Arc of Gunfire
Chapter 181 The situation of the Southwest Front during the day on August 12
At 1300 hours on August 12, Agsukov, Southwestern Front Headquarters.
The Chief of Staff and the Bishop of the Front Army were sitting in the map room of the Front Army Headquarters, where the number of personnel was significantly reduced, and they watched the staff burning documents.
"In this morning's telegram, it seems that Skorobo was regarded as a traitor and his whole family was arrested." The chief of staff looked at the front army bishop, "Is there any different information from the church?"
The bishop was speechless: "There is a rumor that Skorob himself was shot to death by Rokosov - the thin Rokosov."
"Is it underground at the Tribunal headquarters?" the chief of staff asked curiously.
"No, in the Summer Palace, in front of the current Crown Princess and many senior officers of the headquarters."
The chief of staff's eyes widened: "Really? The telegram didn't say anything. Can you escape unharmed after doing such a thing?"
The bishop spread his hands: "Not only did he escape unharmed, he also had to speak on behalf of all the soldiers at the state funeral ceremony on the 18th. It seems that the Patriarch intends to establish Rokosov as a new model, and he will be the same as the Supreme Command's Generals and marshals confront each other.”
The chief of staff actually laughed: "A reasonable choice, an old nobleman, very close to the royal family, and obviously ideologically and secularly wearing the same trousers, but also able to fight. The only Achilles heel of this choice now is Rokosov's military capabilities.
“There are many officers who can command a brigade or a division well, but when they begin to command army-level forces, they will obviously hit the ceiling. When they command front-level troops, they may become mediocre.
"The military education Rokossov received is the end of commanding an army. According to the general promotion path, further promotion requires attending a military academy to study more advanced command courses.
"The current situation probably won't let him come back..."
The bishop took over: "Of course not. Even if the church wants him to return, the high command will not. The high command probably can't wait to see Rokossov make a fool of himself. It would be best to lose dozens of people like General Skorobo." Thousands of troops.”
After the words fell, the chief of staff suddenly laughed: "Don't be like this, we are not dead yet, don't count yourself as dead first."
The Bishop of the Front Army looked at the map and smiled: "Is there any difference between now and the dead? You see, we are both here discussing these things that are going to kill our heads."
The two laughed loudly, causing the staff officer burning documents next to them to look over curiously.
At this time, the communications staff officer came in and saluted: "Received a telegram from Duke Myshkin, reporting that three divisions of troops arrived at his unit's position early this morning."
The chief of staff snapped his fingers: "Okay, three more divisions, orderlies!"
His orderly appeared and stood at attention.
Chief of Staff: "There is a bottle of vodka in my office that I have treasured for a long time. There is no reason to give it to the Prosin devil. Bring it over!"
After a while, the wine arrived on the table, along with the wine glass.
The chief of staff took the wine glass from the orderly's hand, waved his hand and said: "I don't need you to serve me anymore. Just change into civilian clothes and run away. The orderly is not a soldier in the first place, and the Prosins will not treat you like a prisoner of war." "
The orderly hesitated to speak, and finally just bowed and left.
The chief of staff placed the filled wine glass in front of the front army bishop: "Here, let's do it."
The bishop picked up his glass and took a sip.
The chief of staff poured the wine and said: "If we had listened to Rokossov's suggestion..."
"Stop talking," the front commander interrupted. "It was impossible to abandon Agsukov's retreat at that time."
"I didn't say retreat. I meant, listen to his suggestion and set up defenses on the north side, dig in like he did, and wait for the enemy to attack. Maybe the situation will be more than that, and maybe we can really defend it."
The bishop sighed: "It's hard to say, we have fought against the Proscenians on various terrains these days. They can play a good exchange ratio most of the time. Even if we are the defensive side .
"This is not something that can be changed by adding a few advanced weapons. With the quality of our soldiers, if we add new weapons, we might become a wedding dress for the opponent."
Chief of Staff: "On the contrary, the naval infantry achieved quite good results."
"The naval infantry has high recruitment requirements. Most of our soldiers graduated from the tenth grade. The naval infantry basically graduated from high school, and the training time is also long. It is not comparable to us." The bishop shook his head.
Chief of Staff: "Rokosov has achieved a pretty good exchange ratio. If I can get out alive, I really want to hear his experience sharing."
The commander of the front army smiled and said: "Let's talk about it when we can go out."
He drained the vodka in the glass in one gulp and pushed the glass forward: "However, the two of us will start to break out. It will probably be a week later."
The chief of staff nodded: "It's almost the same. By then, almost all the troops who can run will have run out - or they will be defeated on the way to break out. It will be up to us to lead the last troops to break out."
At this time, the staff officer who burned the documents came over and saluted: "Sir, all the documents have been burned."
Chief of Staff: "Very good. You will be organized into the 41st Infantry Corps as planned and begin to break out."
"Yes!" The staff officer saluted, but did not leave immediately.
"What's wrong? Aren't you leaving?" asked the bishop.
Staff officer: "I...want to wish you good luck."
The chief of staff raised his wine glass: "I also wish you good luck."
The front army bishop said: "I heard that when Rokossov and Kirinenko said goodbye, they said they would see each other in Prosonia, and that they ate beef and potatoes before breaking out. Now they are both in Yebao. "
Chief of Staff: "The beef stew with potatoes is probably not available now, but we can say see you in Prosonia!"
He turned to the staff who were reluctant to leave and said: "See you in Prosonia!"
The staff looked greatly moved and shouted: "See you Prosenia!"
The bishop raised his glass: "See you in Prosonia!"
Then, the two most senior officers of the front army watched the staff leave.
"Without the order from His Majesty the Tsar, these young people could have been allowed to follow the plane." said the chief of staff. "Now in order to show that they did not run away from the battlefield, we can only let them rush out with the troops."
Bishop of the Front Army: "Fortunately, His Royal Highness the Crown Prince fought hard to the end. At least now we don't have to worry about the morale of the troops."
Chief of Staff: "Although morale cannot make up for the technical and tactical gap. I don't know how long it will take to recover Agsukov."
"It will probably take a long time," said the bishop.
————
"Rise up, great country, and fight to the death!"
In the music room on the second floor of "Ante Modern Music" magazine, Marusin, the magazine's dedicated male singer, sang loudly.
"We must eliminate the Prosen forces and eliminate all evil bandits!
"Let the noblest anger,
"Rolling like a wave!"
The band improvised by the magazine played a passionate melody. The melody was sad, but it contained anger, and it had a sacred feeling like a hymn.
Just listening to this song, you can see thousands of Ant men rushing to the battlefield without hesitation.
Malusin took the lyrics. In fact, it had only been half an hour since he had read the lyrics, and even less time had listened to the music, but he could already sing it relatively perfectly.
This is not only because of his excellent professional skills, but also because this song resonates with him.
As Marusin sang, he felt the anger pouring out of his heart.
Although he is not on the front line, he seems to be on the front line.
Let the noblest anger,
Roll like a wave!
to wage a people's war,
Holy war!
The rhythm of this chorus is completely different from the main melody. It speeds up a lot, as if a group of cannons are firing rapidly.
After singing the song, Marusin excitedly asked the editor-in-chief Oshanen: "Do you really want me to sing this? I just need to find a place with a lot of people and leave my name after singing."
Editor-in-Chief Oshanen: "You're not happy? No, you will be happy. There will be a selection meeting for the music to be used for state funerals and public memorials later, so just go up and sing, with the accompaniment of our small band. The song itself is enough. Excellent, even us amateurs can appreciate its greatness! ”
At this time there was a knock on the door.
"Come in!"
As soon as Oshanin finished speaking, the door of the music room opened, and Vladimir Bradsky, a special consultant of "Ante Modern Music" magazine and a professor of the music department of Yeburg University, walked in.
"What kind of music was that just now?" The professor shouted without regard for dignity, "Who wrote it?"
Oshanin asked in surprise: "Did you hear that?"
"A large group of people have gathered downstairs, all attracted by the music. What kind of music is that? A new tune from the church? After all, it smells like hymns."
Oshanin: "No, Alexey Konstantinovich Rokosov wrote the music."
The professor frowned: "Is it him? Well, wait a minute, it seems that the main melody is indeed the same as the melody that the band leader joked about in the Musicians Club yesterday."
Oshanin frowned: "The melody that was laughed at?"
"Yes, yesterday Rokosov scolded the orchestra leader and then hummed a melody, but his skills were so bad that the orchestra leader returned to the club angrily and told us who were playing bridge that he also hummed melody.
"But I just listened to it once, so it may not be accurate. Please show me the score."
Oshanin immediately took out the original sheet of music that he had just asked everyone to copy and handed it to Professor Bradsky.
The professor frowned when he saw the score: "Is this... written by Rokosov?"
"No, I also find it strange. The general is in Yeburg, but the postmark on this letter shows that it was sent from Shostka just this morning."
"Shostka?" The professor frowned, "What a coincidence."
"What's wrong?" Oshanin asked.
"It's nothing." The professor shook his head. "You guys hurry up and rehearse. I think this song should be included in the selection meeting later. The whole country should hear this song on Memorial Day. It will greatly boost our morale."
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