Codegease: Air and Land Warfare 1946

Page 108

……

"What do we do?! We're doomed!"

And what happened where the attack aircraft flew? Compared to the high spirits of the Soviet soldiers, the KMFs, lined up in a long, blue-and-purple formation, were dealt a heavy blow. They were heading along the road to provide flank cover for Stolko when, before the enemy tanks and infantry even arrived, formation after formation of aircraft poured cold water on them. A fatal blow! No matter what type of mech you were, what weapons you carried, or what rank or title you held, in the combined assault of machine guns, bombs, and rockets, nobody could escape!

Yes, they were just a group of soldiers advancing on orders; they had no authority to manage air-ground coordination. Now, it's uncertain whether the air force's KMF (King Defenders) and attack helicopters will even arrive; it's likely that this group of vanguard leaders is doomed.

"Move! Move! Warriors!" Leading these soldiers was a major, frantically directing nearby pilots to counter the sudden air attack. "Shoot into the air! Shoot them! Don't worry about hitting them!"

It wasn't very effective. Some planes took off hastily after being hit by a few shots, and one plane was shot down, but the number of giant steel figures burning on the ground continued to increase.

"Ah! Damn it!" In the middle of the fight, the major suddenly realized that his drive wheels had somehow locked up, and he was now unable to move at all, only able to walk – which was no different for KMF and the Leg-Breaking Killer!

At that moment, a group of four fighter jets in the sky began to slowly separate, flying in four directions along a cross centered on these vanguard units. Then, they slowly turned around, maintaining the cross's orientation in perfect unison, increased their power, and began to pounce towards the center of the cross!

"Do not!--"

The major hurriedly pulled the release mechanism. Just as the cockpit flew away with a trail of fire, his original aircraft and a large group of innocent KMFs around him were pulled in like a fishing net by the four surrounding fighters, and the flames beneath the fuselage scooped everything into the ship's cabin of the underworld.

"Cough cough... Warriors..." The aviation KMFs finally arrived late, and the fighters flew away with them, trembling. The vanguards only came to their senses after hearing the shouts of a surviving captain.

"Ahem... The major has been relieved. Now I will lead you... Listen carefully, regroup, we..."

Turning around, they saw the main force behind them, consisting of more KMFs and armored vehicles, with some shadows appearing behind them.

The captain wiped his face and was about to say something when he turned around and suddenly saw many tanks emerging from a hillside in the direction of Stolko!

"They're here! They're here!" he shouted over the radio. "Don't be afraid, warriors! Our main force is right behind us! Fight! Follow the battle plan the major gave us! Tear apart those 'Bison' attacks! Fight!"

"Long live!--"

The T-34 tanks on the other side fired the first shell of the battle, and the assault guns and KMFs carrying recoilless rifles behind them also busied themselves sending fire back towards the Soviet army. The vanguard tanks sandwiched between the two became the first victims of direct casualties.

Shells rained down like wildflowers along their path, billowing smoke and towering dust, along with swarms of pebbles hurled into the ground and splashing onto the steel armor of the charging KMFs. And the steel knights? In this desperate, life-or-death situation, they had no way to survive, not even a way to delay their demise, except to desperately fire inaccurately on the move with their machine guns and recoilless rifles!

Not all pilots can move freely in a hail of bullets. In the blink of an eye, several large KMFs have become unfortunate victims of the explosion, shattered into a trail of sparks and ashes. And these Bison T-34s, bearing the name of wildness, are too lazy to be a gentleman. Apart from two or three being hit by shells or having their tracks scraped, this green tide of steel shows no sign of stopping!

"Recoilless rifles are no joke! Sergeant!" The captain, still charging, turned back and shouted passionately at a Gloucester, "You'd better live up to your reputation as a sharpshooter!"

"Yes, sir!" The purple giant hurriedly juggled around, loaded a new magazine, and quickly resumed firing. Fortunately, the shells didn't disappoint; all four shells hit their mark, and the four T-34 tanks were instantly engulfed in smoke and fire, becoming steel fortifications on the vast plain.

"Oh no!" Just as he was about to fire the last shot, an 85mm armor-piercing round flew out of the green cannon barrel and targeted his slightly slow step, kicking the troublemaker into shattered glass shards scattered across the sky.

The captain didn't react at all. He was too lazy to care about the lives of his companions. He just let the KMF writhe and race beneath him, frantically reloading and firing, until the last scythe-like shell came flying in, ripping off the vehicle's thigh and burning it into a pile of foul-smelling electronic waste.

"Were the vanguard... wiped out...?"

The commander in the main rear formation sighed helplessly. The momentum of the bison was hardly affected by the extra few pieces of their own comrades' remains, because their advancing force already surpassed the billowing smoke. They crushed electronic component fragments on the ground, roughly kicked aside the doll remains blocking their way, letting the subsequent machine gun bullets create sparks as they rubbed against their bodies, and letting the hundred-millimeter caliber shells explode to their side as if it were child's play.

With the infantry following behind the tanks, it was even more necessary to strengthen the momentum of this attack! The D-5T tank guns roared like thunder in a clear sky, their sound unexpectedly uniform across the desolate land. Gray smoke billowed and swept across the steel armor, sending gleaming bullets to the dark targets in the distance.

Looking towards the sky, another wave of air strikes was rapidly approaching, and the retreating plague had begun to spread uncontrollably. Assault guns and infantry fighting vehicles were constantly being ignited by the overhead shells, and the steel dolls continued to be smashed to pieces by the oppressive gunpowder picks. Only the soldiers who had fled their vehicles in panic, some engulfed in flames and others with mangled limbs, were left to make their last struggle before being swallowed up by the steel torrent!

……

Having lost flank cover and surrounded on three sides, it was only a matter of time before Stolko fell to the Soviet Red Army. As the tracks of the T-34 tanks crushed the bodies of all the insolent intruders, Lieutenant Lemilia and his men, along with their comrades, stormed into the town, a town that resembled a wheat field ravaged by locusts.

Treading on the ruins and black iron cavalry that were about to be torn apart by artillery fire, the soldiers' feet, mixed with the cover of gunfire, were getting closer and closer to the center of the town. A light SU-76 self-propelled gun followed behind them, stopping from time to time to fire a shot, sending any obstacles, whether intentional or unintentional, that blocked the way of the infantry comrades to their doom.

They were almost at their target location, where there was a barn and several small buildings. It was at this moment that the lieutenant ordered the soldiers to quickly disperse to both sides of the street—the relatively intact exterior of the buildings in the town center clearly indicated that they hadn't suffered much damage from the artillery fire, which meant that here…

"Stop!" Just as he gave the order to halt the self-propelled artillery, a mechanical arm suddenly ripped open the roof of a small building that had been hollowed out at some point, and the familiar humanoid weapon emerged, raising the machine gun over its shoulder and firing at the soldiers' feet.

Of course, the SU-76 was quick-witted and nimble. Before the mannequin could change its magazine, load, aim, and fire in one smooth motion, it buried the mannequin, bricks and tiles, into the unfortunate little building with a single 76mm shell.

"Nice!...Hey, wait a minute?" The SU-76 commander seemed to have noticed something through the periscope in front of the fighting compartment—something had pushed open the barn door.

"Oh no!" Damn it, it's an enemy assault gun! It slipped out of the shadows of the barn and, under the cover of two other KMFs armed with machine guns, fired a solid shot at the SU-76!

"what!--"

Lemilia was in a room watching his comrade's self-propelled gun get engulfed in black smoke and turned into a smoky mess by a single shot. The three crew members in the fighting compartment had either been knocked unconscious by the shot and slumped out limply.

"Hopefully our reinforcements won't be too late!" The lieutenant, clutching his head, shouted to a sergeant, "Take your comrades and find a way to get close to those metal things! Once the artillery fire comes, you guys take them out!"

"Yes!--"

The lieutenant shoved the sergeant away and waited anxiously amidst the soldiers' chaotic footsteps and the blood-soaked ground. In the storm of gunfire, every minute of delay meant another squad of comrades would be killed without a trace.

After what seemed like an eternity, finally, with a mournful sound descending from the sky, the scene he had been most eagerly anticipating appeared.

The belated 120mm mortar shells rained down on the enemy stubbornly resisting near the barn, the fiery flames engulfing the unfortunate victims like blooming gardenias. One KMF was instantly decapitated by a shell, its skull pierced, dying a fatal blow in front of the barn. Another KMF, seeing the situation was dire, immediately fled, leaving only the assault gun, shrouded in gray dust, standing bewildered in place.

The artillery barrage was over, and it was time for the infantry to show their skills. Just now, the lieutenant had pushed out a sergeant, and before the sand had even completely settled, he led a group of soldiers to the black armored vehicle. They climbed up, pried open the hatch, and while another comrade fired inside, the sergeant twisted a grenade, counted two or three seconds, slammed the hatch shut, and the two ran away.

Not long after, a muffled explosion rang out, and the head of the assault gun was covered by black smoke billowing from the vehicle.

"They're finished! Comrades!" Lemilia exclaimed with joy. "Forward! Don't give them a way out! Hurrah!"

"Hurrah!—"

Chapter 108, Section 165: The Terrifying Ivan

"What are you doing! Major Taluvin! Weren't you ordered to immediately equip yourselves with flight wings and go to support air operations?!"

"I'm sorry, General! There are too many enemy planes! We're now surrounded by another group of enemy aircraft! We barely have time to break free!"

"Alright, Major, I hope you are honest and dutiful!"

The Reichstag building in Berlin was in an uproar. The Soviet army's aggressive offensive was making it difficult for the commanders to remain seated. And what about General Windsor's confident expression from before? Gone! He couldn't even utter a contemptuous "humph" now.

"What are you waiting for, General?" Duke Sassler joked. "Why don't you send in more troops and drive those 'outdated' tanks back?"

"Um...uh..." The general looked down and around, seemingly trying to ease the awkwardness, "There's no need, there's no need..."

"What? Does that mean that the mechanized formation of KMFs, assault guns, and infantry fighting vehicles that was just transmitted back in real time was being routed by those tanks and planes, and that this is just an isolated incident?"

“No…no more, Your Grace…” The general pursed his lips. “A battle…a battle shouldn’t be like this…I did underestimate the strength of those green buffaloes. I’m speaking up for the fallen soldiers…”

"Is it only starting now? Shouldn't it have been clear by midnight when the Tokyo Concession sent some initial news about that tank, including its weight and durability? Why did you insist on dwelling on it for a few more hours, and then let..."

"Enough, Your Excellency!" The general raised his hand and walked to a screen. "Let me see again how those bison inflicted such heavy casualties right in front of us... Let me see it for myself..."

The general was greeted by a series of blinding flashes of light and frantic communications records. He could only support himself by leaning on the table, his worried figure silhouetted against the backdrop of the command center.

"Ah." The Duke smiled slightly, as if he had solved some difficult problem, and began to ask another communications soldier.

"Is there a statistics report on the situation of the 4th Newfoundland Brigade, soldiers?"

"Your Excellency, they suffered heavy casualties in the last five hours of fighting. The initial artillery attacks and air raids caused devastating damage to the troops inside the city. Many companies were completely disorganized or even wiped out on the spot. In the subsequent frontal attack and flanking maneuvers of the Soviet army, no matter how hard the remaining companies fought, they could not stop their offensive. The brigade commander has also lost contact with us."

"In the end, apart from about 24 incomplete squadrons that managed to stand out with the help of the brigade adjutant, the rest disappeared in the battle. As for the other regiments and brigades that were originally planned to provide flank cover for the 4th Newfoundland Brigade, their casualties were all basically more than 20 percent of their strength."

"Excuse my intrusion, sir." The soldier turned around, looking at him with concern, "How much force must the enemy have used to tear such a large gap in the enemy's defenses..."

"Forget about that now. Immediately order the surviving members of the 4th Newfoundland Brigade command to disband on the spot and stand by in the rear. They can be used as reserves when the time comes, according to my orders."

"Yes."

The Duke shook his head helplessly, walking away slowly as he thought to himself.

"Storko is lost. If we don't stop them, something terrible will happen..."

"Soldier! Contact Major Taluvin!" The Duke suddenly turned around. "Report the situation in the air battle immediately!"

……

"Reporting to command center! I! I'm too busy to even open my mouth right now!—"

Now, the major sat in his plane in the sky, looking around at the world that had been burned to ashes.

"The enemy has sent at least a hundred fighter jets to attack us! This is much larger than the previous two days!" As he shouted, he seemed to notice something and quickly turned the control stick for a high maneuver. "If your orders are not to have us hold them off here, then you'd better send some support!"

"It'll be quick, Major. Fight on!"

Effort? Easier said than done. The major had long wanted to turn this mess around. His aircraft was struggling in a chaotic airspace, with Soviet fighters and his own KMFs entangled everywhere, no matter which way he looked—up, down, left, or right. Like juice from a blender, like the web of moths under the lamplight at night, they trailed gleaming ammunition belts or had fiery tails, scattering haphazardly across the sky.

Fighter jets and mechs were constantly being hit, turning into broken-winged geese and scattered fragments that plummeted to the earth, crashing into the even more chaotic ground and ultra-low altitude below. Here, the armed helicopters originally intended for ground support were being sliced ​​and shredded one after another by the shearing blades of the Schwaker cannons, giving the green attack aircraft an opportunity: they, laden with firepower and ammunition, broke through the ultra-low altitude defenses torn apart by the fighter jets, and even by the attack aircraft themselves, and broke through to the ground support troops still advancing behind them.

Before the tanks and KMFs could even dodge the falling broken-winged warplanes, the attack aircraft relentlessly poured buckets of scalding fuel over them. Each warhead falling from the planes formed a long, sharp plough, instantly transforming this otherwise unremarkable land into a somewhat disorderly wheat field. Blazing flames, in the name of Mother Soviet Union, erupted from the craters, mercilessly draining the lifeblood of these isolated, black weeds beneath the sky.

"What should we do, Major!" At that moment, an Air Force MF (Aircraft Militia) flew up to his aircraft and kept circling around it. "We're struggling to cope with all these enemy planes! When will reinforcements arrive?"

"Calm down, soldiers! Just do as I say, based on the experience of the 41st Army: don't form ranks in the air! Keep moving!"

"Hey..." At this moment, the major noticed that something was wrong with the little girl who had spoken. "If you're trying to hide, do you have to go to this extent? Also, is there something wrong with your landline?"

"Ahem... Major, my detector was damaged. Just now, while chasing a ground attack aircraft, I didn't notice that there was a machine gun in the back of the cockpit, that thing..."

"What? Those are half again as big as the others?" Taruven was a little surprised. After all, shouldn't defensive firepower be found on much larger transport planes?

"Forget about that! Is the map still working? Land quickly!"

"Yes!...Wow!—"

Before the words were even finished, several bullets flew over and shattered the legs of the girl's plane like cutting cardboard. As it plummeted and struggled to maintain its balance, the shadows of two planes appeared on the major's screen, proclaiming who was responsible for this.

"Follow me!" He called over a few KMFs and, braving the "colorful" fireballs in the sky, chased after the two planes. Clearly, the opponents in the cockpit had also noticed them and scattered to both sides. Another squadron of fighters swooped down directly overhead. One of the young men on the left and right of the major was instantly killed, his mechanical arm being chopped off and his only weapon smashed to pieces on the ground.

"Hey, you two go protect him during his retreat!" The major had no choice but to send the three away from the battlefield, while he picked up a machine gun and chased after a plane.

"Don't run! I'll shoot you down!"

The plane chasing them was entirely gray-white. It must have spotted the major's arrival long ago, as it began to sway from side to side, dancing in the sky like a nimble venomous snake.

"Ahem! Stop right there!"

The major could only move along with the plane, not because the Gloucester aircraft beneath him was inadequate, but because if he could actually dive headfirst onto the plane, he might already be a Knight of the Round Table—but alas, he wasn't skilled enough!

Fortunately, it seemed that holding off one enemy plane was enough. He kept a close watch on this enemy plane. The two of them, one in a goose-like shape and the other in a human-like shape, were entangled in the chaotic battle like butterflies. Damn, that word is too romantic and not suitable for this battlefield at all. I've never seen a pair of butterflies flirting with each other while using machine guns and mistaking the stench of burning for the fragrance of flowers!

The major was almost out of another magazine, and could only watch the bird dance in the sky. The red stars on the tail and rear of the plane remained unscathed, untouched by a single bullet. As for the Arabic numeral "27" sandwiched between the two stars, it seemed to inadvertently indicate how many poor wretch he was toyed with in this way.

The "Grey Pigeon" suddenly somersaulted to the side, and the major sensed something was wrong. He looked back and saw another plane closing in on him. Just as it was about to fire, he immediately pulled back on the stick and rolled, dodging the sharp razor blade, and luckily became a survivor in the wake of the plane.

Just as he was preparing to look for his next target, he heard the roar of an engine approaching. Looking over, he saw that the "Grey Pigeon" and another fighter jet were flying towards him side by side and opening fire!

"Oh my god!" He quickly raised his gun and fired, trying to dodge the bullets with a backflip-like motion.

Immediately afterwards, something seemed to shake him, and a loud cracking sound, full of metallic and electrical sparks, filled his eardrums, echoing in his cockpit along with the sound waves of the fighter jet flying away.

"Hey! Thank goodness!" Fortunately, there was no fire inside the cabin, but the display showed that the KMF was falling. Upon closer inspection, the major realized that the attack had not only severed one end of the wing but also caused serious damage to the robotic arm.

"May the gods protect me...May the emperor protect me..." The anti-gravity device on the flight wing was no longer functioning properly. Now, he had no choice but to sit steadily in his seat and nervously control the KMF to fly back to the ground—he couldn't even raise his gun to fight back. His shoulder joint was constantly heating up and sparks were flying out; it looked like it was about to fall off!

"Major Taluvin! Please respond! Please respond!" Just then, the radio crackled to life.

"Say!"

"We are here to provide rear air support. We will assist or take over your counterattack against the enemy aircraft. Is there anything we can help you with?"

"You! Hurry up... Ah!"

"Major!—"

As they were talking, it seemed that other fighter jets had their eyes on him, the one who had made the emergency landing. They quickly caught up and fired a burst of ammunition, which blew his aircraft apart.

Immediately afterwards, the sound of the wings burning and detaching flashed on the control panel, and together with Gloucester's steel body, they crashed heavily to the ground.

……

"Major! Are you alright, Major!"

I slightly opened my eyes, and saw only flickering light...

When he came to his senses, he realized that KMF hadn't been smashed to pieces. Because the height wasn't too harsh, Gloucester barely managed to save the major's life by completely sacrificing his other arm, and of course, his lower limbs, which could still be used a few times.

"Can you hear me, Major?"

"Cough cough... Tell me... I'm not dead..."

"I have now combined your forces with mine for a coordinated attack. The enemy aircraft are slowly retreating! Please retreat to the rear quickly for repairs if you can still operate your mech!"

"Okay, I understand... but there's one thing you should pay attention to..."

"What should we be careful of?..." Before the radio could ask more than a few questions, a gasp came from the other end.

"Hey! You guys! Fire now! Stop them! Take down that squadron of planes... Ah!—"

Only heart-wrenching screams remained on the radio waves as the major looked up at the sky in despair…

The Soviet aircraft, a sea of ​​green, were indeed flying away, but those were the larger attack planes. The smaller fighters were still leaping and bounding about in the newly arrived KMF air group like nimble zebras. As for the plane of the group commander, painted entirely in light red and seemingly the one who had just made contact with him, it fell from the sky like a puppet being chopped up with an axe...

"Huh? 'Grey Pigeon'?" Yes, in the fighter squadron that launched this precise cut, the major clearly saw the ghost that had almost tormented him to death just now.