Codegease: Air and Land Warfare 1946

Page 5

"So pathetic? Am I dreaming...?" The Doctor's confidence in KMF seemed to leak away like water from a bag, his heart sinking to the depths of despair. He closed his eyes, looked up, and saw nothing but pure white.

“Your Highness, you should still remember this pilot of mine, right?” Caronville returned to the tone he had at the beginning of the meeting. “Lieutenant Harlan Johnson, the madwoman who single-handedly faced the Crimson Lotus of the Black Knights during the Battle of Tokyo and dragged her all the way to Lancelot. If I remember correctly, you personally awarded him the medal afterward, didn’t you?”

"What are you trying to say, Lieutenant Colonel?"

"Although Harlan doesn't have a title and can sometimes be impulsive and do reckless things, I dare say that apart from the Knights of the Round Table, few pilots can surpass him in piloting skills. Even skilled pilots might not be able to handle these tanks with ease. I think we must do something."

"Let's not talk about the pilot yet," Duke Sassler said anxiously. "After this footage, what happened to that tank?"

"After Lieutenant Sunderland collided with the tank, the tank's tracks were torn off and it couldn't move, but it could still fire. The enemy across the building kept suppressing our infantry with guns and cannons. Fortunately, they held out until Colonel Cary came to reinforce them. The colonel's vehicle destroyed the tank with a recoilless rifle. Seeing that things were going badly, the enemy infantry fled through the sewers below the building, and our men gave chase. But unexpectedly, they detonated explosives, blocking the sewers, and we didn't capture a single survivor..."

"You did a pretty good job, Kari." In the conference room, Maren was filled with a sense of satisfaction.

“There is another fortunate thing,” Caronville continued to report. “Lieutenant Harlan has been rescued and is now out of danger. He will be able to return to the battlefield in a while. If Your Highness has any questions for him, please wait a few days.”

Schneizel did not reply immediately. He leaned back in his chair and looked at the chattering crowd in the conference room.

After taking a few deep breaths, he spoke.

"So, Lieutenant Colonel, what needs do you have to make to us now?"

“Alright, then I’ll go through them one by one.” Caronville paused. “First, we need more water purifiers and condensing machines. Right now, water supply is the only thing that’s hard to guarantee. As long as this is met, His Highness can order the main force to come at any time.”

"Secondly, I later had my men take all sorts of weapons and fire at the destroyed green tank. We found that unless the mech's machine guns fired from the top, they couldn't penetrate the tank's armor at all. While UL rounds were perfectly fine for hitting the sides and rear at normal range, to penetrate the tank from the front, we had to get very close and attack its hull. The turret was even more sturdy; we couldn't get past it on either side except for the back."

"What about rocket launchers and recoilless rifles, Lieutenant Colonel? Have they been tested?"

"Well, these two are alright, we can easily handle them..."

"So, Lieutenant Colonel, what you mean is?"

"Since we haven't had many UL rounds, I request that we be issued more recoilless rifles for our mechs to increase their proportion in our mech equipment. These things are still quite lethal to these iron turtles..."

“Then, the third point,” the lieutenant colonel continued, “could you send us a dozen or so helicopters? Even if their machine guns can’t take down these iron turtles, they can at least help us observe the battlefield. After all, I don’t want my soldiers to be unable to see the killing intent that’s right up close, right?”

“It’s not a big problem…” Dr. Flock, who had been confused for a long time, finally spoke again. “I will help you solve it. These things are no big deal.”

"See, Lieutenant Colonel?" Schneizel smiled at Caronville, whose face had been full of worry just moments before. "Submit your requests to us promptly, and we will do our best to meet them. Stabilize the front lines over there, and when the time is right, the main force will strike."

In a flash, the screen in front of Caronville turned charcoal black.

He looked around the room, now shrouded in shadow, and sighed…

"Yes...your highness..."

……

"Colonel Kari, move the supplies from the southern supply depot into this building and clear some space to prepare for receiving the new helicopter. Also, have your men set up my tent?"

……

It was at this time, more than 80 kilometers east of Berlin, away from this camp.

Here flows one of the most beautiful rivers in Europe… the Oder. Like a lazy caterpillar, it lies sprawled across this land, slowly wriggling, its surface shimmering in the dappled sunlight, transforming into a string of golden pearls that adorn this land.

However, all of this was like a string of jewels, discarded in a pile of coal ash...

Everything along the banks of the Oder River seemed to spit on the brilliance of the pearl. Coke-blackened wooden houses, chaotic broken walls, cratered farmland, and a few dust-covered tractors and trucks—as far as the eye could see, there was devastation.

Soldiers who pass through here will never forget the smoke, fire, warplanes, and steel that adorned the Oder River just a few months ago, as well as the tens of thousands of corpses that lie buried here.

No one would think it's an honor for the Oder River to flow through such a hell on earth.

But she paid no heed to this hellish experience, continuing her undulating journey forward, casting these nightmares behind. At a bend in the road, she smoothly took Varta's hand, and together they ran north towards the Baltic Sea. Behind them lay the dilapidated town of Kostrzyn, its footprints etched across the Oder River…

Everywhere were dilapidated houses, and compared to the lands ravaged by war, there was little sign of life here. Apart from the birds soaring through the sky, there were only zombie-like refugees, trudging along the rubble-strewn paths, making noises like rats dancing among the ruins.

But Kostchen was still bustling, not with the flow of people and vehicles, but with those steel bison that had previously appeared on the streets of Berlin, clad in bright green paint and carrying slender cannons, rolling their rumbling road wheels, forming a long snake as they marched in formation along the messy road.

Several trucks filled with soldiers began to move away from the chain of bison and head towards the open space next to the town. A Willys Jeep with a large red star painted on its hood emerged from the dust and sped towards a flagpole not far away, flying a red flag adorned with stars and a hammer and sickle.

Below the flagpole were several barracks built of logs and buried underground.

The jeep stopped in front of the soldiers, and the officer in the passenger seat jumped out. After checking the gleaming Tokarev TT-33 pistol in his holster, he calmly walked towards the largest barracks.

Inside the barracks, an old officer leaned against a table in the center of the room, covered with a large map, rubbing a tattered pencil in his hand. Above him, the electric light still flickered intermittently.

The silence in the barracks was broken by a crisp military salute and a report.

"Anton Vasilyev, the company commander of the guard company, reporting!"

The officer slumped on the table seemed unmoved, his gaze fixed intently on the map. The light shone on the epaulets on his shoulders, shimmering with golden starlight, as if answering the report in place of the officer wearing them.

After a brief silence, the officer, still slumped over the table, stretched out an arm and gestured for the lieutenant to come over.

"Comrade Colonel?" Anton walked over slowly, his heart filled with unease.

"Hoo~" A suppressed exhale finally escaped from the colonel's mouth, which had been silent for a long time.

"Comrade Colonel?" Anton asked again uneasily, "Is there any new fighting?"

The colonel did not answer immediately, but just stared out of the barracks.

Following his gaze, Anton turned his head to look outside, at the place where smoke was rising again in the distance.

Berlin……

"What do you think, Lieutenant?" The colonel's voice was filled with deep worry.

After saying that, he picked up several telegrams from the table and placed them in front of the lieutenant. Anton picked them up and read them carefully.

"The Berlin garrison was attacked by unidentified forces? This..."

"Quite sudden, isn't it?" the colonel raised an eyebrow. "The day has finally come..."

"Waited for? This day?" Anton's eyes were filled with deep doubt. "Comrade, could it be that..."

The colonel turned around, ran to a cabinet in the barracks, and pulled out a sealed brown paper bag.

"Take a look at these." The colonel took out several photos and pieces of paper from inside.

“Is this Berlin?” Anton picked up one of the photos.

The date in the corner of the photo is September 11th of this year. The image shows a group of soldiers carrying rifles walking along a broken street. Without exception, they have their backs to the camera, clearly indicating that the photographer secretly went around to their backs to take the picture.

The next picture is also from the same day, still from Berlin, and still shows a group of soldiers with guns pointed at them, looking around.

However, this image is clearly clearer. In it, a soldier is touching his helmet with his left hand and holding a sturdy rifle in his right. Two barrels, one long and one short, are positioned side by side, and a pair of bipods beside the muzzle are pointing upwards. Clearly, this is an M1918 Browning Automatic Rifle, so the soldier carrying it is undoubtedly a U.S. Army soldier.

The remaining photos all show these soldiers carrying guns and walking down the street. Although some are clear and some are blurry, it can be generally seen that their weapons and equipment are basically the same as those of the American gunman in the photo, presenting a completely different appearance from the Soviet soldiers.

"Well, an ordinary lieutenant probably wouldn't be familiar with high-level operational plans," the colonel said, his lips twitching slightly. "But they'd certainly be well aware of the rumors and gossip circulating among the soldiers, wouldn't they?"

"Yes, as everyone knows, there was a lot of commotion in Berlin on the 11th of last month... and then a few days ago..."

"Was it really the Americans who did it?" Anton asked, holding the photos, his eyes revealing his confusion.

"Take a look at this one." The colonel calmly pulled out a notebook full of writing from the pile of photos and scraps of paper.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

"On September 11, 1945, two trains pulled into the station at the same time. Many soldiers disembarked from one of them, while the other carried a lot of guns and ammunition, as well as several brand-new tanks and armored vehicles..."

"Furthermore, many American soldiers mentioned in their conversations that there was a significant commotion at the Brandenburg Gate today, but since their units were not deployed, it's difficult for me to determine the exact situation there..."

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

"On September 12, the U.S. military suddenly went on high alert on a large scale, as if there was some new military operation. I could hardly get close to them."

"A week has passed, and the US military seems to have lifted the alert and returned to its previous state of complacency..."

……

"Really? Anton still couldn't believe his eyes, and his hand holding the notepad was slightly sweaty.

"What? You've dealt with those Westerners so much that you trust them?"

The colonel then took out another folder containing several telegrams.

“I may not be able to convince you, but if you dare to question orders from your superiors out of thin air, you should be talking to the officers in the military law department now.”

The colonel paused, looking at the text on the telegram.

"Shortly after the incident in September, the higher command had already ordered a group army and an infantry corps from Poland to be secretly transferred to the Berlin area. After another major commotion four days ago, not only were some troops ordered to enter the city of Berlin to set up defenses, but three air regiments were also sent to the field airfields in Kostzyn and Frankfurt am Oder."

"Lieutenant, what kind of opponent do you think would warrant such a large deployment of troops from the higher-ups to defend this area? Is it the remaining German rebels, or a fully-fledged Western 'ally'?"

Anton remained silent, but his eyes seemed somewhat dim.

The colonel suddenly straightened up, his face instantly becoming much more serious.

"Lieutenant Anton Vasilyev!"

"Here!" The lieutenant also stood at attention.

"Listen up! Now, let your comrades get some rest. Tomorrow at 1 a.m., we will be heading to Neunhagen for garrison duty. Your guard company and the 7th Company's mission is to protect the artillery battalion's positions! Whoever enters your firing range—American, British, or German—whether they come on foot, by car, or in a tank, even a villager with farm tools driving a horse-drawn cart—as long as they are not wearing our uniform, you must fire on them! Understand?"

"Yes, sir!"

The colonel strode forward, reached out and patted Anton on the shoulder before walking away.

Anton didn't say another word. After putting away the photos and documents, he turned and walked out of the barracks.

……

"Sheva, let's go!" the lieutenant called out to the jeep waiting for him in front of the barracks.

Upon hearing this, the soldier sitting in the jeep hurriedly put down the photo he was holding, frantically stuffed it back into the backpack hanging behind the passenger seat, and quickly started the jeep.

"Company commander, where are we going now?"

He turned around and found that Anton was already sitting in the passenger seat, had taken off his military cap, and put on the helmet that was placed in the back of the jeep.

"Go find a place for the comrades to rest. We need to get up before dawn and head towards Berlin."

"Okay, and also..."

"Company Commander." Sheva's uneasy words were almost drowned out by the sound of the engine running.

"Are we... going to fight the Americans?"

“I don’t know.” Anton turned around, took off his backpack, and pulled out the photo with a corner still showing.

"In short, point your guns toward Berlin..."

……

In the photo, an American soldier and a Soviet soldier stand together, their faces beaming with joy, embracing each other.

Below is a string of English letters and a string of numbers...

“To Anton Vasiliev——Jonathan Campbell”

(To Anton Vasilyev – Jonathan Campbell)

"1945.5.15"

Section 11, Chapter Six: The Suppression

In the blink of an eye, the Berlin sky is about to lose its last glimmer of light, and the once silent night seems to be approaching.

But "silence" and "noise" are like two brothers who will never be together and will always be arguing.

This night in Berlin is destined to be anything but peaceful...

At the Britannian military camp in front of the Brandenburg Gate, all sorts of large lights were casting dazzling beams of light onto the main roads leading to the area.

In the camp, some soldiers were hurriedly checking weapons and ammunition, walking back and forth like workers in a factory, the air filled with the pungent smell of sweat and dust.

When they came into this world, golden beams of light formed a giant gate here. Now, that gate has temporarily disappeared, leaving behind an empty land, though there are now more lights laid out on the ground compared to the morning.

……

Meanwhile, next to an inconspicuous barracks in the camp, Lieutenant Colonel Caronville was being helped by a soldier toward the barracks.

Just as the soldier helped him push open the curtain of the barracks, an officer walked towards the two of them.

"Your Excellency Lieutenant Colonel."

Caronville turned around and saw a male officer standing behind him, saluting him.