CANNON FIRE ARC

Chapter 783: Chapter 33 Homeward Journey (6K)_2

Andreas: “Have the forces guarding the key area also retreated? Then who’s defending Ronied?”

“I don’t know, maybe the navy, maybe no one. It’s not our concern. We just need to try and stay alive.”

Andreas: “Just stay alive?”

“Yes, do you still entertain thoughts of glory for the Empire? We’ve already served the Empire loyally; we keep firing our machine guns because it’s more likely we’ll survive this way, don’t you think?”

Kosolek took a sip of his soup, clearly unable to accept the taste, furrowing his brow.

Andreas was about to sharply criticize the Sergeant’s words when he saw a group of three Constitutional Guards approaching.

…

He kept his mouth shut.

The Constitutional Guards donned black leather coats, wore silver badges, and carried MP40s, their complexions rosy, not at all like Andreas and the others, the unfortunate souls who had come from miles away.

Andreas couldn’t help but think that in the Guards’ backpacks, there must be luxuries like cigarettes and chewing gum, since they had always stayed in well-supplied rear areas.

Andreas hadn’t smoked in a long time.

The Guards approached Andreas; the leading Lieutenant glanced at their machine gun and said: “Well-maintained, commendable!”

Andreas simply nodded, while the Sergeant continued to drink the detestable meat soup.

Constitutional Guard Lieutenant: “Keep it up, we’re about to reach the new defense line. We won’t be retreating again; it’s time to really engage with the Anteans! This time, we’ve got reinforced concrete fortifications. We’ll definitely show them what we’re made of!”

Kosolek finally spoke out: “Indeed, I can’t wait, I’m sick of running! We did well at the Dibo River, held back the Antean offensive for a whole day, but upstream the Moravians messed up and let the Antean army through!”

The Constitutional Guard Lieutenant cursed: “Those damn second-class citizens! To become first-class citizens of the Empire, they need to show results! Always messing up, I say the Empire is ruined by these second-class citizens!”

The Prosen Soldiers drinking soup by the roadside heard the Guard’s comment and collectively agreed.

“Exactly, exactly!”

“These Moravians, they get better equipment than us! I’ve seen it myself, they have Half-track vehicles equipped with 20mm cannons; our division doesn’t even have one!”

“And the artillery as well, if we had the Moravians’ equipment, Rocossov wouldn’t have been able to break through the Dibo River so easily!”

“Right on, old Hansen, we all know, with the Moravians’ gear, you could capture Rocossov yourself!”

The last sentence was clearly spoken in jest.

Constitutional Guard Lieutenant: “Rocossov likes to scout ahead of the front line; there’s really a chance we might capture him alive. Who knows, war could turn around then, you might even end up being a Duke.”

After the Lieutenant’s comment, everyone fell silent.

Although most of them were common soldiers, due to the high level of education in Prosen, many soldiers had graduated from high school, and quite a few had learned some military cartography on their own.

Most of them knew that even if they managed to capture Rocossov now, it would be hard for Prosen to win the war.

The Constitutional Guard Lieutenant also became embarrassed, scratching his head, trying to break the silence.

Just then, the Quartermaster came with a stack of letters: “These are letters rescued from the Ronied Post Center. Give up on the letters already sent to the front; they’re gone for good. I’ll read the names, come get your letter.

“Hansen Redvik!”

The “old Hansen” who had just been mocked raised his hand: “Here, still alive!”

The Quartermaster threw the letter like a frisbee toward Hansen, then read the next name: “Hirok Pulmas.”

No response.

“Hirok!” the Quartermaster raised his voice.

Someone raised their hand: “He’s dead, I saw it with my own eyes. He tried to use a Magnetic Hand Grenade to destroy the enemy’s Rokossovsky Type, and was hit by a tank. From my angle, it looked like he was hit by the pointed part at the front of the tank’s body.”

The Quartermaster glanced at the Guards and snapped: “Watch your words, no one can be killed by the spike on the Rokossovsky Type!”

He stuffed the unclaimed letter into his bag and continued reading names.

Suddenly, Andreas heard the Quartermaster call out: “Andreas!”

“Here!” he raised his hand so abruptly he even spilled the meat soup, scattering the few bone scraps on the ground.

The Quartermaster tossed the letter like a frisbee, flying straight towards Andreas’s face.

The Sergeant joyfully opened the letter, finding not only a letter inside but also photos.

Kosolek leaned over: “Girlfriend?”

“No, my sister, and that’s her child next to her, my nephew, six years old.”

Kosolek: “Where’s her husband?”

“I don’t know, perhaps he’s farming.” Andreas opened the letter and began to read.

“Dear Andreas, I know it’s not time for the monthly letter, but I couldn’t help myself.

“They took your brother-in-law, said the Empire needs every man. Your brother-in-law is over forty and has painfully stiff legs whenever it rains; what can he do on the battlefield?

“But they still took him away. Your brother-in-law consoled me, saying he used to be a Sergeant, and wouldn’t have to do ordinary duties in the army.

“That’s the least of it; now bread is rationed, vegetable supplies have decreased too, and the radio broadcast says we’re always winning…”

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