Battlefield Priest's Diary

Chapter 31 Becoming a Charlatan Again

East Prussia, Insterburg, the temporary base of the First Army of the Russian Expeditionary Force.

General Paul von Lenningkamp was pacing anxiously.

He vaguely knew that he had been deceived by the Germans, and that the German troops opposite him were probably just a small number of feints.

Meanwhile, the main force had gone to block the rear of the Second Army Group.

Samsonov's telegram lay on the table; the arrogant fellow had now abandoned all pretense, his tone ridiculously humble.

"Bring your men and get closer as soon as possible. This is not for me, but for the Tsar."

Hey, this guy isn't a complete idiot, is he? He knows I'm not going to save the day for him, so he's bringing up His Majesty to try and force me to go.

but…

Should I lean on him?
Lenningkamp hesitated as he looked out the window.

Although he disliked Samsonov intensely, to be fair, the general did not intentionally want him killed. The reason was simple: the Second Army had a total of 23 men, and the blame for its complete annihilation was too great for him to bear.

Although His Majesty the Tsar may not seem to have inherited the decisiveness of his ancestors, he would not remain unresponsive if such a thing were to actually happen.

But now he dares not send troops to rescue them.

The reason is simple: in General Leningkamp's mindset, with only a few hundred thousand men in the Eighth Army, encircling the Second Army was simply a gamble. Given the German character, he had no reason to take such a risk.

Since the enemy dared to launch an attack, it is very likely that they received reinforcements. Hindenburg must have squeezed out 80,000 to 100,000 reserves from the western front or anywhere else before daring to go all out.

The Germans threw out all their chips and drew a big hand.

Should I really choose to call?
Based on the information he currently has, if he doesn't support the Second Army, then that guy Samsonov can only hold out for five days at most before his entire army is wiped out.

But if we blindly rush in, Hindenburg's reserves, which we don't know where he's placed, might get us stuck too. Once the troops are entangled, we could end up being wiped out.

Want to bet?
Damn it! What's going on over there right now?
With so many cavalrymen dispatched, couldn't anyone report accurate information?!

At that moment, there was a knock on the office door.

"Come in!" The general straightened his uniform, not wanting to reveal his hesitation to his subordinates.

"Yes, Your Excellency!" The adjutant pushed open the door, stood at attention, and then stood at attention with his chest puffed out.

Perhaps because the general had German ancestry, he usually paid great attention to these formalities between superiors and subordinates, but he wasn't in the mood for them today.

"If you have any bad news, just say it already! What kind of behavior is this, dawdling like this?!"

"No, sir, it's good news. Our cavalry, while patrolling along the river, discovered a small unit that claimed to belong to the 43rd Siberian Infantry Regiment of the Second Army and had broken out of the encirclement."

"Um?!"

The general immediately turned around. "Who is their commander?! Bring him to me immediately!"

"Your Excellency, this..."

"Why are you stammering?! Answer me!"

"Yes, sir!" The adjutant stood at attention again. "Sir, this unit is a bit strange. They have no officers leading them, and the leader is a priest."

"what?!"
-
Following the cavalry into the camp, Qin Hao secretly pressed the inside of his thighs twice when no one was paying attention; the area was probably chafed raw.

Although he had emphasized that he could not ride a horse, the Cossacks were ordered to take him to see the general as soon as possible.

Your Excellency, General?

The Russian army has only two generals on this land: one is Samsonov, who is probably about to commit suicide, and the other is Leninkamp, ​​the commander of the First Army. The tables have turned; he was just using Samsonov's name to intimidate that idiot Kazman, and now he's about to meet him in person.

However, he was not worried about being exposed. Only a few people, including Kazman, had seen his letter of introduction, and none of them broke through the encirclement.

Of course, in order to dispel this guy's suspicions, I need to further embellish my identity.

“We’ve arrived, Father.” The officer leading the way stopped in front of a stone house and then bowed slightly. “Excuse me, we need to check if you have any weapons.”

"This is your duty, please." Qin Hao once again adopted his charlatan persona and spread his hands.

A guard stepped forward to take action, but was stopped by his adjutant.

“They’re too rude, I’ll do it.” The adjutant gave Qin Hao a quick body search, without touching the cross throughout the process.

"Please come in, Father. His Excellency the General is waiting for you inside." After confirming that everything was alright, the adjutant stood at attention and opened the door.

Qin Hao took a deep breath and pushed open the door to enter.

With his feet on the pine floor, Qin Hao entered the inner room. A figure in a dark green officer's uniform stood with his back to him, slowly turning around after hearing footsteps.

The man was around 60 years old, with gray hair and light blue eyes. He sized up the guest's attire and prepared to speak. But Qin Hao, sitting opposite him, spoke first.

"Sir, we meet again! Thank God you are still in good health."

"Hmm?" The general looked puzzled. "Father, have we met before?"

"Ten years ago, in Fengtian, China, you and General Samsonov prayed for the outcome of the war in front of St. Mikhail's Church. I was in the choir at the time." The black-haired man had a mysterious smile on his face.

“Hmm…now that you mention it…” Lenningkamp rubbed his temples, as if trying to dig out his memories.

He did indeed spend over a year in Fengtian, and he even went to church with that idiot Samsonov to pray for good fortune. "I remember there was indeed a group of young people in the choir back then, you were..."

“That’s right, I’m in the crowd.” Qin Hao nodded slightly. This was an excuse he had thought of long ago. Just like how Easterners can’t distinguish Europeans from each other, the reverse is also true.

He only needs to describe the scene exactly as it happened based on historical records, and the other person will feel a sense of familiarity.

After all, an Asian face I saw ten years ago should have become a blur by now.

Sure enough, the next moment, Renningkamp patted his forehead and said, "I remember now, you're different now. You're not wearing your choir robes anymore."

"Thank you for remembering. It was an unforgettable memory for me." Qin Hao bowed slightly.

"But why did you come to Russia, and why are you here?" the general asked.

“A year after I met you, the church was burned down by General Samsonov, who, of course, gave us some money.”

"Yes, I know about that. That clumsy bear was too reckless." The general nodded, the doubt on his face lessening.

In 1905, the situation in the Russo-Japanese War changed abruptly, and the Russian army withdrew from Fengtian. In order to prevent the church from becoming a Japanese fortress, the garrison simply burned it to the ground. Few people know about this.

"Later, I heard the voice of the Lord, began to practice asceticism, and embarked on a pilgrimage. Perhaps feeling guilty, His Excellency the General provided me with financial assistance, and with his help, I eventually became a priest." At this point, Qin Hao handed over the documents he was carrying.

After quickly flipping through the documents, Lenningkamp looked up at the priest in black and asked, "So you've come here to seek refuge with that stupid bear?"

"No, I sensed the risks lurking in the fog and wanted to warn General Samsonov." Qin Hao shook his head regretfully. "Unfortunately, it's probably too late."

"What does this mean?" Renningkamp frowned, about to speak, when there was an urgent knock on the door.

"Your Excellency, urgent news from the front! We have just received word that His Excellency Samsonov committed suicide by shooting himself half an hour ago!"

(End of this chapter)