Codegease: Air and Land Warfare 1946

"Uh, well... just a moment, Lieutenant Colonel. We need to go through the records, which may take a long time..."

"Well... I'll have to trouble you to go back and rest for a while. I'll let you know when the time comes?"

……

The city of Berlin had fallen silent, but in Beskoye, dozens of kilometers away from this labyrinth of brick and tile ruins, Marshal Zhukov was sweating profusely in the approaching winter.

"The bridges over Kostyan and Frankfurt am Oder are all destroyed..." He nervously tapped his pencil cap on the map in front of him. "Sigh, now the entire Soviet army stationed in Germany is almost split in two. As for supplies, the south is okay, but the north can only rely on the Szczecin line. We don't even know where we can build a pontoon bridge..."

The course of the war was becoming increasingly unfavorable to the Soviet army.

"Comrade Zhukov, here is a preliminary report on casualties and losses that has just been sent." An officer holding a telegram walked over.

"The army groups? You read them out."

"During the more than ten days of siege until last night's airborne assault, the losses of each army group were relatively small. The 8th Guards Army on the eastern front suffered only about 900 casualties, the 3rd Assault Army on the northern front suffered 679 casualties, and the 5th Assault Army on the southern front suffered 802 casualties. The total personnel losses are estimated to fluctuate between 2500 and 3000, with 34 tanks and self-propelled artillery pieces lost, and the air force losing 51 combat aircraft of various types."

"The casualties in last night's operations are very concerning." The officer took a breath. "The 8th Guards Army reported that the number of dead, wounded, and missing was probably less than a thousand. The losses of artillery and vehicles were not significant, about 20 pieces and 30 vehicles respectively. The 47th Army suffered the most casualties because most of it was in the enemy's airborne zone, with the loss of about 2000 soldiers and more than 100 vehicles and artillery pieces."

"The 16th Air Army suffered considerable damage, with three field airfields in the eastern region destroyed. Fortunately, the pilots who were not on duty suffered minimal losses due to timely transfer and evacuation. The 1st and 2nd Guards Tank Armies, as well as the 3rd and 5th Assault Armies in the north and south respectively, have suffered casualties estimated at around 600 people."

"Finally, taking into account the losses of Polish reinforcements, the enemy inflicted approximately 4000 casualties on us last night, destroyed about 180 tanks, self-propelled artillery pieces and transport vehicles; lost about 200 aircraft, most of which were destroyed on the ground by enemy airborne forces, and a large amount of supplies stockpiled between Berlin and the Oder River were also lost."

"That's right, Marshal."

"Okay, I understand. Put it there." Zhukov looked at the map without even looking up.

"Oh, and one more thing. The 96th Guards Infantry Corps, west of Berlin, spotted an unidentified plane flying west last night. It was confirmed by border troops that it crashed in British-occupied territory less than a kilometer from our border."

"Oh?" The marshal raised his head slightly. "Did you get the photos?"

"It has already been obtained by NKVD's specialists, and barring any unforeseen circumstances, it is on its way now."

"Good, I understand."

Section 153, Chapter 98: Defensive Formations

In late winter, sunrise in Germany is quite late, but even so, you can't see the sun's halo still attached to the horizon, which means it's a bit late now.

In a town southeast of Berlin, a group of Soviet soldiers, having just recovered from a restless night's journey, were gathered together. A major had just stepped onto a specially stacked wooden crate in front of them.

At that moment, in the crowd, Lieutenant Lemilia and his comrades stood together, watching their unfamiliar superior deliver his words.

"Hmm, this substitute looks a bit like you, Comrade Ivanov."

"No way, his beard is way more unkempt than mine..."

"Quiet down, comrades," the major began. "I am Major Andriavsky. I am very sorry, but your regimental commander was wounded during the previous retreat and is temporarily hospitalized in a field hospital. Therefore, I will be in charge of your infantry regiment for the foreseeable future. I hope that during this time, we can quickly integrate, forget the humiliation of last night's narrow defeat, and wipe out all the bandits who rushed out of Berlin."

"Here, I'll reiterate our orders: you are responsible for guarding the position to the north of this town, directly opposite the farmland and adjacent to the highway. This is the only place the enemy can pass through if they want to advance south. We must hold this position to ensure the safety of our comrades who are resting in the rear, and to create conditions for our future counterattack. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Major!"

The soldiers slowly left, except for one squad of soldiers—Anton and his guard company now needed to begin the mission of protecting another military leader.

“Come with me, Lieutenant.” The major gestured for him and his men to follow him. “Let’s go back to headquarters together.”

"As ordered."

"By the way, your name is Vasilyev, if I remember correctly?" The major looked at him. "How long have you been the commander of the guard company?"

"It's been more than half a year. To be honest, after working in such a back-office position for so long, I'm starting to feel a bit uncomfortable."

"Only the living can create more value for the motherland, comrade, this is also the reason why you were destined to live."

Upon hearing this, Anton shrugged.

"I don't think so, Major. Life and death on the battlefield are just a slightly painful revolving lantern. No one has special privileges."

"Oh? So, you mean you've seen your superior die in front of you? Or what?"

"I'm not quite sure, but have you ever experienced what it's like to have a sergeant killed every two days, a captain replaced every ten days, and a Soviet citizen killed every minute? Yes, that's right here on the banks of the Volga River three years ago."

……

Not long after, while Anton continued to sit next to the regimental command post reading and writing, Lemilia and his soldiers were already waiting in the trenches they had dug earlier.

"Ah, phew—" He lit a cigarette and took a satisfying drag. "In situations like this where I have to get up early for a mission, it's best to light a cigarette to shake off the drowsiness."

"Is cigarette really that effective, Comrade Petrovsky?" a soldier with a water bottle said. "I get energized after drinking vodka, but now I can only sip water and fantasize about the taste of alcohol."

"Hmm, you can have it. Anyway, this cigarette seems a bit damp and has gone bad." The lieutenant pursed his lips, handed the cigarette butt to the soldier, then stood up, walked to the edge of the trench in front of him, leaned against the DShK heavy machine gun mounted there, and looked towards the northern horizon.

The smoke from last night's chaotic battle still lingers in the sky, making the already approaching winter clouds even more gloomy and dark. The German landscape resembles a wad of trampled waste paper; a quick glance reveals ruined houses, withered bushes, and a few abandoned cannons faintly visible. The chaotic scene is almost unbearable to look at—it's simply uncomfortable to the eye.

However, the lieutenant was no poet, and what he considered "a jumble of notes like weeds and wildflowers" to write in the newspaper was of more concern to him than anything else.

On a sandbag to his right rear sat two comrades with sniper rifles—yes, you seem to remember, the lieutenant originally had two female snipers under his command, right? So where did these two new faces come from?

……

"Have you found Comrades Catherine and Ilya?"

"No, Lieutenant, no one here has been able to find them."

Last night, during a somewhat hasty retreat as the lieutenant and his comrades broke through the various surprise attacks by the Iron Dolls, these two female soldiers inadvertently got lost—they are called lost because no one saw them shot and killed, and no neighboring units reported that they had rejoined them, at least not within the Eighth Guards Army.

He couldn't quite describe the feeling. As a young man with limited education, Lemilia didn't know how to put it into words. The two female soldiers who often bickered with him were now in an uncertain situation.

However, just as he was about to lie down and play with the pebbles in front of the trench, the phone rang behind him!

"Hello!" The lieutenant turned around and grabbed the receiver in three quick steps. The comrade next to him, who was smoking a cigarette, saw him answer a few times with a serious expression and then threw the receiver back.

"Get into battle positions, comrades! The enemy is coming!"

The Soviet soldiers immediately perked up, putting aside everything unrelated to combat—water cups, books—and quickly checking their weapons. The crisp whispers of gun bolts echoed throughout the trenches, sounding like raindrops falling on the ground.

The lieutenant also squatted down to one side, huddled in a tunnel, his head sticking out, and looked into the distance through binoculars.

"Hmm..." Through the telescope, he could already see those familiar steel puppets appearing in his field of vision.

But Lemilia had a rather uneasy feeling at this moment, but it didn't come from these humanoid machines that had repeatedly caused his infantry to suffer losses in Berlin.

"Why isn't there any artillery fire?" he muttered, looking around at their position—there was no black smoke or sand flying up from the artillery shells hitting the ground, and some of the comrades' cigarette smoke hadn't even dissipated yet.

"Be careful, comrades. We never know when those cannons might fire. Keep your eyes peeled."

Gradually, the number of giant steel figures in the telescope increased, but the cannon fire that should have come from a great distance, the terrifying, alarm-like long hiss of shells streaking across the sky, and the devastating explosions upon landing, were nowhere to be seen, just like truant kids.

"A racing boat..." Well, it seems that the routine issue of dodging artillery fire, coupled with the lieutenant's habitual suspicion as a battle-hardened veteran, led to the Soviet soldiers on the position wasting a little bit of their time...

"Alright, comrade." He turned his head to the soldier operating the DShK heavy machine gun, "Wait for my order before firing."

No sooner had the words left his mouth than the ZIS-3 field guns on the distant anti-tank positions began firing 76mm shells in the direction the puppets had come from. Instantly, the sounds of gunfire and artillery fire mingled together on the position, sounding from afar like a large pot of boiling soup, bubbling away with the roar of shells.

Clearly, the twenty-odd KMFs that had just appeared in Lemilia's telescope became the first diners to taste the Soviet-style funeral soup amidst the fiery commotion.

The lieutenant saw it clearly: when they appeared, their formation resembled a flock of birds about to migrate, advancing in a neat, staggered line. Now, after this pile of shells landed beside them, splashing dirt and smashing the vehicles of two unfortunate men, these "birds" seemed genuinely startled by a shotgun, their orderly formation instantly turning into a jumble of pebbles rolling haphazardly down the hillside.

"Fire!"

The infantrymen on the position began firing their guns. To be fair, at this distance, these bullets were no different from throwing rocks at the KMF's steel armor, but the pressure they exerted was still considerable. In the sudden storm of bullets, a few mannequins twisted and turned, constantly contorting themselves with their practiced skills, while the rest continued running in straight lines, only to see shells flying towards them. Then, along with the dust and rubble, they were caught by the sparks of the explosion, lifted high, and then scattered to the ground.

"Maintain the suppression! Comrades! Don't stop!"

Lemilia continued shouting from the trench, while the dozens of Soviet soldiers holding their ground, along with comrades from other companies in the adjacent trench, gently raked the empty ground around the advancing puppets with their bullets. Could this repel them? Of course not. The enemies inside the puppets weren't fools, waiting to be attacked; they were, after all, trained soldiers.

"Ah, well, looks like I'll have to keep my distance." The lieutenant no longer needed binoculars; he could easily see with the naked eye that some of the men had suddenly stopped, while others continued to advance. What they had in common was that they had all raised their machine guns and rocket launchers, pointing the muzzles at his position.

Amidst the rain of bullets, KMF's large-caliber bullets and artillery shells rained down on the Soviet positions, instantly turning the ground around the soldiers into chaos. Amidst the fiery red roses of exploding shells, machine gun bullets from the mechs, like shark teeth, pierced the trenches, creating holes the size of bucket openings. These sharp teeth whipped up mud and sand a story high, instantly shrouding the entire position in a thin veil, forcing the soldiers to take cover in low positions.

"Damn it." Lemilia was driven underground by billowing black smoke, and someone's helmet—yes, it was bloody—was handed to him.

However, this was merely a drop in the ocean in terms of suppression, because the Soviet positions were too vast and their firepower too abundant, while the number of KMFs was simply too small. Just as these steel knights were still busy crushing Lemilia and his men, on the neighboring positions, several 45mm anti-tank guns, amidst the low roar of the ZIS-3, emitted a crisp, rifle-like blast.

These smaller-caliber shells, frankly speaking, were practically useless against German tanks when they charged into Soviet infantry positions, except perhaps for opportunities to flank or maneuver their supporting infantry. But this time was different. A few shells struck, one of which luckily bit off the leg of a running mannequin, turning it into a rolling pin on the ground, covered in electronic components and dazzling sparks; another hit a mothball still firing on the move, the bullet penetrating his vehicle's torso, sending him flying backward amidst the blood and flames in the cockpit, crashing into a pile of scrap metal.

Gradually, more and more KMFs were destroyed on the ground. Almost all the dolls hid in shell craters or behind their destroyed teammates, crawling and continuing to fight back against the Soviet positions.

Only the one charging at the very front, its nimble body dodging all the Soviet artillery fire aimed at it, gripping a spear in one hand and a machine gun in the other, gradually approached the trench. The Soviet soldiers could even see a small star painted on its chest.

"Don't rush, comrade, there's still some distance to go." The lieutenant stood up from the trench again and placed his hand in front of the DShK machine gun team that was about to fire.

What was he thinking as he watched the haphazardly running puppet?

What should we use to destroy this arrogant fellow? Of course we should, but not by attacking from the front lines.

Just as the puppet stopped shooting and was about to make a dashing leap, a fiery sunflower suddenly burst forth from beneath its feet!

"Hmm! You've hit the bullseye!"

In the hours leading up to this battle, the various landmines that the comrades had planted finally took effect. The moment the doll's legs were crushed by the sunflower, it was like a roller skater suddenly being kicked from behind, thrown more than a meter off the ground before crashing solidly to the ground.

"Follow it! Comrade!" Lemilia was overjoyed and then ordered the DShK machine gun to tear at the doll's steel armor.

But that wasn't the end of it! Clearly, the guy inside the dummy had used up all his bad luck in his last minute. The instant the KMF landed, it triggered another anti-tank mine. Then, enveloped in layers of flames and sand, the dummy abruptly stopped. But when the smoke cleared, no one wanted to admit that the thing blown into a cauliflower shape was actually that once-mighty giant! Its spear, stuck in the ground at high speed, served as a rather undignified tombstone—was that all?

"Ouch..." The lieutenant chuckled as he watched the rotten thing, emitting a black stench, turn into a plume of smoke signaling defeat, and drive back the KMFs who were still putting up a last-ditch resistance.

"We've succeeded! Comrades!"

"Hurrah!—"

On the battlefield, the soldiers cheered merrily, shouting the raucous words of a fighting nation at the retreating enemy.

Just then, the cockpit hatch of the puppet that had stepped on two landmines opened. However, Lemilia didn't pay much attention. Looking at the figure that had fallen out, engulfed in flames and moving stiffly, it was clear that it was entering the countdown to being completely burned to death.

"Where are you going, Comrade Petrovsky?" The machine gunner in Dishka watched as the lieutenant climbed out of the trench and headed in the direction the enemy had come from.

The lieutenant turned around and gestured to the long, white object he had just put in his mouth.

"I'll light a fire, I'll be right back, hey!"

Section 154, Chapter 99: Beneath the Red Flag of Rest

Inside the Reichstag building, things were still busy, as four generals were there, accompanied by more staff officers, sitting at the map table in the command center.

"General, news has just come from the vanguard assault force in the east of the city. In their pursuit operation to expand the occupied area, they have encountered an organized defensive counterattack by the Soviet army along the entire front. Their offensive is currently severely hampered, and no unit has been able to cause sufficient damage to the enemy's defenses."

"Oh? Has the enemy deployed any defensive equipment?" Duke Sassler asked.

"According to reports from soldiers who withdrew from the front lines, they were attacked by a variety of heavy firepower from the enemy, including heavy machine guns, artillery, and tanks. Occasionally, fighter jets would come to their aid. In addition, according to reports from many pilots, the enemy had laid a considerable number of landmines."

"My God, they organized such a strong defensive line so quickly?" The generals seemed somewhat surprised by the answer. "Okay, I understand."

"So what should we do now, generals?" Lieutenant General Wood stroked his beard. "The KMF air force is not fully rested yet, and a large-scale offensive will have to wait until at least tomorrow. We don't have that many troops to send out right now."

“Since the enemy’s defenses are so strong, we need to conserve our strength and implement a scorched-earth policy,” the Duke said, explaining his plan. “Let’s use small, dispersed squads to harass the enemy on a small scale, and then erode their positions tonight, perhaps even making a breakthrough.”

"I disagree!" General Windsor refused on the spot. "I don't know how many troops the enemy has lost, but the transfer of several army groups is not something that can be easily recovered from. Since our pursuit force is limited, why not concentrate our limited forces together and launch a fierce attack on one of the enemy's garrisons?"

“But… what should we do about the enemy’s counterattack?” the Duke asked him in return.

"Are you sure these enemies, still stuck in their plains positions with infantry and towed artillery, can muster the strength to launch a counterattack right now?" The general's expression was resolute. "If they're so eager to drive us out and destroy our still-recovering morale, why don't they just push their outdated tank army and those aircraft that still use propellers as their engines right now into Berlin, making it impossible for us to even stay in this command center?"

"General, if I can come up with the idea of ​​recovering our strength before attacking the enemy, then the Soviet army will think of it too." The Duke's tone was calm yet cautious. "Moreover, General Marendor's repeated setbacks in recent days, and the enemy's repeated humiliations in local battles last night, all of this proves that the Soviet army's soft and hard power are now far superior to the EU's insignificant troops. Rash advances for us at this point would only hasten our demise, understand?"

The three newly arrived generals each held their own opinions, making the atmosphere quite tense. Only Maren sighed softly and looked away.

Who knows what he went through just a few days ago when he was so arrogant? At least I guess he can now hallucinate the rumble of dozens or even hundreds of Soviet tanks running together.

Just then, a young officer entered the command center, carrying a folder.

"Report!" He saluted.

"What do you need, Lieutenant Colonel Eddie Hill?" Compared to the other three, Marendor recognized the name of his subordinate very well.

"Generals, the Soviet soldiers and Nazi German civilians we captured during the night raid have largely assembled near the Brandenburg Gate. If it is convenient for you, please lead the group there for inspection."

"Oh?" The generals used this to ease the tension.

"Then...shall we go, Your Grace?"

"Please go first..."

Seeing the three of them take a step, Marendor hesitated for a moment.

“Hey? General?” the Duke turned around and asked him, “Aren’t you happy to mock these enemies from District 45? Why don’t you join us?”

"Ah...ah, I...ah, it's nothing, I just need to think about something...you go ahead, cough cough..."