Codegease: Air and Land Warfare 1946

"Tell me quickly how many casualties you have." With her back to the towering flames and thick smoke, and the echoes of explosions, Suzaku began to feel uneasy. "I, I'll help you make contact right away."

Just as the two were worrying about their commander, who was covered in blood, they saw another cannon shot coming from the direction Lancelot had come from. The mountain of corpses, made up of the limbs and torsos of KMFs and the bones of T-34s, was strangely writhing slightly with the intermittent roar of the engines.

……

“Nevia…Suzaku, Your Excellency!” It was Niola’s hoarse voice coming through the radio.

As the two hesitated, several Soviet infantrymen suddenly appeared out of nowhere, carrying Panzerfausts and anti-tank grenades, and rushed in front of them, blowing one of Lancelot's VARIS rifles to pieces.

"Go back to your plane!" Suzaku instinctively crouched down and activated the shield at full power, forming a hemisphere around himself to protect against the threat of the explosion.

Before they could finish dealing with the infantry, a sudden gust of wind thinned the smoke on the battlefield. Just then, Suzaku Kururugi and Nivia witnessed the most terrifying scene of their lives.

A T-34, almost completely engulfed in flames, was moving forward at full speed in a bizarre manner, hysterically smashing through everything in its path—KMF tanks and other tank wreckage. Upon closer inspection, its turret had also fallen to the ground, and the entire vehicle roared forward like a burning steel coffin.

"Please! Your Excellency!" It was only after Niola switched places again that Suzaku realized what was happening. When he broke through the smoke and saw the burning headless tank again, it had already advanced to Vincent, who was paralyzed in place with his lower body missing.

"My hatch is stuck! Help me!" The T-34 crashed into Niola's aircraft, its fiery tracks crushing the humanoid weapon's cabin and head, before finally being engulfed in countless corpses along with the towering flames of the ammunition explosion.

"Why, why..." Suzaku, who had witnessed all of this, stood frozen in place, holding VARIS in his hand—the tank driver could have jumped out of the hatch in front of him and escaped the furnace inside the tank, so why...

Tanks ahead were aiming at him and firing. Lancelot was about to kneel down to activate his shield and retaliate with VARIS when Suzaku suddenly felt a loud bang beneath him that made his legs go numb. Lancelot had suddenly tilted to the side and fallen to the ground.

"Left leg, blown off?!" Looking at the KMF status panel, Suzaku found a Soviet soldier's corpse suddenly beside him. His two blood-stained legs were riddled with shrapnel, and his upper body had been blown open at an angle, exposing his internal organs—even in this state, he still dragged himself over, just to use an anti-tank grenade to disable his aircraft?!

It was at this moment that Suzaku truly heard the sounds from the battlefield.

The tanks that could still be started were still fighting the KMFs on the wide slope, but more often, the fighting was taking place outside each hatch. To his surprise, the KMF pilots and tank crews, without prior arrangement, grabbed their weapons and throwables, climbed out of their vehicles, and charged towards the enemy.

The artillery fire had ceased, but the life-or-death struggle with bullets and grenades continued. Tank crews and pilots even used their own burning vehicles as cover, continuing their battle amidst the suffocating black smoke, the dizzying sea of ​​fire, and even among every unrecognizable corpse, as if no one cared about Lancelot's silver-white figure anymore.

PPSh-45s and pistols fought fiercely, bullets bouncing back and forth between steel armor, lying among the numerous corpses as gravel; bayonets and sabers fought fiercely, the enemy's disembowelment was always more important than whether one's own throat was slit.

Lancelot's arms, which he used for balance on the ground, were writhing in agony. Suzaku, witnessing this scene, was completely unable to remain calm. He also saw a soldier with a knife stuck in his forearm throwing stones at the enemy beneath him, and even saw a knight missing a shoulder desperately trying to bite the neck of the tank crewman he was fighting.

"Why is this happening...? Did I come here to aid the Knights of the Jade Robes? Why are all the people in District 45, regardless of whether they're from the Soviet Union, Poland, or Britannia, living like monsters?!"

"Lord Suzaku, be careful!" At that moment, Nivia suddenly rushed behind him, using herself and her aircraft to block a T-34 tank that was flanking Lancelot and firing at him.

When Suzaku retaliated, he dared not look at the ground anymore. The girl who had just been with him rescuing the commander, the girl who had just been with him trying to rescue her sister, was now thrown out of the cabin by Vincent, who had been disemboweled, and with a snap of her neck hitting the ground, she became one of the many corpses buried under the steel tomb.

"Suzaku Kururugi!" At that moment, Miss Cecil's voice came from the western sky. She was once again piloting the Sunderland used for shield testing, flying shakily toward Lancelot's location.

"I must help you get out of this battlefield now; it's too dangerous!"

"But, all by yourself?!" Zhuque turned back and looked at the numerous knights and soldiers still fighting the Soviet army on the ground.

"The Sky Fleet is about to bomb this place, and another enemy force will be attacking you soon!" Cecil cried out anxiously over the radio. "Concentrate all the remaining energy into the shield, and I'll help you get out of here."

"What? The Sky Fleet? Along with the Britannian officers and soldiers?!" The dumbfounded Suzaku almost swung his hand back at Cecil's aircraft to show his refusal, but the latter had already put his arms under Lancelot's armpits and started flying back to the west with him in his arms.

"Stop! We can't abandon them!" Suzaku cried out in despair, still frantically aiming and firing his VARIS gun at anything still moving on the ground. "This isn't how battles are supposed to be!"

Until the shadow of the Sky Fleet appeared above his head, no matter how much Suzaku roared and screamed to stop it, the ship's cannons remained unmoved and began to aim at the ground, casting endless fire rain down on the place where the Jade Knights were still fighting like cornered beasts, and on the distant Soviet and Polish forces that were about to arrive, burying Suzaku's gaze and the Jade Knights' last battle robes together in the shell craters.

……

Lancelot eventually returned to Berlin with a limp.

An indignant Suzaku Kururugi stormed into the Capitol and rushed up to Elizabeth and Kelly, who were quietly discussing matters with the generals.

"What are you doing, Your Highness! The entire Jade Knights are all dead! They all died by our own guns!"

Everyone lowered their heads and remained silent, gazing at Suzaku's face, except for Elizabeth, who stared into Suzaku's eyes. There was none of the reprimand from the Special District ceremony long ago, nor the dissatisfaction that Kelly wore on his face; only the insignia of the Jade Knights, which had appeared on the chests of all the generals at some point.

"We're just following their laws on the homeland of the people of District 45, trying to prevent more people from dying like dogs without any reason..."

Chapter 393, Section 499: The Warsaw Rally - From the Habsburgs to the Balkans

“I regret my rash plan of action, Your Highness Elizabeth.”

For the first time, Marshal Manslit lowered his head and acted arrogantly in front of the princess—it would have been a huge mistake to casually snap a photo of him.

“Victory and defeat are common occurrences in war; we’ve been through it all.” Elizabeth suppressed her involuntary sneer and adopted a calm and magnanimous demeanor. “If you need our help, we will certainly be there to assist you.”

“We…we may have indeed left the people of District 45 in the east hanging for too long. We were a bit careless and didn’t expect them to have already bleed themselves dry.” Manslit said on the surface that he had underestimated the enemy, but everyone knew that there was more to his words than met the eye—the Soviets were able to hold out until today because Elizabeth didn’t press her advantage back then, otherwise, they wouldn’t have had a chance to perform.

“It’s not just you, Your Excellency; we also bear some responsibility.” Elizabeth, who understood his intentions, still tried to hide her sneer. “Indeed, it was extremely inappropriate to put 170 million troops into a basket that only had one direction of attack. It’s not just me who regrets not repairing the bridges we blew up in the middle of the Oder River; the generals are also trying to remedy your worries.”

"Of course, it is not realistic to build a bridge in front of the Soviets and Poles, so Count Hohenzollern submitted a new plan to me to open up the situation in Poland. Eight army groups and corps led by his troops will then advance eastward from the direction of Szczecin under the cover of the navy. At that time, Poznan will be the place where Marshal and the Count will meet up."

"It sounds a bit too simple, Your Highness?" Manslitt was clearly a little skeptical of the plan, or more specifically, he didn't believe Elizabeth could be so kind.

“So let the Earl come and talk to you in more detail.” Before Elizabeth could finish speaking, Hohenzollern entered with several generals.

“Your Highness, I will handle the new plan for the Eastern Front with the Marshal on my own.” The Earl glanced at Manslitt while subtly exchanging glances with Elizabeth. “If Your Highness has anything else to discuss…”

“Since the Marshal has said that he underestimated the Soviets, then the Eastern Front should be elevated to a priority.” The princess lowered her head and fiddled with her fingers, making the gesture they had agreed upon earlier. “You can begin now. I will listen here and let you know immediately if there are any changes, so that I can be prepared.”

Hohenzollern spread out the map, along with all the rules and regulations on it, and placed it in front of the marshal, finally turning the meeting room into a meeting room.

Elizabeth sat in her seat, reminiscing about the script she and the Earl had prepared beforehand for this play.

"The attack plan definitely needs to be discussed with him in person, Earl. It would be bad if he misinterpreted my earnest advice as condescending contempt from a commander who 'holds an army and is self-important'."

“The ‘supervisor’ sent by His Highness Schneizel is truly cunning…” The count wasn’t exactly a very shrewd person to begin with, and he was a little nervous about taking on such a heavy responsibility. “To be honest, Your Highness, his hands are practically reaching into every brick in District 45.”

"How?"

“The night before last, someone told me that the Marshal’s personal guard had been loitering around Leipzig, circling the neighborhood where the elderly, weak, sick, and disabled German civilians were being held… Could this be related to the occasional attacks on logistics convoys by guerrilla armed groups in our occupied territories’ 45th district over the past two months?”

"The guerrilla activity is west of the Elbe River; Leipzig is peaceful." Upon hearing this, Elizabeth was puzzled. "Secondly, how many official titles can you get for capturing these commoners? Would a scoundrel like Manslitt, who went to fight the Soviets because of his ambition, even be interested in this?"

“I asked Duke Sassler and consulted General Trosa, and she thinks the same way… Sigh, not many of us are thinking about this kind of thing every day…”

“There is one person who understands very well, he knows exactly what Schneizel is planning.” Elizabeth suddenly reached out and pinched the count’s sleeve, her face and fingers like a girl trying to persuade her father who was about to leave on a long journey. “The letter I instructed you to send to Marshal Auchindoun.”

“Don’t mention it, Your Highness.” Upon hearing that name, Hohenzollern was startled and quickly looked around, lowering his voice to speak to the princess. “I received the news a day before I went to District 11 to find Lord Suzaku. His Highness Schneizel has specially arranged a group of people to be responsible for the Marshal’s mailing of letters and communication equipment.”

"That!..." Elizabeth's face changed. This was tantamount to putting Auchenny under house arrest on the African battlefield. "The letter was intercepted?"

"I kept your letter at the time, and wrote a casual letter of greeting and arranged for someone to send it to him. On the day I returned to Berlin, Lord Bismarck, the First Knight of the Round Table, suddenly detained me. He said he was there to 'condolence' me on behalf of Prince Schneizel..."

"Why didn't you say anything the day you came back!..." Elizabeth stared, her eyes wide with frustration and sorrow. "Do you know how much I missed him?..."

……

The news of the mobilization of ground troops to launch an attack from Szczecin, along with the gathering of naval support ships, had naturally reached Marshal Rokossovsky long ago through the eyes of Soviet reconnaissance aircraft and submarines.

At this time, Marshal Konev, who was stationed in Prague, called him—the Britannians were beginning to gather troops again on the border between Germany and Czechoslovakia.

"My worst fears have come true. They have sent their Skyships over the Ore Mountains and pointed their guns at the firing positions on the various high grounds."

On this very day, the Soviet and Czech troops stationed on the mountain, along with the German soldiers with crimson towels wrapped around their arms, finally understood what was most troublesome about those weapons that the enemy called KMF.

It wasn't those aces who could scale walls and leap across rooftops, but rather these nutcracker-like puppets. Even after undergoing only a little training, these puppets could launch their wire-guided grappling hooks onto steep cliffs and, with the operation of winches and mechanical legs, traverse treacherous roads that no vehicle could ever reach.

After each barrage of fire from the Skyships, before the defenders on the mountain could even recover and re-enter their firing positions, the KMFs would already be on their way up the mountain, guns and cannons aimed at anyone who dared to show their face.

In almost a day, the Britannians wiped out nearly a third of the firing positions on the mountain. If these humanoid weapons hadn't relied on supplies from wheeled trucks for sustenance, and if the Czechoslovakians hadn't had their German-made bombers working so hard to blast away the enemy who had occupied the mountain, the consequences would have been unimaginable.

“That’s true. In the past two weeks, 10 airships bombed Poland. This time, 20 are right on the border. Who can stand that?” Rokossovsky also felt a headache coming on. He was also wondering why the Soviet Air Force hadn’t been instilled with the DNA of being able to mount rockets on everything like the British and Americans had done so much earlier. “Did General Genoschk say anything to you?”

"Comrade General told me that they are now extremely busy." Konev paused, then sighed. "The Britannians seem determined to invade. The entire Czechoslovakian military and civilian population is busy moving tank and aircraft factories near Prague to Brno and even Bratislava in the Carpathian Mountains."

"Now, the BF109 and FW190s of the Jetsky Air Force that have been fitted with rocket racks are barely enough to cause trouble for the Skyships, but the Hungarians and Romanians are being dragged down, especially their BF110s. If they can carry rockets, they're dragons; if they can't, they're worms."

“That’s true, moving the factory to Budapest would probably be even more troublesome…” Rokossovsky sighed. In the end, they would have to rely on themselves and the Poles and Czechs to take the lead. “Hey, by the way, are the Hungarian ground troops in position yet?”

"Their Panzer IV tanks and StuG III assault guns should be arriving in Prague tonight. I was wondering if the Romanians have reached Poznan yet." Konev said, suddenly becoming both amused and exasperated. "What's wrong with these two groups? They just don't want to go to the German-Czech border to help?"

“Wait, you just said the Hungarians are going to Prague, right?” Rokossovsky suddenly changed his tone—he had just received a telegram from the communications officer. “Quickly tell them to turn back towards Linz. The American army has sent word from Munich that the Britannians have already invaded Austria.”

……

The world has entered the third day of August, just five weeks after Lieutenant Carius of the former German Wehrmacht commanded Tiger tanks to assist the US troops stationed in Neumarkt.

It was still this Jaguar, followed by a group of French soldiers driving Panther tanks. The wide tracks under the crisscrossing road wheels rolled over the bridge over the Inn River, crossed the German-Austrian border, and passed Salzburg, the birthplace of the musical genius Mozart.

Since 1920, the city had held an annual music festival, a carnival for orchestral creations, from July to early September. However, when World War II broke out, the young festival disappeared like a young person who had just come of age but was suddenly struck by misfortune.

Today, as Karlsruhe passes through, there is still no sound of violins playing in the streets, only American troops stationed there on high alert. Meanwhile, further north of Salzburg, on the German-Austrian border, the KMF's iron hooves and the roar of armed helicopters are swarming towards Linz and Vienna like locusts, attempting to bite open the second gateway to Czechoslovakia.

Carius's Tiger, along with the Panthers behind it and the trucks carrying supplies, drove in a long convoy through the valleys of the Alps, taking a safer detour to Linz.

The Britannian advance came within a mere fifty kilometers of them in a straight line. The lieutenant could even hear familiar sounds echoing through the valleys—the Jericho horn of the Stuka, the 75mm gun of the Panzer IV, and even the engine of the 38-ton light tank, as the Britannian expeditionary force fought desperately against the Czechoslovakians and Hungarians.

At that moment, a strange phenomenon appeared in the sky. Several squadrons of Il-2 and Yak fighters flew over the mountaintop clouds above Carius, followed by several Ju-87s, while higher in the sky, two small squadrons of British Spitfire fighters escorted them.

Even more strangely, they all have the same emblem on their wings and tail: a huge red five-pointed star sitting inside a perfect circle outlined in blue and yellow with a white background.

After the Il-2 and Ju-87 finished dropping their bombs, they flew with the Yak and Spitfire escorting them to the outskirts of Vienna, where a brand-new field airfield on the banks of the Danube awaited their first landing.

Yes, this is not their departure point, but from today onwards this will be their base. And on the border of their homeland that they flew over before, a long line of T-34 tanks just drove past here.

The writing on the side armor of the tanks and the speech of the soldiers inside and outside the vehicles were all in Serbian-Croatian, a language different from that of Siberians. At the very front of the marching column, on the barrel wagon carrying a general, the flag of the Federal People's Republic of Yugoslavia was flying high.

Chapter 394, Section 500: The Red Navy is Not Dead

Located at the mouth of the Oder River where it flows into the Baltic Sea, and after repeated artillery bombardments from both sides, the Soviet Red Flag in Szczecin finally retreated eastward toward Poland on the fifth day of August, under the dual pressure of the ground offensive commanded by Count Hohenzollern and the Britannian naval fleet.

The missile destroyers' guns bombarded Polish soil, opening a sea support line for the expeditionary force pouring into Poland from Szczecin. For the entire Soviet-led Eastern European united armed alliance, and for the countries that could only rely on air control for naval supremacy, this was undoubtedly a sharp and fatal blow.

Now, the Swedish ships are either sunk to the bottom of the sea or hiding and too afraid to fight. The Soviet Red Navy has also almost disappeared since the Battle of Rügen. Almost all of Europe's focus at sea is now on Denmark's small territory.

General Trossa, who was in charge of the invasion of Northern Europe, basically thought the same thing. At this point, the only force capable of competing with the combined might of airships and missile destroyers in the arena was the North Atlantic Fleet led by Britain and the United States, and its carrier battle groups that were on high alert.

Yes, a ring is a place for open and honest fighting, but in war, there are many "hidden weapons" that cannot be used in public, and submarines are a prime example of such hidden weapons used in the sea.

"U-boats, that's what the people of District 45 call themselves, right?" The carrier-based attack groups rarely show themselves, but there are quite a few submarines that launch surprise attacks on their own transport fleets crossing the sea every now and then.

With the former German submariners taking the lead, British and American submarines began to lurk in the Baltic Sea like cockroaches. The destroyers, which routinely patrolled the seas and were fully loaded with anti-ship missiles ready to retaliate at any time, gradually lost patience for focusing on important matters and put their anti-submarine rockets back into the vertical launch system.

……

Today is August 7th, exactly one month after the Stockholm bombing. The Baltic Sea is shrouded in thick fog, and Duke Rabinowicz's naval fleet is completely busy bombarding Poland. Trossa is having breakfast, waiting for news from the front that the "Karlskrona naval port has been completely captured."

This naval port, named after the city it occupies, is built on an island separated from the mainland by a waterway only about twenty meters wide. The island is shaped like a barbell, with two large ends at the north and south, and a narrow section in the middle. A railway bridge and several highway bridges connect it to the mainland on the north side. The bay where the naval port is located is divided by several large islands and scattered sandbars, giving it a defensive and difficult-to-attack appearance.

However, since the naval port was bombed two months ago, Karlsruhe has been filled with sunken warships and destroyed coastal defense positions. There is simply no extra energy for salvage and repair. The so-called "outstanding representative of European naval base towns" is heading towards the graveyard of the Swedish Royal Navy and even the twilight of the entire Swedish armed forces under the daily air raids and naval shelling.

Three days ago, the Britannian assault guns were already positioned on land less than five kilometers from the heart of the Swedish navy. As the saying goes, you can't reason with a damned devil. The Swedish soldiers guarding the last inch of the naval port complex still wouldn't listen to any attempts to surrender. They blew up all the bridges leading to the island and cowered in the southern buildings—looking like bank robbers hiding behind a counter, trembling at the sound of police sirens outside.

At 10:30 a.m., the summer sun will rise on the Scandinavian Peninsula horizon, and the troop transport planes and ships that are about to carry soldiers into the naval port have already figured out how they will celebrate this yet another victory.

However, just before the order to attack was given, the sound of giant cannons roaring from the sea echoed over Karlskrona.

Less than 15 kilometers away from them, 15-inch and 6-inch shells rained down on the commando team's starting point. When the news reached General Trossa's ears, the Britannian soldiers besieging the naval port realized that the Arkhangelsk, flying the Red Navy flag, had mysteriously slipped into the islands south of the port the previous night, delivering a blow to them at such a dangerous distance.

At this time, the Duke's main naval force was focused on Poland, and General Trossa had almost no military force available to deal with this short but sturdy old British battleship. General Amatulla, who had vowed to conduct anti-submarine surveillance before the general attack on the naval port, had, an hour earlier, led all four of her destroyers more than 20 nautical miles south in pursuit of a Red Navy submarine.

Fortunately, Amatulla only fell into the first half of the saying, "He who would risk his life for a small gain, but would be cautious about his life for a great cause." One of her long-awaited achievements was sinking the battleships of the 45th District forces face-to-face. Upon hearing the news, she disregarded the fact that her ships were still carrying anti-submarine rockets and turned directly towards the Arkhangelsk.

The ground forces' armed helicopters went ahead to locate the battleship's exact position. "Your Excellency, the Soviet battleship has left its original location and is currently transiting the islands southeast of Karlsruhe. The fog is too thick, making it difficult for us to track it."

"I don't care how shrewd the guy in District 45 is at steering, I just want you to follow him and use yourself as my low-level ship!"

However, as Amatulla sped back to the coast and the sun gradually dispersed the sea fog, the first thing to attack her among these scattered islands was the 180mm main guns of two Kirov-class cruisers.

……

"To Lieutenant General Golovko, we have completed our artillery support for the outskirts of Karskrona and are returning at full speed to Kalmar. May all comrades in the Baltic Fleet avenge this humiliation."

The Arkhangelsk retreated at full speed northeast along the Swedish coastline, while the two cruisers and six destroyers of the Baltic Fleet split into two single-line formations, darting out like two cobras beginning their hunt among the islands along the coast.

"Enemy destroyer! 18000 meters! Fire!" General Golovko stood on the bridge, with the Gorky below him and the Kirov behind him already pointing their triple main gun turrets at the enemy and unleashing their fire. The destroyer, carrying torpedoes and 130mm guns, took advantage of their cover and quickly approached.

The Red Navy's artillery fire surged wave after wave, and the four missile destroyers, amidst the splashing waves, resembled lotus leaves under a torrential downpour, delivering a merciless slap to Amatullah.

"We need orders, General!"

"Maintain a single file and advance at full speed!" Amatora shouted at the top of his lungs. "All ships, point your full attention at the lead enemy destroyer! I'm going to personally slaughter these bastards from District 45 who ruined my docking ceremony at Karlsruhe!"

"Yes, sir! Leading enemy destroyer! 14500 meters away, main gun locked on!" The fire control officer hesitated for a moment, then asked, "Sir, our anti-submarine rockets...?"

"Otherwise, why would I have told you to align your course with that guy at the front?"