Codegease: Air and Land Warfare 1946

Page 131

This is a small town nestled on the slope of a small hill. The southern land has been ravaged beyond recognition by the shell craters of Soviet tanks and artillery. The puppets in the town are calculating their own countdown to death.

A captain sat in his Gloucestershire, guarding the main road leading up the town. Warriors on both sides were using the terrain and buildings to keep the Soviet troops out of the town, while behind the town, KMFs and tanks were slowly making their way out.

This crossroads must be held, and the troops on both sides must fight with all their might. If the Soviet army breaks through the open ground on the outskirts of the town on the flank and catches up with the retreat, it will also be a death sentence for the mission.

Want to annoy the enemy? The best way is to harden yourself. The captain hid his plane in a hollowed-out building without a roof and used the cracks in the walls to return fire at the Soviet infantry advancing towards him. Their light weapons were not very effective against the walls around them.

The powerful attack came quickly—the captain had anticipated it, but it was clearly too fast for him to bear.

"Ok?"

Through the rooftop, he seemed to see planes whizzing overhead, figures he'd never seen before. Amidst the relentless infantry fire and the ominous roar of engines, he felt as if the earth around him had been thrown into a meat grinder, shredded to pieces by the fiery onslaught. Human bodies? Mechanical arms? Or the wheels of tanks? What could escape? All were reduced to mere scraps in a mashup of bricks and rubble, in the flashing shadows of Mustang and Thunder fighters, amidst the continuous explosions and the fleeting glimpses of Mustang and Thunder fighters.

While he was panicking and changing the magazine for the machine gun on his phone, he suddenly felt that something was off about the street ahead—an enemy soldier was on the side of the road, waving something behind him.

A thick cannon barrel slowly emerged from the intersection, accompanied by the trembling of its engine and the rolling of its tracks. Slowly, before the KMF's eyes and beside the Soviet soldiers, this terrifying war machine appeared on the road of the small town.

The captain was stunned—he knew he couldn't escape, and he knew he was about to be buried along with this messy house…

……

On the Soviet soldiers' number register, this monster was named ISU-152 assault gun.

A deafening roar of a giant bear followed the exploding shell, sending a huge, muddy spark to the captain's bunker. The building's exterior walls, like collapsed bookshelves or shattered wafers, completely buried the mechanical doll, already torn to pieces by the blast wave.

Just now, after these monsters drove into their firing positions, those 152mm shells flew through the air above the town's streets, just like the scene just now. In the brutal hammering, all the Soviet enemies were destroyed and their traces erased by these heavy fists.

Meanwhile, those who had just escaped the town were now surrounded by despair...

The last line of defense formed by their companions had shattered into pieces, and the green steel monsters were about to pounce again. But in their desperate escape, they didn't notice that the vultures with two engines on their heads were already ready.

With the shadow of a five-pointed white star and the shriek of bombs, the seeds of death were sown from the sky. The dark bomb bodies, along with those poor creatures, were reduced to ashes in the towering walls of fire that rose from the ground.

Chapter 142, Section 205: The Wind Comes from the Baltic Sea

Long marches on foot for extended periods require rest.

"The little boat is light and fast, light and fast?~ I wanted to send you the address?~ But this place is no longer on the map?~ Well... we can finally take a break, comrades."

Ekaterina and Ilya were also in this group of Soviet soldiers. They had now arrived at a field airfield that was about to be abandoned, which they used as a resting place and a possible new defensive line.

I heard from my comrades that the Red Army soldiers south of Berlin are helping to relieve the pressure on them? I've even heard that the Americans bombed Berlin thoroughly again with their planes? I don't know how widely these things are spread, but they certainly haven't seen those blue-and-white stars above their heads—but thinking about it, that's unlikely. If the Americans were flying over from Munich, they would have to pass over Berlin, which wouldn't be safe, would it?

Never mind, at least for now, the enemy artillery fire behind us has become sparser and slower, while the "flying tanks" Il-2 passing overhead are much more frequent, no longer as busy as before.

Looking at the few comrades with unusual attire walking over there, you realize that you are no longer so fearless on this retreat route.

"Hehehe! Don't get so excited, I'm telling you!" Ilya stood up and headed over there, which was unusual. Catherine almost slipped and fell as she hurriedly stood up.

Who are these distinguished guests? They wear black hats with a red star, and on the left sleeve of their black military uniforms, there is a black disc with a yellow anchor in the middle. Inside their collars, one can also see that familiar and eye-catching short-sleeved shirt—blue and white stripes.

“Oh! Comrades!” Ilya reached out to greet her comrades, who were called naval infantrymen. “How did you end up so far from the sea?”

"Because we can't make our ships grow tracks and wheels to go ashore and beat up the fascists, haha! Otherwise we could carry our ship cannons here to defend ourselves!"

"Oh my! It's been so long! I've missed you so much!" Ekaterina followed, giving each of them a high-five. "So, may I say this: with you here, we have a few more guns to fire back on during our retreat?"

"Haha, relax, comrade." The comrades in sailor shirts couldn't help but laugh, each touching their rifles and PPSh-45s. "We brought more than just guns, you know what I mean? Ah, you don't seem to be a pilot? Then you can't see them yet, oh no, I mean, 'them'!"

……

Where was General Kuznetsov, the commander-in-chief of the retreating army, at this time?

He moved his command post to a farmhouse just over two kilometers from the coastline early on—it was quite far from the Soviet army's retreat front, so why did he seem so "cowardly"?

Not far to his east was Svinoujczyček, which, like Szczecin, was one of the crossing points needed for his troops to retreat to Poland. Forty or fifty kilometers south of it, across the Szczecin Lagoon, lay the city after which the lake was named. The Soviet soldiers crossed this formidable chasm via the Pias Canal, an artificial passage connecting the lagoon to the Baltic Sea.

With victory seemingly assured on the retreat route, General Kuznetsov was quite pleased, which allowed him to watch his troops advance with peace of mind, unlike the front lines where his homeland had collapsed four years prior.

Here, there are things that bring him comfort, but also things that evoke mixed feelings.

On the northern sea, he saw some enormous ships—now you know how the naval infantry got here? It was the Baltic Fleet, and they had set off early as planned.

The only difference is that these warship men now have a different mission. A little over two weeks ago, their mission was to prepare for emergency combat and escort a transport ship to the German coast. Now, however, the situation in the Soviet-occupied zone has deteriorated rapidly, and after the cargo is unloaded, they have become part of the cover for the retreat.

Now arriving are two destroyers and a cruiser—the general recognizes the latter, the Maxim Gorky. It had appeared and fought in Leningrad, Vyborg, and Petrozavodsk, smashing the heads of the Nazi pigs with its light but powerful 180mm and 100mm naval guns.

……

But looking at the warships of his motherland, the general couldn't feel happy.

Because in the nearby Pias Canal, there was a somewhat desolate scene that made one sigh with sadness.

There was a long warship, its hull already submerged in the water, its deck appearing and disappearing in the waves. The superstructure had long been unrecognizable due to the blows from the sky and its own past explosions, its exterior worn and weathered by the sea breeze and dampness.

To be fair, this warship was even shorter than the Gorky in the distance, but the two triple gun turrets on the deck were something that made the Gorky tremble – these 280mm main guns were crammed into this 180-meter hull.

If its Nazi flag were still intact, it would be recognizable as a German Deutschland-class armored cruiser, specifically the lead ship of the class, the HMS Deutschland, later renamed HMS Lützow. More than seven months earlier, Royal Air Force Lancaster bombers had utterly stunned this cornered beast of the Third Reich with their bombs.

It was too big, especially for the Soviet Union. The Red Navy didn't have any ships to tow it. They had hoped that with the end of the Great Patriotic War, they could properly digest the battlefield, including this warship. But now, what could they do with it except hastily leave with its wheels and guns? The comrades couldn't even tow it to another place, lest it block the already narrow canal.

Continue to smash it? Absolutely not. Without a dock, it can't sail far; without cannonballs, it's just a punching bag.

……

And now, it's not just the Deutschland that's suffering from displacement; even the ship in Szczecin is in the same predicament.

About 30 kilometers to the northwest of here, an old battleship ran aground after stepping on a mine. It was called Schleisen and was one of the Deutschland-class pre-dreadnoughts built by the Germans before World War I. It was completely empty of crew and ammunition.

This was certainly not what the Russians were most interested in. One of their "big prizes" was in a dock near Szczeskov, where an aircraft carrier was moored—an aircraft carrier that had been damaged by the Nazis but was still largely intact—the Zeppelin, according to the Germans.

This is definitely not a burden; it will benefit the motherland no matter what. But the comrades have been wondering if the Americans and British will interfere with this ship. What kind of unfavorable conditions will they offer the motherland on this ship? We have to think about this because, unfortunately, unless we work overtime to repair it, it is impossible to bring this aircraft carrier back to the country by towing.

……

This blow was too painful. The two warships equipped with cannons could neither be dismantled nor used as artillery platforms, and the warship that I most wanted to savor was now gone.

General Kuznetsov was suddenly filled with emotion—four years ago, Nazi Germany's warplanes used almost every means at their disposal, including Stuka dive bombing and mines scattered across the waves, trying every possible way to remove the Baltic Fleet from the Soviet Union's organization, along with many more ships, along with the soldiers and civilians on board, turning them all into underwater reefs.

Too many ships have disappeared into the deep ocean, too many warships have been crippled in the motherland's naval ports in subsequent bombings, and the Baltic Fleet can hardly be seen anymore. Now, they are doing everything they can to protect this coastline.

Looking at the German warships sinking before our eyes, and then thinking about the steel bodies of our motherland riddled with holes a few years ago, why does history repeat itself so often?

"Cheer up, comrades." The general turned and walked back in front of everyone. "Things are much more optimistic now, so let's not give those scum from Berlin any chance, right? As for the warships... we can't count on anyone anymore. I just hope the comrades in the air don't slack off..."

Chapter 143, Section 206: Captain! Your squadron's delivery!

What places on the battlefield are bustling with activity? Everywhere on the front lines is incredibly busy, you idiot!

Oh no, I meant the rear.

Aren't the supply lines busy? Aren't the troop command centers busy? Even the cooks are so busy they're about to get heatstroke!

So, where is this busy rear area, and where is the bloodshed?

Well, besides the medical station, that's probably all—a cutting board for cooking? No, no, no, how could there be fresh, bloody meat to eat in the army?

……

"Move aside! Whose box is this?!"

At a camp not far from the gate, where a Britannian flagpole was flying, a stretcher carrying a wounded soldier was brought in. Two soldiers carried it at each end, and a girl with long black hair ran alongside it as they rushed into the first aid room.

"Angelina, are you alright? Don't worry, you'll be fine soon."

Guided by the doctors and nurses, she carried the blonde girl with a long ponytail on the stretcher to a folding bed.

"We were resting at our base when we were attacked by enemy planes..."

“I can tell,” the doctor said, using tweezers to remove rubble and shrapnel from Angelie’s leg. “There have been more wounded soldiers brought in by the air raids these past few days than I’ve thrown away any needles…”

……

Once outside, that familiar figure was waiting there.

"Ypper, how is Angelie?!"

"Ah, it's alright, Mr. Griffin, they're handling it."

What Ypel was holding was drawing the captain's attention—Angelina always had the habit of carrying a pistol or knife, even now when she was in civilian clothes, concealing it under her skirt. And now, the leather holster containing the dagger was stained with black sand and the girl's blood, turning Ypel's hands red.

“Oh... Captain, don't worry.” Ypel seemed to remember something and quickly hid the thing behind her back. “I asked the doctor, hehe…”

As they were talking, the two heard a commotion on the ground. Lilizia, who had run over, leaned against the wall and shrank back down.

"What's wrong with you?" The two of them went over and found that the white-haired girl was in a strange mental state.

"What's wrong? Is it cold because winter's here? Ypel, go get her something to put on her."

“Captain…” Ypel ran away, and the white-haired girl stared straight at the captain, her lips trembling.

"What's going on? Tell me."

“Captain, I…” Lilizia looked at Griffin as he crouched down, shrinking even more, “I’m starting to lose control of myself.”

"Can't control it?"

"I'm not kidding, things have gotten so bad..." The girl's voice trailed off. "These past few days I haven't dared to sleep in bed, and even joining the fight hasn't calmed me down. Why are there planes flying overhead every day, just right next to us... Why are there so many more? Bombs are being dropped from the sky, and I feel like I can't handle all this..."

"Hey, haven't we always done it this way? Don't be like this..."

“You know what, sir? Every time I drive the KMF now, I feel like I'm just a hair's breadth away from death. It feels like someone is constantly injecting me with stimulants…”

"Huh? Hahahahahaha!—"

"Why...why are you laughing, Captain?"

“You’ve really grown up, hahaha!” As she spoke, Ypel took a blanket from somewhere and draped it over the white-haired girl.

"Do you only now realize that this battlefield requires such frantic focus to survive? Ha! Let me put it bluntly, if you don't even have this awareness, then the first one to fall in our squad might be you, the most talented one. Do you understand what I mean? Remember, when you come here, don't slack off."

“Oh, of course, you have to learn to relax too.” Ypel helped to wrap the blanket tighter around you. “Look, you’re still the same. You’re still unwilling to talk about things until you’re almost bursting at the seams before you open up to us. Come on, smile.”

"Hmm..." Lilizia finally curled the corners of her mouth.

……

"Excuse me, are you Captain Griffin Zark?"

As they were talking, two girls who were about the same age as Ypel and the others suddenly came over.

"Hey! Yes! It's me, hehe!" The captain glanced at their uniforms and smiled smugly. "May I ask what brings you two beautiful ladies from the Knights of the Order here?"

"According to orders from above, has the captain finished writing the test summary report for the Vincent-class KMF? And what weapons do you want to equip your aircraft with?"

"Ah, very well used, very well! I'll find the report at the barracks later. As for weapons, try to get one gun and one MVS sword. Oh, by the way, the gun should be powerful. The old crappy machine gun can't even take down the side of a tank, haha."

"Alright then. And where is Warrant Officer Lütjens from your squadron?"

“Ah, it’s me!” Lilizia stepped forward.

“Here’s a notification for you.” The girl handed over a carefully wrapped envelope. “You’ve been given the operating rights to a new Vincent in Area 11. If you have time in the meantime, you can take this document with you. It’s your boarding pass. Oh, of course, just to be on the safe side, based on your own situation and the special testing arrangements made by the higher-ups, you can’t come to Area 45 during the adaptation period.”

"Huh? Really?" Lilizia's eyes lit up. "Vincent? Mine?"

"Ah."

"Captain, I..."

"Hurry up and take the form, you idiot!"

"Well then, see you later, Captain Griffin."

"Okay, later... um? Later?"

“Oh, I didn’t mention that earlier. Because the Knights’ casualty rate is a bit high right now, we’re considering reorganizing the squadrons. If nothing unexpected happens, the two of us might be assigned to the captain’s unit.”

"Holy crap?" Griffin immediately chuckled. "That's quite a surprise, damn it! So that means..."

"So you're a family from now on?" Ypel jumped up happily, continuing to hug the white-haired girl. "Haha, Lily, we'll have a new sparring partner from now on. We'll get stronger and stronger, won't we? Haha!"

"Hmm... but can I leave tonight?"