Cannon Fire Arc-Chapter 719 - 57 Hatred

Chapter 719: Chapter 57 Hatred

July 20, 0800 hours, in the village of Karinka, Corps Command of the First Cavalry Army Group.

At the hitching posts in front of Headquarters, there were high-headed horses fastened tightly.

Children from the village were sitting on the wall of the Headquarters’ courtyard, asking Misha, the Coachman who was tending to the horses, “Misha! Why are there so many horses?”

“We are the Cavalry Army Group, we’re meant to have a lot of horses,” Misha replied. “Today is the day when officers above battalion level have meetings; we’re about to attack.”

The child was delighted, “Are we going to kill the Prosens?”

“Yes, we are going to kill the Prosens again!”

“Are you going too?” the child asked again.

Misha felt uneasy: “I’m just fifteen years old; they only let me be a hired hand. Even this job, I had to beg the Military Chaplain for it. I told him my family was blown up by the Prosens, leaving me alone, asking if I could go to the front line to see up close how they die.

“The Priest replied, ‘Nonsense, your mother is helping wash clothes with the laundry unit; I saw her yesterday. If you really want to go to the front, you can take care of horses in the Cavalry Troops. Brush the horses every day, clear out the dung. It’s a tough job, but if you’re willing, we’ll let you go.’”

Child: “So you came?”

“Yes, I tell you, just yesterday the Guard Corps Commander taught me how to use a saber. I asked him if we could capture a Prosen for me to chop at, but he said no, that we must treat prisoners humanely.”

The child frowned, “Why? When the Prosens occupied our village two years ago, they killed all who surrendered. Why should we treat prisoners humanely?”

Misha shrugged, “I don’t know either, maybe you should ask the Military Chaplain.”

Just as he finished speaking, officers from the meeting came out of the wooden building of Headquarters, looking very pleased.

The child boldly asked, “Hey! What’s the good news?”

The officers all looked toward the wall.

Someone joked, “What’s this, are you a Prosen spy? Be careful or the Judge will have you arrested!”

The child was not afraid at all: “That’s not possible, a few days ago the Judge gave me candy because I helped them find all the booby traps the Prosens left behind!”

“Oh, a little hero then!”

At that moment, General Kiriyenko stepped out of Headquarters, “What’s the fuss about?”

“General, our little hero here is asking if there’s any good news,” they said.

“Good news?” Kiriyenko adjusted his Cossack cavalry cloak. “Of course, there is good news. In six hours, we’ll strike Orachi as the vanguard of the entire Front Army!”

“Orachi?” The child’s eyes widened. “Our village’s Ivan came from there.”

Kiriyenko: “A lot of people came from there two years ago, right?”

“No, just this year,” said the child.

Kiriyenko’s eyes widened at this, and not just him, so many officers in the yard stopped what they were doing and stared at the child sitting on the wall.

The child became a bit cowed, raising their voice: “I’m not lying! Ivan only came from Orachi this year! He said so himself, seemed like he was scared that the yellow dogs in the village at the time would hear.”

The Prosens had issued the Antean security forces they organized with yellow uniforms. The residents left in the Occupied Area called them yellow dogs.

Kiriyenko said seriously, “Take us to this Ivan, and you’ll get this exchange ticket as a reward.”

Exchange tickets were newly introduced this year. With the expectation that a vast amount of territory would be liberated this year, the Antean Ministry of Finance specially printed this type of voucher which could be exchanged for food and daily necessities at military depots and Church distribution centers.

The child’s eyes lit up at the sight of the exchange ticket, and they slid off the wall immediately, passing through a bunch of cavalry officers to get to Kiriyenko, snatching the ticket, “That’s great, I’m going to exchange it for candy!”

Kiriyenko: “That won’t do, the amount of candy you could get with this ticket could cause trouble if you ate it all. So lead us to Ivan now.”

“This way!” the child exclaimed and started running.

————

Ivan, who had come from Orachi, was splitting wood in the courtyard, and upon hearing the noise outside, he paused, straightening his back, and wiped sweat from his brows with a puzzled look over the low wall.

The low wall was only chest-high for an adult, allowing a view of the large group of Cavalry Army Officers approaching the courtyard from the road outside.

The person leading them seemed to be a child, who could only be seen waving over the low wall: “Over here, over here! This is the courtyard!”

The leading officer had four stars on his shoulder, likely an Admiral, and when he raised his head, his gaze met with Ivan’s.

Admiral: “Fellow countryman! You came from Orachi?”

Ivan’s expression darkened, and he lowered his head, ready to resume chopping wood.

Admiral: “We’re about to attack toward Orachi. We hope you can provide us with some intelligence! For example, how many Prosen troops are stationed in the city, what’s the makeup of the population, is there any guerrilla organization—”

“There’s nothing left,” Ivan interrupted the officer, “Nothing at all, Orachi is now an empty city, no Prosens, no civilians, and definitely no guerrillas.”

“What?” The Admiral looked shocked.

Ivan placed the axe into the stump, looked up to the sky, and sighed deeply: “It happened in February, at the end of the month. The Prosens suddenly surrounded the city, set up machine guns on the perimeter and then, using Flamethrower Tanks, started fires from the upwind direction.

“We were going to organize fire-fighting, but then we found that all the wells in the city had been preemptively sealed with cement by the Prosens. The sewers were blocked off. There was nowhere to get water in the entire city.”

Admiral: “Why would they do that?”

“I don’t know; my basement just happened to have a secret tunnel leading out of the city. I gathered as many people nearby as I could and attempted to escape underground. But the enemy’s encirclement was double-layered, and my tunnel exit was between the two layers.

“The Prosens sprayed bullets at women and the elderly. I hid in the tunnel, not daring to make a sound. Eventually, the Prosens, hesitant to search the tunnel, sealed the exit with cement and left. I relied on the air inside the tunnel and stayed there until the great fire died down before I crawled out of the exit on the other side of the city.

“The entire city had turned into a ghost town, with charred bodies everywhere. Not even carrion birds would visit that city because there was no flesh left to eat.”

Admiral: “Would you be willing to repeat these words to the Church’s propaganda department?”

Ivan looked at the Admiral for a few seconds before slowly nodding, “I can. I no longer—have nightmares.”

The Admiral turned to the other officers, “Remember, when you capture a Prosen Officer, interrogate them about why they massacred in Orachi. This is crucial! We need an answer, or we cannot guarantee that we will restrain ourselves after taking Prosen cities! Say this to the Prosen officers!”

“Yes,” the officers responded in unison.

The Admiral looked at Ivan again, “Is there anything else you can tell us?”

“Nothing more, just a few small rivers between here and Orachi. Even during high water periods, they’re the kind you can ford on horseback. When I ran here in February, I didn’t see the Prosens build any fortifications, and there weren’t many garrisons in the villages along the way.” As he spoke, Ivan took out a cigarette case and put a cigarette to his lips.

The Admiral pulled out a lighter, and with a flip of the lid, a flame leapt out.

Ivan leaned over to light his cigarette and took a drag before complimenting, “Nice lighter.”

“One of the supplies sent by the Federation, you can get one for an exchange ticket.”

“That’s pricey,” Ivan replied.

The Admiral smiled, saluted, and turned to leave when Ivan suddenly said, “There’s a guerrilla liaison station in Torleka Village. I don’t know if it’s still there, but if you need a guide, you can check it out.”

“Understood,” the Admiral waved his hand and walked away with firm steps.

Ivan smoked his cigarette, watching the officers depart.

He was almost done with his cigarette when he noticed a child peeking out from the entrance of the courtyard.

Ivan: “Did you bring the General here?”

“Hmm, he gave me an exchange ticket.” The child asked curiously, “Are you a guerrilla fighter? If you’re not a guerrilla, how do you know the location of the liaison station?”

Ivan: “I once was. But in February, I lost my nerve. I used to think that if I were caught, I could withstand torture, and die bravely without causing any harm to the organization.

“But after the massacre in February, I was scared; I know that if I get caught now, without interrogation, I’d spill everything I know.

“So I ran for my life.”

Ivan looked at the child: “Don’t tell anyone.”

The child: “You’re a deserter from the guerrillas!”

Ivan: “Better a deserter than a traitor who gets comrades killed by giving information to the enemy! Besides, to them, I’m already dead in Orachi, a martyr. That is good, very good.”

“Is Ivan a pseudonym?” the child asked again.

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Ivan placed fresh logs on a stump, straightened them, and split them with an axe.

“It’s my real name now,” Ivan said.

—

July 20th, 1200 hours.

Kiriyenko rode his “old buddy” up a slope next to the highway.

His troops were marching in four columns on the main road, advancing forward.

Kiriyenko surveyed the troops, lifted his right hand, and shouted, “To Davarish, to Plowsonia!”

The cavalrymen responded in unison, “To Plowsonia!”

As the voices died down, the sound of engines could be heard overhead.

Kiriyenko looked up to see eight Pe-2 bombers flying low.

Unlike the IL Series attack aircraft, Pe-2 bombers usually didn’t fly low; their presence above the cavalry at this altitude was likely meant to boost morale.

And indeed, it had an impressive effect.

The cavalrymen looked up, some even waving their hats at the aircraft.

Kiriyenko muttered, “Ever since General Rokossovsky was able to command the Air Force, these kinds of stunts have increased!”

Chief of Staff of the Army Group: “I quite like it. During the first year, the spectacles of Prosen planes attacking together were eye-opening. Now we can do the same.”

Kiriyenko nodded, “Who wouldn’t like it? It’s exactly because we like it that General Rokossovsky pulls these stunts.”

As he finished speaking, a messenger, holding a small flag, ran up the hill, “Report, special supply convoy from Front Army Headquarters has arrived.”

Kiriyenko: “Understood, let them rest for now. Once we’ve captured the next predetermined supply village, they can set off.”

“Yes,” the messenger with the flag ran down the hill again.

Chief of Staff of the Army Group: “I just thought, why don’t we get a Red Flag too? I heard the Guard Heavy Breakthrough Tank Group has one, claiming it was given by an old local farmer. We can say the locals gave us one too.”

Kiriyenko’s eyes widened: “Can we do that? A Red Flag… I kind of want one, but let’s complete our mission first. After achieving a decisive victory in the summer campaign, General Rokossovsky won’t mind us getting a Red Flag.”