Cannon Fire Arc

At this moment, Wang Zhong was nearly frantic inside the warehouse.
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——Damn it, don't shoot down the recon plane! Where did this Air Force come from?

In fact, it wasn't fair to blame the Air Force, because thanks to Wang Zhong's good relationship with them, the First Mobile Group Army, although lacking the authority to command the Air Force, often benefited from their care.

It was commonplace for Air Force fighter jets to swing by for a visit while also providing air defense, and the Air Force bombers helping to destroy the enemy's logistics were frequent occurrences.

There was also providing aerial reconnaissance or dispatching BI-2s directly onto the battlefield to deliver reconnaissance photos—the list goes on.

Now, by all logic, knowing that the Army Group headquarters at Yeisk had been air-raided, one should be grateful for the immediate assistance from the Air Force rushing to support them.

But at this moment, Wang Zhong wished they weren't so diligent.

This deception maneuver was hastily concocted yesterday, and after ordering the preparation of decoy tanks last night, Wang Zhong immediately reported to the Air Force to let the enemy's recon planes through today.

However, the Air Force's interceptor units apparently didn't receive the order and went straight for the engines of the recon plane!

Then the Prosen fighters arrived, chasing the MiG-3 away from the recon plane, and Wang Zhong breathed a sigh of relief, again praying that the recon plane wouldn't go down.

He was even having visual hallucinations, seeing the recon plane's engine hit, suddenly falling off, and then the compromised wing breaking away as the plane plummeted towards the ground.

Fortunately, none of that happened, and the fighter jet flew out of Wang Zhong's sight unharmed.

Wang Zhong let out a sigh of relief and switched his view only to find that everyone was staring at him.

"Uh..." Wang Zhong summoned all his quick-thinking talents and came up with an excuse, "I was just mentally simulating changes in the battlefield situation and relaxed after seeing a favorable outcome!"

Wait, wouldn't saying that actually lead to even more far-fetched speculation?

But to be honest, being misunderstood like this was quite amusing. Seeing how outlandish the rumors about oneself could get was also a form of entertainment.

For example, the mysterious custom of the elite guards urinating on the crotch of an enemy corpse after killing it, which Wang Zhong found entertaining, had already evolved into many strange rules.

For instance, the new recruits in the guards would carry chalk to write on the enemy's helmets after killing them in hand-to-hand combat, marking their kills for when they'd return to urinate.

So Wang Zhong looked at Pavlov and Popov, seeing their puzzled expressions.

Pavlov: "The anti-aircraft units just reported they saw Air Force fighters attacking enemy planes. Should we remind the Air Force not to interfere with this recon plane?"

Wang Zhong: "Doing that would give us away, just let it be. If not today, there's still tomorrow!"

"Okay then." Pavlov nodded, "We'll send another telegram to the Air Force tonight, reminding them not to patrol over our area for the time being."

"That's fine." Wang Zhong had barely finished his sentence when the phone rang.

As it was right by his side, he picked up the receiver directly: "Corps Command, this is Rokossovsky speaking, go ahead."

Brother Peter's voice came through the receiver: "General, the enemy recon plane has lost an engine on one side, I don't understand much about planes, can it make it back to the base? We should advise the Air Force not to attack the recon plane."

Wang Zhong: "Do you hear any sounds of fire?"

"No."

"Are there any other unusual sounds?" Wang Zhong asked again.

"No, other than the sound of one less engine, the recon plane is operating normally."

"Thank you, I'll take care of the rest," Wang Zhong said and then hung up the phone.

He had actually seen from the overhead view that there was no fire, but the mod only allowed for surface visuals, which is why he asked Brother Peter if there were any unusual sounds from inside the plane.

Since there were no anomalies, all that was left was to hope for good luck for the Prosen pilots.

Popov: "Was that Brother Peter on the phone?"

Wang Zhong: "Yes, he heard the Prosen recon plane had one engine down, but he didn't hear any sounds of burning, so they must have extinguished the fire successfully."

Pavlov sighed in relief: "I was worried when the anti-aircraft units reported that the recon plane was on fire."

Popov: "I'm not familiar with planes, how was the fire put out? With a fire extinguisher?"

Wang Zhong gestured with his hands as he explained: "As long as you cut off the fuel supply while making a shallow dive, adjusting the propeller pitch to let the wind blow over the engine as much as possible, there's a chance the fire will go out naturally."

Popov raised his eyebrows: "You really know your way around planes."

Of course, he knew all about the worth of a War Thunder air combat Brahmin!

Wang Zhong spread his hands: "Previously I made a point of showing my familiarity with planes to win the Air Force's favor, so I took the time to learn more about Air Force-related knowledge."

"...Just to get on better terms with the Air Force?" Popov asked.

"Exactly."

Popov clicked his tongue: "One day you'll command a Front Army, why not just order the Air Force directly then?"

"No, it's not the same, carrying out orders plainly and carrying them out with enthusiasm give different results," Wang Zhong said.

Pavlov interjected: "But this time, the overly diligent Air Force nearly spoiled our plan."

"That's a different matter. Think about how they'll approach our enemies with the same zeal in the future; that's not a bad thing, is it?" Wang Zhong spread his hands again.

————

On the outskirts of Yarvik, at the Ant Air Force field airport.

"Damn it!" Colonel Koryonin, the new commander of the 11th Pursuit Squadron, cursed, "You almost shot down the reconnaissance plane and ruined General Rokossovsky's big plan!"

Among the scolded pilots, one tried to defend themselves, "We just wanted to leave a few bullet holes in the recon plane to make it look authentic. We weren't using cannons anymore, just machine guns, and unfortunately, we happened to hit the engine. Since when are these machine guns so destructively accurate?"

Several pilots chimed in, "Exactly, usually when we hit an enemy plane with our machine guns, you see sparks flying, visible from three hundred meters away, but the plane just wouldn't go down."

"Enough! Don't make excuses!" Colonel Koryonin yelled, "I told you during today's mission to keep your distance from the recon plane!"

"Wouldn't that be too obvious?" some pilots still protested.

The Colonel said word by word, "That's still better than not being able to return the film to the enemy's hands! If this happens again tomorrow, I'll twist your heads off! Dismissed!"

The pilots turned and left the Colonel's tent, dejected, and as soon as they were outside, they made faces at each other.

Colonel Koryonin could only sigh at the sight of these "favored children of the skies."

————

Major Hans Fred of the Prosen Air Force did not know how long he had been unconscious.

As soon as he opened his eyes, he heard the sound of the plane's defensive machine guns firing.

For a moment, he thought he was still in the air, with the gunner fighting against enemy fighters.

Then he realized the glass in front of him was shattered, and past the remaining steel frame was the tall green grass of South Ante Prairie.

—Right, the plane had made an emergency landing.

What was that gunfire aiming at?

Struggling to stand, Fred checked himself over and confirmed he wasn't injured. At that moment, he heard shouts in Ante from outside.

Guerrillas!

He heard the gunner cursing as he fired.

Then he heard the sound of a Luger pistol firing, probably the other flight crew members.

Fred immediately crawled to the cockpit and saw the pilot, his lower body covered in blood, firing his sidearm outside.

Fred looked out the window but saw nothing but grass.

But the Ante People were definitely there, because the grass was speaking in Ante.

Seeing Fred, the pilot shouted, "Go take the film out of the photo gun! And the film from the camera fixed to the fuselage! Get these to the airport for developing! It's very important!"

Fred nodded and squeezed through the narrow door leading to the fuselage.

At that moment, a rifle bullet hit the plane's skin, piercing a small hole, and the setting sun's rays shot through the gap, forming a fiery red line.

As Fred crawled past that line, he felt like he could be hit by a bullet at any moment, sweat pouring down, his adrenaline pumping wildly in his heart.

He had just reached the photo gun when he grabbed the tool box fixed next to it, prepared to unscrew and retrieve the film, when outside a roar of anger from the Ante People ensued, followed by something slamming against the plane's hatch.

Fred despaired.

In that instant, engine noises approached from outside, and the Ante People shouted something.

The slamming stopped, and the constantly firing gunner yelled out, "Ha-ha! Run, come on, run!"

Major Fred had no idea what was happening but worked as quickly as possible to dismantle the photo gun.

As he carefully packed the film into a specially designed metal box, the sound of the engines drew closer—clearly the noise of tanks.

Then someone shouted in Prosen, "How many are still alive?"

It seemed the rear-guard forces had arrived.

The pilot called out, "We have important intelligence that must be sent back at once! Please help us!"

Major Fred, holding the metal box with the film, tried the cabin door and found it hopelessly deformed and jammed by the Ante People's attempts to break in, so he opened a small, maintenance door beside it and struggled through.

He saw a No. 2 tank and two half-track armored vehicles, clearly a patrol squad from the rear.

The commander of the squad, a lieutenant, saw Fred emerge and promptly saluted, "Major, how may I assist you?"

"There's another film on the other side of the plane. I need the fastest transport to take me back to the field airport at Kalingrad as soon as I get the film. It's of the utmost importance!"

The lieutenant said, "We have a three-wheeled motorcycle patrolling nearby; I can call it here."

"Good," the Major paused, then suddenly remembering the guerrillas, asked, "Is guerrilla activity frequent around here?"

The lieutenant gave a wry smile, "All too frequent."

Major Fred, with his hands on his hips, looked out over the South Ante Prairie where the Ante guerrillas had infiltrated, pondered for a few seconds, and then sighed, "I'll take the tank."

The lieutenant said, "The right choice, especially as the sun is about to set. At night, when traveling, the half-track is not as reliable as the tank."