Arc of Gunfire

In the early morning of November 23, the village of Skana was located 49 kilometers away from the center of Prosonia.

Filipov got up early, washed up, and sat at his desk to have breakfast.

At this time, he suddenly saw the landlord's daughter peeking in through the crack in the door.

Filipov picked up a pickled cucumber and shook it at the little girl: "Do you want to eat it?"

The girl immediately nodded like a chicken pecking at rice.

Filipov tore off a page from the book, wrapped some pickles and a piece of black leba, and handed them to the little girl.

The little girl immediately wolfed down the food.

Filipov asked: "How long has it been since you last had bread?"

Little girl: "It's been several days."

At this time, the little girl's grandmother pushed the door in, scolded the child a few words in Prosin, pulled her behind her, and then tremblingly apologized to Filipov: "The child is not sensible..."

Filipov: "The church hasn't come here yet. When it comes, they will give you bread, sausages and - I don't know, maybe canned fish."

"Will they?" The old lady looked confused.

"Of course."

"Aren't we an enemy country?" the old lady asked again.

Filipov: "Yes, but I heard that as early as three years ago, the secular believers among the prisoners of war established the Plosen General Church. They are now responsible for taking over the occupied areas and will establish a secular Plosin Church in the future. Mori Country.”

As soon as he finished speaking, the security guard from the regiment went upstairs and saluted Filipov: "Regimental leader Davarisi, the people from the church are here."

Filipov put down the bread in his hand: "So soon. Madam, these are all for you, let your granddaughter eat as she pleases."

After saying that, he led the people and left the room.

When we were going down the stairs, the guard who came to deliver the order said: "It's so pitiful. There are only old people and children left everywhere. I thought the child soldiers stationed here were all from the same village. But none of them went home. Their children and husbands were all here." Guard elsewhere.

"It's too much. We didn't do it at the most critical moment!"

Filipov turned back: "Look, this is what priests often say, simple emotions for class comrades, do you understand?"

Guard: "Are you still responsible for the work of a priest?"

Filipov: "Didn't I learn this from the marshal? The marshal is often responsible for ideological mobilization."

As he was talking, he left the house where he lived and came to the village square. He saw a large group of people wearing clerical uniforms, but half of them had different styles of clerical uniforms from those that Filippov was used to seeing.

The two men with the episcopal mark saw Filipov and came over together.

The bishop wearing ordinary clerical uniforms introduced: "This is Bishop Franz of the Plosen Church."

Filipov glanced at the logo on the man wearing a black clerical uniform, and read out the Proson text on the logo: "Stasi?"

Plossian: "The abbreviation of the organization, actually the full name is the Secular Sect of the St. Andrew Branch of the Plossian People. It's a bit long, so I abbreviated it.

"We all have this problem with naming things. Look at those half-track vehicles. Their full names are terrible, so everyone from scientific researchers to soldiers call them sdkfz."

Filipov: "You...were an officer from Prosen?"

"Yes, but I accept the truth of St. Andrew. To be honest, we were strongly advised to arm ourselves and let us join the battle to liberate our own capital, but your marshal said that if we ever fire on our compatriots, in the future It is difficult to gain the trust of our compatriots and refuse to use us.”

The Bishop sounded regretful.

"We could have killed these criminals who delayed Prosen with our own hands!"

Filipov: "You seem to be a bit of a convert."

Bishop: "Really? It may seem that way, but it's because I am so sincere about the truth of St. Andrew."

Filipov was about to speak when he heard someone behind him shouting: "Dad!"

When he turned around, he saw the little girl who had just taken her own bread and pickles, shouting and rushing towards a black priest.

The priest looked shocked: "Marian! Why are you here? Where is mother?"

Little girl: "My mother hid me in the carriage that came here, and then I was taken away by the conscripts! It was Grandma Flora who took me in! I had been hungry for several days, and the kind-hearted officer over there gave me bread. eat!"

The priest held back his tears and took out the chocolate from his pocket: "Here, eat the chocolate."

"Dad, are you treasonous?" the girl asked.

Priest: "No, I came back to save the lost motherland."

While eating chocolate, the girl asked: "Then will you save your mother?"

The priest was silent.

Filipov said: "As long as your mother puts down her arms, we will not shoot at women and children. At least not the Marshal's Guards."

The surrounding Guards soldiers couldn't understand Prosen, and they all looked confused.

The priest carefully picked up the girl, as if he was holding the whole world.

Just then the flash came on.

When the spotlight made an explosion, the girl was frightened and pulled her father's collar hard.

Robert Capa said in Onsa: "Don't be afraid, child. When you grow up, you will know the value of this picture."

Reporter Mike stood next to his partner and smiled: "I have already thought of a name for this photo, "Rising from the Ruins", which is the same name as the song composed by the Marshal himself for the Plosen Church!"

The Stas priest in front of Filipov obviously also understood Angsa and said in surprise: "You already know the name of the song? It has not been officially released yet. We plan to capture the central point of Prosonia, where It’s my first time singing!”

Reporter Mike smiled and said: "I am an old friend of the Marshal. I was beside the Marshal when he composed this song."

Filipov: "Is it Vasily who composed the music again based on the melody the marshal hummed?"

"yes."

At this moment, the messenger ran out of the regiment building and shouted to Filipov: "The surveillance post saw smoke! Coming from the southwest!"

Filipov looked serious: "I understand. Reporter Mike, and everyone in the church, please retreat, this place will become a battlefield!"

The Bishop of Stas shook his head: "No, this is our country, and we will fight with you. We are also well-trained soldiers, and we also have weapons to deal with lurking secret agents of the Imperial Palace and Asgard. Knights. We fight with you."

Reporter Mike: "We have never been afraid of the front line, and my partner, his famous saying is -"

Robert: “If your photo isn’t good enough, you’re not close enough!”

Filipov sighed: "Okay, then you can take care of yourselves and don't die."

After saying that, he jumped on the approaching jeep and headed to the edge of the village.

————

Because the first battalion was responsible for occupying the village, the second battalion was now defending the village, and the first battalion was resting in the village.

Filipov went directly into the headquarters of the second battalion and asked the second battalion commander: "The size of the enemy?"

Second Battalion Commander: "Looking at the smoke and dust, they are only at the level of an armored battalion. They are terrifyingly few. A single volley of divine arrows might wipe them all out."

Filipov came to the gunner's mirror and patted the observer on the shoulder.

The observer hand immediately gives way.

Filipov observed for a few seconds and was speechless: "It is true that the front of the impact is too narrow. But the smoke in the middle is too big, which is a bit strange. Has the lurking whistle returned?"

Second Battalion Commander: “Not yet.”

As soon as he finished speaking, the sound of a BMW motorcycle came from outside. Since entering the territory of Prosen, this motorcycle has become the favorite of the scouts.

Not long after the sound of the motorcycle engine disappeared, a scout wearing a Proson-style leather jacket got in: "Report! We sneaked back under the enemy's nose!"

Filipov: "Be careful, someone has already been beaten by one of our own people for wearing this leather jacket."

"yes."

Filipov: "What's going on with the relatively large smoke and dust among the enemies?"

The scout rubbed his nose: "We saw a huge tank!"

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Filipov: "Again? Can you report some useful information?"

Scout: "But it's really big! And the protection is very strong at first glance. The skirt almost covers the tracks. You can't see the road wheels unless you look carefully! And there are two thick and thin barrels on the barrel!" "

Filipov gasped: "Two barrels?"

Scout: "Yes! And the main gun is very thick. I don't think any of our armored vehicles can withstand one shot from it."

Filipov thought for a moment and picked up the phone: "Catch the artillery battery!"

Soon, the voice of the company commander of the Su76 company accompanying their regiment came from the receiver: "What's wrong? Are we finally going to shoot flatly? Look, I guarantee that the first attack will kill their guide wheels and directly destroy their mobility!" "

Filipov: "No, I want you to prepare smoke grenades. Load them when I order. We may have to capture a big guy."

"Are you asking us to do these sissy things again?" The company commander was unhappy, "Although we are classified as self-propelled artillery, we are all good at fighting tanks! There are two golden kill rings on my car! The staff at the back told me that when the war is over, this car will belong to their museum!”

Filipov: "Obey the order, comrade commander."

"Okay. Prepare a smoke grenade for each cannon."

After hanging up the phone, Filipov turned to the second battalion commander and said: "Prepare the jeep and anti-tank mines, and let your best grenadiers prepare. Later we will go up and race with that big guy, relying on smoke bombs Cover the approach and destroy their tracks!"

The scout became excited when he heard this: "I observed that tank at close range and asked me to pull one who was not afraid of death. The two of us killed it!"

Second Battalion Commander: "Don't be so angry, maybe we can kill him with a single volley of divine arrows."

Filipov continued to ask: "Is the enemy accompanied by infantry?"

Scout: "Yes, we saw twenty-four half-tracks."

Filipov: "That's a lot..."

He picked up the receiver again: "Receive the division headquarters. Hello, this is Filipov, the enemy is counterattacking us! We need short-term artillery support. It's the ground, it's the ground! Observer, coordinates!"

The observer hand immediately reported a series of coordinates.

After reciting the coordinates, Filipov continued: "Fight now. The enemy may have a grenadier regiment. It's ground, okay."

After hanging up the phone, Filipov told the people around him: "The bombardment will arrive in three minutes. Let the soldiers enter the bunkers. Maybe there will be missed shells."

Second Battalion Commander: "We have already entered the position. Anyway, the enemy's current attack does not even combine infantry and artillery. How did Prosen become like this?"

Filipov shrugged and came to the artillery mirror again, observing the smoke in the distance.

This time he saw enemy tanks.

"It's really big." He sighed, "and it's ugly. Our Rokossov-1 is much better looking than it."

Scout: "This thing is not only ugly, but also very noisy. When we ran away, the enemy didn't hear us at the first time."

Filipov said "hmm" and continued to stare at the behemoth.

At this time, the second battalion commander said: "Commander, the priest is running up!"

"What?" Filipov looked up.

The second battalion commander pointed to the window on the other side.

Filipov ran over and looked down. He saw a propaganda car with a loudspeaker driving out of the village. All the operators were those Stas members in black priest uniforms.

Filipov: "What are you doing?"

The priest who led the team looked up: "The bishop said we can try to persuade them to surrender!"

Filipov: "It's useless. We have called for artillery fire. Soon they will suffer heavy casualties-"

Before he finished speaking, there was a whistling sound in the sky. It was obviously the heavy artillery from the rear.

Filippov turned his head and saw the shells falling into the enemy's offensive formation.

It was too far away and he could only see the huge dust cloud formed by the explosion of the shells.

Filippov: "Look!"

The priest shook his head, stubbornly picked up the microphone, and shouted: "(Plosen language) Plosen warriors! You have been deceived by the bastard sitting on the throne!"

Filippov shook his head and returned to the artillery mirror to observe the effect of the artillery.

The shells fell accurately in the middle of the enemy group. Because there was no direct hit, the damage to the armored unit seemed limited, but it was certain that the accompanying infantry was in trouble.

The half-track vehicle also stopped, and the infantry on the vehicle hurriedly got off and dispersed.

But the enemy's armored units were still advancing.

Filippov: "Very good, the enemy is out of touch with the infantry. Inform the Arrow Troops to kill the accompanying small tanks first."

Scout: "Not small tanks, but Hunter tank destroyers."

Filippov: "Really? I thought it was No. 1 and No. 2... Let the Arrow Troops kill the accompanying Hunter Troops. Then we will attack the smoke."

Before he finished speaking, the first wave of Arrow Troops was launched.

It was obvious that Filippov's order had not been conveyed in time, but it was obvious that the Arrow Troops still flew towards the Hunter Troops.

The accompanying Hunter Troops were all destroyed in a short while.

Filippov picked up the phone: "Connect su76 company! Fire your smoke bombs! We are going to attack!"

A few seconds later, the huge heavy tank was surrounded by smoke.

Filippov: "Let's go! First blow up the enemy and take Venus! There are not many chances to take Venus now! Show your enthusiasm!"

A few dozen seconds later, a large number of Willys Jeeps and captured BMW motorcycles rushed out of the village, running happily on the field towards the enemy surrounded by smoke.