artillery arc

Chapter 348: United States Journalists Arrive at Yarsk (Silver Plus 9/10)

In the early morning of July 7, reporter Mike felt the train brake and climbed up from the haystack.

He saw that the soldiers were still resting in the sealed car, and even the military chaplain was writing a letter by the light of a small flashlight.

Mike: "Do priests also write letters home?"

"Of course. The priests of the Saintly Church will, and the secular priests will be even more so." The military priest smiled.

Mike looked up at the vent of the sealed truck and said, "It's already daylight outside, why don't we just open the door? It's so hot and stuffy in here, and it smells like men's sweat."

The priest glanced at the vent and nodded, "You're right, Mr. Mike. I was so focused on writing that I didn't notice it."

Mike: “Writing something important?”

"I'm arranging my funeral." The priest said calmly, "The most casualties on the front line are the chaplains, even higher than the rear-seat machine gunners of the Il-2, so I must arrange my funeral."

As soon as the words were spoken, the light from the flash temporarily illuminated the sealed carriage.

"Robert!" Mike raised his voice, "Isn't it a bad time to take pictures?"

The photographer said to the priest: "Leave me your address and I will give this photo to your family."

"Thank you." The priest looked happy.

Seeing that the owner didn't mind, Mike gave up. He stood up, walked to the door and tried to open it.

The military priest hurried over to help, and with the combined efforts of the two, the gate slid open, revealing the fields in the morning light.

Maybe because we were very close to Yarvik, we could see many houses and telephone poles in the fields, which was not an ordinary grassland scene.

The missionary who accompanied the army said: "Further east from here, the grassland is endless, there are not even wheat fields, and shepherds with sheepdogs will roam the grassland with their sheep."

Reporter Mike: "You mean they are still nomadic now?"

"It's not easy to eat up all the pastures in one place. The church has organized mobile medical teams and maintenance teams to provide services to these shepherds. In addition, they will drive the sheep to a fixed shearing point during the wool shearing season every year."

The priest paused and continued, "The grassland will be a great sight for the Prosen people. It is no less impressive than General Mud!"

Reporter Mike: "But the High Command decided to stop the Prosens on the west side of the steppe, and even sent Rokossov over there."

"Because we can't let the Prosens enter the grassland too early," the priest replied, "and the generals in the command may have other ideas. Anyway, if we can delay it a little longer, we will be more prepared. Every month we delay, more soldiers will be added to the army."

He paused, looked at reporter Mike, and added: "With every extra month of delay, more supplies will be shipped in from the United States. For this, I am actually very grateful to my friends in the United States."

Reporter Mike scratched his head, feeling a little embarrassed.

At this time, more buildings appeared outside, and it was obvious that the train had entered the real suburbs of Yarvik.

Factories and chimneys began to appear, and Mike even saw anti-aircraft guns covered with camouflage nets.

The train slid into the station area and entered the dispatching yard, where the branch line leading to the locomotive maintenance shop could be seen.

The switchman holding the green light stood on the roadside and waved to the train.

Finally, the platform appeared, and the civilian officer who came to meet us was holding a writing board and looking at the train's cargo list clipped on it. Behind him, workers who helped unload the cargo lined up in a row.

Suddenly, Mike's attention was drawn to the opposite platform.

"Hey, Robert, come and look!" He tapped his partner who was filming the people on the platform. "Look here! Stop filming the workers on the platform! Look at that!"

Robert turned around and saw "that" at first sight. His eyes widened immediately: "Oh!"

"Oh shit, take a picture!"

It was a square tank that looked like it might be over sixty tons, with the Iron Cross emblem of Proshen on the turret and the hull.

The tank was parked on a flatbed truck used to transport armored vehicles. Its tracks had been removed and two of its road wheels were broken. The remaining road wheel even extended beyond the flatbed truck and was hanging in the air - this tank was surprisingly so wide!
The porters were working with the Ante fighters to move the tank's tracks and road wheels onto another flatbed truck.

Mike: "This is definitely the enemy's new tank! Proshen's new tank! Rokosov captured it!"

My partner Robert was too busy taking photos to answer.

Reporter Mike jumped onto the platform without waiting for the train he was on to stop and rushed towards the train carrying the tank.

The photographer was a step behind him, but he tried hard to catch up.

Five minutes later, Mike finally arrived in front of the Proson tank and found that it looked more intimidating from a close distance.

"My God!" He grabbed an officer, "Is this General Rokossov's prisoner? Absolutely?"

The officer laughed and said, "Of course, when General Rokossov arrived, he had heard about Prosen's new tank that was beating us hard, and he was determined to capture it. And now it's here."

Another officer said: "I heard there are three more, but all three have been destroyed, and the engineering troops are working hard to recover the wreckage."

The officer who started it all took back the conversation: "Fortunately, our army has a lot of recovery and repair troops. Other armies would probably just leave their weapons there if they were destroyed."

Mike keenly caught the key words and asked hurriedly: "Are you an officer of the First Mobile Army?"

"Yes, I am the commander of the 5th Support Company of the Logistics Brigade directly under the First Mobile Army Headquarters." The officer nodded to his companion, "He is the commander of the Army Motor Brigade. We both worked in local factories. The general said that professional technicians were needed, so I joined the army!"

Mike: "This is the result of the First Mobile Army, right?"

"It was the result of the advance team's battle. The general led a battalion of tank destroyers and a bunch of jeeps to capture this!" said the commander of the support company. The commander of the motor company took over the conversation: "I heard that when only this one was left, the tankers of Prosen still wanted to resist stubbornly, but the general personally held a red flag and rode a white horse to persuade them to surrender. When they heard that General Rokossov had come, they surrendered without hesitation!"

Mike: "Is this a surrender? Not a capture by killing the people inside with a grenade?"

"No, if you don't believe me, go in and take a look. There's not even any blood in the tank. It's very clean, just like new!"

Mike: "So where can I interview the surrendered Plosson tankmen?"

The commanders of the motor company and the support company looked at each other and said with difficulty: "These Proen tankers are now under the close supervision of the Inquisitor. You need the consent of the Army Group Bishop to see them."

Mike asked hurriedly, "Where is the bishop?"

The commander of the support company raised one hand and pointed.

When reporter Mike turned around, he saw the bald head of Army Group Bishop Popov.

There were two bald men in Rokossov's headquarters, one was Pavlov and the other was Popov. Mike happened to know both of them.

"Thank you very much." Mike said goodbye to the two company commanders and turned back to look for his partner, only to discover that his partner had already climbed onto the flatbed truck and was taking pictures of the huge vehicle.

So he shook his head and ran towards Popov alone.

As soon as Mike ran up to Popov, the army's military bishop recognized him and said, "Isn't this a reporter from the United States? When Pavlov called me, he said he would put you on a train to this side. Did you have a smooth journey?"

Mike nodded repeatedly, then said, "I want to interview the surrendered Plosson tank driver who drove this tank!"

Popov pointed to the barely-there carriage and said, "Yes, they are on this train. I have asked the local railway department to dispatch a passenger carriage to transport them."

Mike turned his head and saw an ordinary passenger carriage. In this situation, even the wounded had to sit in a sealed carriage. The specifications of the passenger carriage for the prisoners were indeed very high.

Mike: “I went up?”

"Go ahead. The guard's inquisitor recognizes you. You are a celebrity among us. Wait a minute, do you speak Prosin?"

Mike smiled: "Have you forgotten that Prosan and Anglo belong to the same language family? I have learned Prosan, and I have no problem with simple conversations."

"Oh, I wish you good luck then." Popov nodded.

Mike then turned and ran towards the train.

The judge guarding the door nodded to him and let him pass - but reporter Mike had no impression of this judge.

When he got on the car, Mike found that it was a car full of Plossom prisoners, and several of them were wrapped in bandages and had IV drips.

Mike asked in Proson, "Excuse me, who is the commander of the tank with tactical number 217?"

A thin Lieutenant Plossom raised his hand: "Me."

Mike looked at him: "Are these all your team members?"

Lieutenant Plosson: "Not all of them. Those in light-colored uniforms are infantry. I can only command those in dark armored uniforms."

Mike: "You are a lieutenant, right? The rank of armored troops seems to be different from that of ordinary Proson troops. I'm not sure..."

"Yes, I'm a lieutenant."

Mike: "Can you tell me about your surrender process? The Ants at the station were all dressed in amazing clothes..."

Mike noticed that the lieutenant glanced at the non-commissioned officer next to him.

"Is it related to this sergeant?"

The sergeant looked at Mike and said, "I was the first one to surrender. At that time, we were being pointed at by the barrels of seven or eight new assault guns. We couldn't even shoot through the front of the assault guns, but the assault guns could easily kill us! I just chose a method that would allow us to return home smoothly!"

Mike was shocked: "Didn't Rokossov personally persuade you to surrender?"

Lieutenant Plosson: "Yes. He was riding a white horse, holding a red flag, and coming towards our machine guns and artillery."

Mike's eyes widened: "Walking towards you?"

"Yes."

"Didn't you fire your guns?"

"Our scopes can't catch up with him."

"You can't catch up with him?" Reporter Mike repeated Plosson's words in surprise. "What do you mean? Did you mean he rushed to you like a bolt of lightning?"

At this time, an infantryman in a light-colored uniform spoke up: "He circled and approached the tank. I saw it with my own eyes. I thought he was going to chop the tank with the red flag in his hand! Just like the rumors said."

"rumor?"

"The veterans who fought his troops all said he could cut a tank with a knife!" said the infantryman.

At this time the lieutenant said: "He didn't cut our tanks with knives. He used new assault guns to defeat us."

Just as he finished speaking, someone else in the infantry said, "There is also a new type of submachine gun with a very long range and no sound! It can kill dozens or even hundreds of us silently!"

Mike raised his eyebrows, looking like he had found a treasure.

(End of this chapter)