Codegease: Air and Land Warfare 1946

Page 124

"After saying all this, I just want to prove that the Soviet army was indeed very brave and fearless in the face of sacrifice during the offensive, but when faced with the imminent threat of annihilation of a large force, they hesitated a great deal. In other words, they were very worried about their troops being completely encircled and annihilated, even if we had some intention of encircling and annihilating them. It is impossible to have no casualties in war, but to exchange the loss of a good unit for a meaningless victory is undoubtedly a huge loss that cannot be recovered."

"Therefore, in conclusion, I suggest that if you intend to launch an attack, it would be best to make it appear as if you intend to encircle and annihilate a large Soviet force, just like the countless times we have performed since the Middle Ages, swallowing up the flanks of a phalanx and slowly digesting the enemy while sandwiched in the middle. In this way, the Soviet army is highly likely to waver when the bitter consequences of encirclement become apparent, and repeat the strategy of 'better to lose territory than men,' which would be twice as effective for us in recapturing the salient and reducing unnecessary casualties. As for whether to seek an opportunity to truly encircle and annihilate a large Soviet force, I think we should act according to our capabilities."

"Alright, Your Excellency, that's all I have to say. I hope it can help you. I don't know if this will strengthen your confidence in launching a counterattack, nor do I know if telling these words to those conservatives in detail will cause any trouble. But I hope they understand that those who are afraid of failure will surely fail. Defense is part of military strategy, but if you only write defense in military strategy without mentioning the necessity of offense, then this military strategy must have been written by a surrendered general."

"I also hope they won't label me, the author of this long treatise, as some kind of 'adventurous gambler.' The airborne assault on the Oder River was something I initially supported, and it succeeded; the attack on the distant transportation lines between North and South Berlin was also my idea, and it's now yielding results. If there really are swindlers in the world who can win twice in a row, then they probably think my battlefield analysis is just nonsense. In reality, they are the real opportunists. If they had more convincing evidence, they should have already brought you down and never let you get up again."

"Of course, Your Excellency, if the Soviet army completely surprises us and nails the war to the point of no return, then unfortunately, the disparity in combat strength between the two sides is too great, and there is no need to continue the war. Prince Schneizel has proven that we have come to the wrong opponent, and it is not entirely due to our incompetence."

Section 193, Chapter 130: The Eighth Air Force's Doorbell

Behind the German battlefield, amidst the deafening roar of artillery fire, in a small town where no shells could fall, Marshal Zhukov entered a Soviet-controlled medical station and went to the sickbed he was so concerned about.

"Comrade Koridub," he addressed the major lying in the hospital bed, "is he alright?"

"No problem, Marshal."

"That's good, it won't delay your future flights into the blue sky." The marshal nodded, seemingly lost in thought. "I'd like to know, what was your attitude towards that thing back then?"

"To be honest, I was very uneasy when it could handle twenty or thirty of our fighter jets with ease." The major shook his head. "I've done my best, and all that's left is..."

"what?"

"At the end of the aerial battle, I don't know what I detonated, and both I and the doll were injured and fell together. Then I had a good opportunity; I was almost at six o'clock behind it, and all I had to do was fire, but... even though I still had ammunition left, I couldn't press the muzzle. I don't know what happened; I couldn't even move the ailerons or the flaps during the forced landing..."

"Comrade...you weren't thinking at the time..."

“No.” Kozhedub suddenly laughed. “If it hadn’t flown away, I would have just landed the plane steadily on the doll’s belly, then slid it down to the ground like a sled, and ground it into rye flour to take back and make bran bread.”

"Hahahaha!" The marshal and the officers around him were amused. It was rare for this Soviet hero who had returned from the brink of death to still be interested in making a joke.

"But now I'd like to know, how many of us lost in that aerial ambush?" the major asked, a question that seemed somewhat difficult to broach.

"I'm very sorry, Comrade Kozhedub," said one of Zhukov's air force major generals. "Of the 17 fighter planes, only yours successfully made an emergency landing and the pilot survived."

"Hmm... Oh." The major paused for a moment, lowered his eyes, and said nothing more.

"Alright then, comrade, take good care of your injuries. We'll take our leave now."

"Yes! See you another day, Marshal Zhukov!"

……

Even after leaving the ward, the marshal's face remained tense.

"Comrade, the situation in our war is not optimistic, do you know that?"

“I understand what you mean, Marshal,” the major general replied. “You mentioned that the pressure on the Soviet ground forces stationed in Germany is increasing. But I’m sorry, the air force is also feeling increasingly overwhelmed. It’s not just a matter of the number of enemies; the Polish support for us is limited, and the depletion of supplies will inevitably lead to our resources running out when the supply lines are overburdened.”

“In that case, we certainly won’t be able to hold onto this recaptured territory, and we are destined to face another defeat, comrade.” Zhukov’s expression was very serious. “The difficulties in getting things done in Moscow are self-evident. More than that, I’d like to know, what ideas do you have?”

"Marshal, our current difficulties as an air force group are both simple and complex. Two major obstacles lie before us: our air support is already stretched thin, and our attacks on Berlin are becoming increasingly inadequate. Therefore, I don't think relying solely on ourselves is a good approach. Moreover, considering the current situation between us and the West..."

"Go on," the marshal said, staring intently at him.

"Why don't we go find the Americans? I think that's a good idea..."

……

The next day, at the Frankfurt airport on the other side of Germany, General Eisenhower met a general who had flown back and invited him into his car—the general wore a pilot's badge on his chest, and among his many medals was a blue one with five white five-pointed stars arranged in a staggered pattern.

This is the unique proof on the medallion of the United States Medal of Honor. What makes a lieutenant general worthy of wearing such an unparalleled honor?

"So, what was the result, General Doolittle?" Ike greeted the middle-aged man, who was the first to bomb the hometown of the Showa bastards and was now the commander of the Eighth Air Force, with a smile.

"I must say, until I and the Royal Air Force generals were seated, I still couldn't quite believe why the Soviet Union had come to us, General."

"How?"

"They seem to be in big trouble in Berlin now. The Soviet Air Force appears to be struggling to provide ground support for various reasons, and it is also difficult to stop these unidentified people from doing things in Berlin."

"You mean, the Soviet army might not even be able to return to its military and political headquarters, which were originally located in Berlin?"

“The probability is very high right now, sir.” Doolittle shook his head. “So this general came here to request that we launch an air raid on Berlin.”

“Go on to explain in more detail, Lieutenant General.”

"The Soviet Union's current request to us is limited to sending B-17 bomber groups to conduct large-scale bombing raids on the enemy in Berlin. Moreover, if the war situation worsens, they may need our fighter jets and light and medium bombers to strike the areas controlled by those uninvited guests. Of course, the Soviets will provide us with intelligence and guidance for all of this. At the same time, for the sake of the security of both sides, they will not allow us to attack the enemy on the front line. Therefore, we don't need to worry too much about friendly fire or causing trouble for both sides."

Doolittle looked at Ike with some unease—indeed, shouldn't such a heavy-handed request from the Russians only come during a crucial period of fighting Nazi Germany?

"Is that so? Then, what was the purpose of the Soviets inviting the British to meet?"

"Well, we have to get to this point. The Soviet Union still hasn't let down its guard against Britain, but we're just as bad as they are... cough, back to the point. As for the Royal Air Force, the Soviets specifically told them in person that they would allow their fighter jets to enter the country, but they absolutely would not allow British bomber units to fly over Soviet-occupied territory with our B-17 formations, otherwise it would be treated as an illegal intrusion."

"Then it's tough on their Lancaster. After all, the British haven't yet cleared their name of the crashed Jumbo. As for the fighter jets, do they really think that Spitfires can ride hand-in-hand with Mustangs and milk tankers across the European continent and then come back?"

"The only way out for the British is to try harder to clear up any possible misunderstandings. In fact, the Russians originally did not even allow the British to send twin-engine heavy fighters like the Mosquito and Handsome Fighter. We thought that was too strict, so we reluctantly let them off the hook."

"Okay, so you agree after all? Is there anything else you need to prepare?"

"Indeed, General, this is more beneficial than harmful to both the US and the Soviet Union right now." Doolittle paused. "The most important thing now is to regroup the pilots, and then we need to bring back the planes that were supposed to be transported back home, which are still in Europe. To be on the safe side, this will take at least a week. Also, the Soviet army mentioned to us that the enemy in Berlin seems to have almost no defenses against the western skies. It seems they know that the Soviet Union currently only has a few airfields in the north and south, and the rest of its air power comes from the east."

"This is?"

"The Soviet Union demanded that we inflict as much damage as possible on the enemy in the first air raid, whether it be psychological or physical. So our initial bombing must be all-encompassing, all-out, and all-encompassing, hitting Berlin at the same time. In other words, if the B-17s hadn't been deployed, then those Mustangs and Thunderbolts in Germany would have had to be kept on the ground until the bomber formation took to the skies, so as not to spoil the meal."

“It seems the Russians hate us to death, General.” Ike shook his head helplessly. “Not only will your air force take time, but such a large operation also requires explaining all the details to the bigwigs in the Home War Department. Everything has to wait for approval from the President and Congress, which will take another week or two before the Flying Fortresses can retract their landing gear.”

"Ha, let's hope the Russians don't get even more ruthless. According to them, they're risking lives to wait for our news. If this really leads to another world war with the Soviet Union..."

“That’s true, General, but Congress would certainly prefer that the bear bleeds enough before it’s comfortable sitting on the golden bench, wouldn’t it?”

Chapter 131, Section 194: Hmm, Fully Armed "Traitors"

Oh, let's take a look at what's all this around us?

Flashing indicator lights, a TV screen, and the static of a radio ringing in your ears—and sitting in the middle, holding a joystick on each side—it looked a bit like a video game arcade to us.

However, the screen didn't seem to be showing a game scene; it looked like a real training ground—and in the distance, there were those KMFs, either running around hurdles or shooting at targets, all busy and having a great time.

"Hey! Sergeant Davis! You're distracted!"

"Oh, sorry!" After answering the female voice coming over the radio, I still had to get back to business.

Well, lucky Mr. Davis was handpicked not long ago. He was the first person from District 45 to participate in KMF. He originally wanted to refuse and ask them to find someone else, but the decision had already been made, so he had no choice but to go.

Today, in the morning sunlight, he was ordered into the cockpit of this KMF and turned on its power. The automaton beneath him had slightly different facial features than the previous ones, its all-white body was mixed with a few blue stripes, and the word "POLICE" was painted on its forehead.

Opposite him was the person from District 11 who had patrolled with him before, Chizuru Nagayama. Hmm, I almost forgot her name. She was sitting in a more "proper" blue-purple thing, and she greeted him with that mechanical arm.

Oh, let's revisit the names of these two dolls—the one Miss Nagayama is sitting on is called Sunderland, the backbone of the Britannian Army's KMF, while Davis's is called Glasgow, a former main force that has now become standard equipment for Britannian police. Not only have their weapons and equipment been changed, but they've also been given police badges, police lights, and even their paint job has abandoned the original khaki color.

As for the reason, they simply don't want you to go to war right now. Just focus on being a police officer.

"Come on, Sergeant, listen to my orders. Do you remember what each button does that I just taught you?"

"Ok!"

"Now go to my right, take down that fully automatic pistol that KMF uses on the shelf, walk over there, and then drive back using the drive wheels."

"Yes sir!"

Although it was Davis's first time driving this thing, he managed to operate it relatively smoothly. One of the reasons was the presence of some auxiliary devices—Ms. Nagayama called it the "intelligent operating system." If we wanted the KMF to walk, we didn't have to rely on the pedals to step on it one by one. We could just press a few buttons and it would start walking on its own.

Holding the gun isn't difficult; you can just operate it manually. After returning to the starting position, follow Ms. Nagayama's instructions to make the KMF's head look left and right. When you move the neck joint to its maximum left and right sides, the waist joint will naturally activate. Once the waist is twisted to its maximum, the legs will move. Even the actions of storing the gun on the hook on your body and then taking it off are all done by the program.

Everything is pretty simple. Getting started with KMF isn't too difficult. But if you want to be like those guys in the distance who do fancy moves and leap across rooftops, I'm sorry, these systems can't help you anymore. You'll have to work hard on your own. But Davis definitely isn't interested in these things. The reason is very simple: he doesn't know Chinese Kungfu, yet he still survived the World War, right?

……

Finally, once you've mastered firing the gun, using the grappling hook to climb high walls, and so on, then today's task is considered complete.

"Alright, alright! That's enough for now, come again tomorrow!" Chizuru Nagayama yawned. "I'm going back to sleep, don't bother me unless it's important."

After changing back into their uniforms, they had to hand over a card—because each KMF was assigned to a single pilot, it was protected by a unique password for security reasons. This magnetic card was specifically used by the military to deactivate the password so that other soldiers could use it in emergencies. Davis was able to use this Glasgow aircraft, which originally belonged to someone else, thanks to it. However, in reality, many soldiers didn't choose to carry it to avoid it being easily captured and used by the enemy, since it was extremely rare for a KMF to be abandoned.

[Author's Note: This is something I added on the spot. I can't say for sure it will be in the show. Originally, I saw that each KMF in the animation had a pilot's unique password, but I thought that this system would be a waste on the battlefield at times (imagine if a tank's original crew is unable to fight but the hardware is basically intact, and the other soldiers can't use it, how deadly would that be?). So I added one.]

Davis left the court, passed an advertising board, and then suddenly someone pounced on him.

"Surprise! Motherfucker?!"

"Taylor? All of you?"

"We finished ahead of schedule too!" Philip chimed in with a grin, sipping his drink. "And sir, look who's this?"

"Hey? Garcia? You're alright?"

"Yes! I've been discharged from the hospital! They gave me a ride along the way!"

"Alright then! Let's go! We'll talk on the way back!"

……

"Boss! How does it feel to drive that thing?"

“Damn, it’s way worse than driving, let me tell you.” Davis shook his head and waved his hands. “The steering wheel, the accelerator, the brakes are all gone. I have to grip the lever and press the pedal. It’s a bumpy ride, and the worst part is…”

"What?"

"Damn it, their rule is that you have to wear a pilot's suit when flying that thing called KMF, but... this tight-fitting jumpsuit is squeezing my dick so much it's uncomfortable!"

"How inhumane! How is this any different from castration?"

"Well, I do understand why these dolls gave us so much trouble back in Berlin. These dolls are much better at climbing walls and crossing ditches than our tracked and tire-based chassis."

"You've only talked about me, what about you guys, Taylor? Aren't you going?"

“Come on, let me tell you.” Philip pushed Taylor aside. “These guys don’t teach us anything about military equipment. After all that, they just gave us a bunch of police officers’ ‘heavy equipment’.”

"Looks like they see us as prostitutes. What do they have to offer?"

"One is a revolver, which I'm not used to using as well as the M1911, it's not very satisfying; then there's a submachine gun, damn it's too small, only half the size of a 'rice jar' (TommyGun, the nickname of the Thompson submachine gun), but we can shoot it with one hand, and the key is that it's quite stable in our hand. Then there's a shield, they call it a riot shield, it's specially designed to be used with this pistol and submachine gun, you hold the shield in one hand and fire with the other, that's it."

Davis couldn't help but laugh at Philip's silly pose of holding a shield and firing a gun.

"Did they say what the shield is for?"

“It’s not for fighting, it’s for situations like encountering armed thugs or rioting crowds,” Philip said, gesturing as he spoke. “This shield is made of iron, it’s not very heavy, and it has an opening for observation. We can hold the shield in one hand in front of us and then peek out through the opening to look out and protect ourselves. Apparently, in gunfights, it’s a portable cover, and when encountering rioting crowds, everyone puts the shields together to form a square… like a medieval dog soldier…”

"Hey! These cops are something else! We can only carry one big sluice gate each, which makes us look pretty amateurish compared to them!"

“What are we amateurs for!” Taylor was annoyed. “They’re probably all Japanese in this riot! What’s the point of setting up shields? We should just shoot these sons of bitches one by one and see if they still yell! We could just turn them into putty and use them to fill leaky walls at home, fuck them!”

"Shut up, you son of a bitch!" Davis slapped him across the face right away. "Tell your mother not to treat this place like a den of Showa-era trash, what's wrong with you?"

“So, sir,” Garcia barely had a chance to reply, “looks like I’ve been missing out on quite a few interesting things lately…”

"Oh, that's too formal."

"But along the way, we did manage to make contact with Clark." Garcia took out the hidden note. "Most of it was about little stories from Area 11, and also some things they saw. It seems that the Britannian Navy is gathering in Tokyo Bay."

"Only this?"

"Not yet, you can take a look at the rest."

"Let me see... Ah, okay, it seems there's nothing more to it, just talking about how this 'Bald Eagle Gang' has become... Damn, it's a really good name."

“Let me see… We also stole some amphetamine and ephedrine today, but they’re useless for making drugs. We’re thinking about how to dispose of them.”

"Huh? Amphetamine?" Garcia's eyes suddenly lit up.

"Yes, and this alkali too."

“Let me see…” Garcia took the note and looked at it again, then suddenly looked up. “Guys, hurry up, give me a pen! And some paper!”

"Here it comes!" Taylor was bewildered by the sudden announcement, watching him scribble furiously. "What's wrong with you?"

Garcia remained silent until he finished writing a long string of English words and something resembling a chemical reaction before looking up.

"Next time we run into Clark, give him this. It'll definitely come in handy, if he wants to make medicine or something and sell it for money..."