most World War II-era attack aircraft.
The arc represented Wang Zhong’s estimate of the enemy’s fastest possible speed, meaning the enemy airfields were definitely closer to Karlinovka than this curve.
“Damn it!” he muttered, “The enemy’s field airfields have advanced to this area. Bogdanovka will become a playground for enemy bombers. No, it probably already is.”
At that moment, Brother Peter came down from the top floor and directly said to the Guardian Army lieutenant, “We need to leave, check the vehicles.”
Wang Zhong: “Are we leaving?”
“Yes, I heard the messages you guys derived from the enemy upstairs, and I don’t want to stay here and get bombed. Also, you eliminated the enemy’s reconnaissance team, and they had communicated with their rear, I don’t want to wait here for the enemy’s vanguard.”
Before Wang Zhong could speak, the Guardian Army lieutenant interjected, “We haven’t received any orders… Shouldn’t we ask for instructions first?”
“By the time we finish asking for instructions, we’ll already be captured by the enemy. Those heathens will execute every capable monk. I don’t want to die!” the Monk said decisively.
During the days Wang Zhong was resting in Loktov, he had crammed a lot of knowledge. The Prussians didn’t believe in the Eastern Holy Church, so for them, this invasion also had overtones of holy war.
Of course, the clergy on the Prussian side had secularized, so they didn’t use the term “holy war.”
Wang Zhong: “I support Brother Peter. If the lieutenant doesn’t want to go, then Monk, you come with us.”
Brother Peter, completely misreading Wang Zhong’s plot, nodded: “That could work. But I think the lieutenant will come. After all, he doesn’t want to face the Prussian Armored Division with such meager forces.”
Lieutenant: “You’re right. I’ll go check the vehicles and fill them up with fuel now.”
At that moment, Dmitry suddenly raised his hand, signaling everyone to be silent, and turned up the volume on the walkie-talkie with a serious expression.
Prussian was coming through the speaker. Dmitry listened while consulting the communication soldier’s manual, picking out the code words one by one.
The walkie-talkie conversation lasted for about twenty seconds. Once the voice ceased, Dmitry reported, “I am certain that was the command vehicle of the 15th Armored Division of the enemy calling their reconnaissance vanguard company.
“They said the ‘apple orchard’ is about to be bombed, and the reconnaissance company should occupy the ‘apple orchard’ after the bombardment.”
Wang Zhong raised his eyebrows, reminded of the famous “AF has no fresh water” anecdote.
If the apple orchard is to be bombed and then occupied by the enemy’s reconnaissance vanguard, then it’s highly probable that it refers to Karlinovka.
Brother Peter: “It’s this place. Was the leather-clad guy you captured from this reconnaissance company?”
“No, according to his papers, he’s from the 220th Motorized Reconnaissance Battalion, part of the Prussian Air Force.” Dmitry showed everyone the first page of the seized documents.
Wang Zhong thought, wow, even the Air Force has its own motorized infantry unit, how very German.
Despite his quip, the task at hand remained unchanged: “Let’s go… Wait a second, aren’t we going to dismantle the sound array on the roof?”
By now Wang Zhong had come to regard both the sound array and Brother Peter as his own; he certainly couldn’t just leave it behind.
Brother Peter shook his head: “There’s no time, that thing is too finicky to dismantle.”
Wang Zhong looked disappointed, but he still turned around and took the lead out of the post office, only to find several Imperial Guard soldiers gathered around the woodshed, staring at two legs sticking out of a hole in the roof.
Wang Zhong: “What’s going on here?”
“Report, General! We’re discussing whether to set an IED on this man as he is, or to drag him out of the hole first and lay him on the ground. After all, this posture is just too…”
The Imperial Guard soldier struggled for a while before squeezing out an adjective: “…humorous…”
Well, isn’t it humorous? Such a large man stuck in a woodshed in such a comical posture, one would typically only expect to see this in a comedy film.
Wang Zhong: “There’s no need to place a booby trap on this soldier. Just slip a note in his pocket that reads: ‘General Aleksei Konstantinovich wishes you a pleasant occupation. I have left you twenty surprises, hope you like them.’”
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In fact, there were not that many cunningly placed mines, but claiming there were more could make the Prussians even “happier”.
Wang Zhong’s orders were swiftly executed, and soon after, the convoy, now with an additional vehicle, left Karlinovka.
Leaving the village, Wang Zhong saw the old man who had given him potatoes, along with a group of elderly people too frail to walk, standing at the entrance of the village.
He called a halt to the jeep, got out, and said to the elderly people, “We still have room in our vehicles, you should come with us. When the Prussians arrive, we’ll bombard this place with heavy artillery.”
The old man who had provided the potatoes laughed, “General, you still worry about these matters! If there are still people in the village, will your heavy artillery not shell it? Is it worth it to save us old bones if the enemy doesn’t lose anything and can attack at full strength, causing your young men to sacrifice themselves?”
Wang Zhong, “This…”
“You must shell it! Isn’t that what war is all about? If shelling us could let our sons and daughters live, then blast away, we’ve lived long enough anyway.
“I know you’re kind-hearted, General, but if we go to the rear, we’ll only consume supplies and really won’t be able to do any work.
“I have experienced war, I know how scarce food will become; it’s better to… leave it for the children, they need to be well-fed to kill the enemy.”
The other elders nodded in agreement.
Unable to come up with a response, Wang Zhong could only climb back into the vehicle and order it to start.
Looking back, he saw the elderly standing at the village entrance as if they had been abandoned in the times gone by.
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By evening, Wang Zhong had finally completed the reconnaissance of all the villages that could potentially serve as enemy encampments.
On his way back to the city, he unexpectedly found that the garrison troop had arranged for someone to lead the way at the entrance to the minefield.
Arriving at the headquarters, Wang Zhong decided to start interrogating the prisoners right away, but was stopped by Popov.
“They are Prussian soldiers, they just keep reporting their units and ranks, soldier numbers,” said Popov, “unless you use some unconventional means.”
Wang Zhong asked in confusion, “Can’t we use them?”
Popov, “After all, we are a regular army, and so are they; it wouldn’t be appropriate.”
Just as Wang Zhong was about to object, he saw people from the Tribunal arrive.
Popov, “You see, it’s better to leave this kind of thing to the professionals. Handing it over to the Tribunal is also more proper procedurally.”
Wang Zhong raised an eyebrow, realizing that it indeed seemed to be the case.
So he said, “Of course, we should do things by the book. Dear Judges, thank you for your hard work.”
The Judge nodded and moved forward to take away a prisoner with a “my fate is sealed” expression.
Popov said, “Alright, you must be hungry too. Let’s go, have some food at the mess.”
Wang Zhong was indeed hungry. He turned to everyone who had been with him on reconnaissance that day, as well as the members of the Guardian Army who had been brought back, and said, “Let’s go, time to eat. Follow me!”
Then he led a group of people to the mess.
After that, he frowned at the mess’s serving area where big pots were lined up.
They were all full of pickles.
Every pot was filled with pickles!
Wang Zhong admitted that the pickles were quite refreshing and not bad to eat, but this was too much!
At that moment, the cook lady came out and said, “That restless kid, what’s-his-name Vasily, said it was your order to remove the lids from the pickle cans. I saw all these cans opened and figured they would go bad quickly if not eaten, so I decided to cook them all up, make do with what we have!”
Facing the vast expanse of pickles, Wang Zhong yelled, “Where is my French—no, wrong, where is my Carolingian chef?”