Chapter 891: Chapter 19: Leading Personally
1 a.m., August 9, Plowsonia, Royal Palace bunker.
General Moochi stroked the velvet on the armrests of the chair and said, “The advantage of returning to Plowsonia is that we can sit in luxurious chairs.”
The Plathen Emperor disliked luxurious chairs, so most of the chairs in the Eagle’s Nest were made of “raw wood” and were very hard to sit on.
After the High Command moved with the Emperor to the Eagle’s Nest, many senior officers got hemorrhoids, thanks to those hard chairs.
Marshal Celt was almost lting into the velvet chair, and upon hearing General Moochi’s words, he imdiately agreed, “Yes, that’s one of the few benefits we have left.”
The Ante army is approaching Prague and Vilna, the Eagle’s Nest is no longer safe, and it’s unlikely the Western Front can push the Allied Forces into the sea anyti soon, so the Plathen Emperor has approved the High Command’s relocation back to the capital.
For this matter, the Emperor has locked himself in the room for nearly 20 hours.
“The Communications Departnt’s rumor,” Marshal Celt continued, “His Majesty has been making calls non-stop, seemingly plotting sothing.”
General Moochi: “Can a few phone calls change the situation now? No, they cannot.”
“You all seem so pessimistic.” The Imperial Propaganda Minister entered the lounge, “We’ve exerted every effort to maintain morale across the army, yet the senior officers at the central command are enveloped by defeatism!”
Marshal Celt shook his head: “I won’t even talk about the million troops annihilated. Now 1.5 million fresh troops are trapped in the fortified region near Kebao, without heavy equipnt, insufficient shells, not enough grenades, bullets—well, the bullets should be enough.
“Trying to gather so gear from the civilians within the encirclent could produce quite a few bullets. But everyone knows well that the Anteans will not attack Kebao; it’s just an ard prisoner camp.
“We suddenly lost 2.5 million fresh troops, these 2.5 million were battle-hardened veterans and thoroughly trained mobilized soldiers, we are essentially crippled.”
Propaganda Minister: “Didn’t many troops manage to escape? These troops are now seasoned veterans; as long as we replenish—”
Marshal Celt: “Replenish with little boys and big girls who aren’t even as tall as rifles? If we could transfer all the Western Front troops over, there’s still hope, we could hold out for a while with the Oder and Vistula Rivers.”
“There’s still hope on the Western Front!” the Propaganda Minister emphasized, “As long as the enemy doesn’t capture Kinburg, once the Allied forces run out of supplies, they will collapse.”
“There’s currently only three divisions defending Kinburg,” General Moochi exhaled a smoke ring.
Marshal Celt: “While the Allied forces surrounding Kinburg number 300,000.”
Even the Propaganda Minister fell silent.
The Great Commander of the Asgard Knights, who entered the room at an unknown ti, said: “The good news is that various intelligence reports suggest that Rocossov did not halt for rest but ordered his troops to advance towards the lania Capital. He is wary of these 300,000 lania Forces under his command revolting.
“Operation ‘Laufer’ is showing initial success. We’re dragging the Anteans down, rendering them immobile for six months, then we’ll have the strength to deal with the Allied Forces!”
Upon seeing the Great Commander, Marshal Celt sat up straight, and when he saw the head of the Imperial Ministry entering with the Great Commander, he tightened his shoulders, showing a full military deanor.
General Moochi, more favored by His Majesty, was not as obvious as Marshal Celt, but he too wiped the defeatist look off his face.
The Great Commander continued: “Judging from the Western Front’s situation, the Allied Forces’ fighting strength is clearly inferior to ours and that of the Ante army, we can…”
General Moochi: “But their firepower is much stronger than the Ante army’s. Especially the United States Army, their integrated air-ground firepower has given us a lot of trouble.
“The armored troops are manageable, but the enemy’s air force’s efficiency in killing our soft targets is just too high.”
When United States Air Force planes appear over the battlefield, both Prosen Army and United States Army frantically seek cover, underscoring equality for all beings.
The Great Commander: “Even Rocossov’s artillery cannot destroy our army!”
“The United States Army’s artillery is as fierce as Rocossov’s, but their air force is a hundred tis more ferocious than Rocossov’s,” Marshal Celt said.
Duke yer couldn’t resist interjecting: “United States Army’s fighter pilots have been continually bombing our airports since last year, with incredible precision whether dropping bombs or firing rockets.”
Marshal Celt: “Ah, it is you who have trained the enemy to be so elite.”
Duke yer raised his voice: “We’ve shot down thousands of their fighters! But they—they still have thousands, even tens of thousands of fighters, and well-trained pilots.
“Captured pilots say they have a rotation system, with ace pilots who have shot down over five planes being sent back on leave, sharing experiences in flight schools with new trainees. The double-ace who shoots down ten becos an instructor.
“And those who shoot down over 20 beco the cream of the crop and are banned from further combat flights, instead leading a flight school back in their holand.
“We want to emulate their system too, but there’s no secure spot across our territory. Our pilots face the risk of being drafted into holand air defense missions by ground control as soon as they take off every day!
“The newspapers always talk about our Prosen super pilots who have shot down 200 or 300 planes, but that is actually the result of an extrely high number of sorties and combat hours!”
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