Chapter 735 -73: The air is trembling, as if the sky is on fire
Argesukov, early morning.
The whole city was unable to sleep because the distant sound of artillery never ceased.
Alekseyevna was no different as she sat by the window, leaning against the wall, listening to the distant artillery.
As soon as dawn broke, Aunt Luna hurriedly descended the stairs, rushed to the reception desk, and peering through the window, asked Alekseyevna, “Has the artillery sound gotten closer?”
Alekseyevna replied, “Even if it has, we can’t tell. We aren’t seasoned soldiers born and bred on the battlefield; we’ve only heard artillery once in these two years.”
That one time, of course, referred to when Argesukov fell.
...
Aunt Luna sighed heavily, “That’s true. I just had a dream. I dreamt of Xie Na who used to live on the third floor. I told her we were going to win, that Argesukov was going to be liberated, and then Xie Na covered her mouth and started crying—despite being over there, she still weeps.”
Xie Na was raped and killed by Prosens after they entered the city.
Alekseyevna stood up and took a scarf from the cabinet next to the reception desk.
"See this scarf?” the old lady said, “Every time the Prosens did something evil, I would add a knot to it. Two years have passed
With a gentle flick of her hand, the scarf unfolded and fell to the ground, rolling forward continuously.
Aunt Luna was slightly stunned and asked subconsciously, “Do you remember them all? So many knots!”
This 𝓬ontent is taken from freeweɓnovel.cѳm.
"I can’t remember,” the old lady sighed. “Actually, making this scarf was just to calm my inner rage.”
Aunt Luna nodded in understanding, “I get it. I’ve hidden a photo of a Prosen Officer who managed our block in my room’s closet. Whenever I’m angry, I stab his face with an awl! I’ve already changed the photo five times; the others were all punctured.”
After finishing, Aunt Luna suddenly lowered her voice and gestured toward the direction of a hidden door, “What did they say?”
Alekseyevna sighed, “The Prosens plan to massacre the city, so they’re preparing to rebel to protect the townspeople.”
Aunt Luna: “That so? How about we join in? We’ve been running errands for the guerrillas and the Resistance Organization for two years, why not give us a gun and let us fight?”
Alekseyevna sighed, “You make it sound easy, but fighting means death! Haven’t we seen enough of it these years? Once the rebellion starts, who knows how many of these kids won’t come back.”
Aunt Luna: “That’s why we need to do it. Look, for the Prosens to shoot us, they’ll have to use their bullets, right? The guerrilla fighter, Petruchuk, who was recuperating at my house, said that if we keep zigzagging while running, like a snake, the Prosens will need at least 10 bullets to hit us, 10 bullets!
"And Prosens’ machine guns can only fire 100 rounds before they have to change barrels. You get it, when they’re changing barrels, they can’t shoot. So, ten old women like us can ensure ten young men survive!
"Think about it, Alekseyevna! We are all past menopause, we can’t have children anymore, and after liberation, we wouldn’t be able to work much, only able to wash clothes. But if ten young men survive! They could build houses, cultivate crops!”
Alekseyevna shook her head, “No, if we go, they’ll be distracted protecting us.”
"So we just sit here and watch them die? Besides those old soldiers, most of them are just young adults!”
At that moment, the hidden door opened, and Sherlov, fully armed, emerged. Noticing Aunt Luna, he seemed surprised, “Auntie, why are you down here? Stay hidden at home today; the fighting could be fierce. If the gunfire dies down, run immediately—that might mean we’ve been defeated by the Prosens, and they’ll come seeking revenge.” ɽ𝒶Νô𝔟ΕṤ
Aunt Luna asked, “Couldn’t it possibly mean that you’ve won?”
Sherlov laughed, “That’s possible, so keep your radio on. I know you have one. If we win, it’ll be broadcasted on the radio, playing the songs composed by General Rocossov!”
Aunt Luna: “Which one?”
"Just play them in rotation!” a young man behind Sherlov laughed.
The old lady saw him and immediately frowned, “Why are you going too? You’re not even of age!”
"Sherlov agreed to let me go!”
Alekseyevna thought for a moment and said, “No, you have another task. Leave the city and tell the Ante Army outside that the Prosens intend to massacre the city, and they must hurry in, otherwise, they’ll only find ruins!”
The young man: “The underground church district has already sent many people out; they won’t miss one!”
Suddenly Sherlov said, “You told me you were very familiar with every street in the city, right?”
"Yes, I used to deliver newspapers and milk as a kid. With a supply ticket, I could exchange good things at the church shop. I got a basketball and new shoes.”
Sherlov said, “Then this honorable task is yours. To avoid being discovered by the Prosens, hand over your rifle.”
The young man’s face scrunched up.
Sherlov pulled out a sleek Prosen pistol, “This was obtained a few days ago when we ambushed a Deputy Officer; take this for self-defense.”
The young man immediately beamed, handed over the rifle to a guerrilla fighter, and took the pistol.
Sherlov said, “Go now, while it’s still not fully light. Get out of the city quickly and find our forces!”
"Yes!”
The young man was about to head for the main entrance, but Alekseyevna swiftly grabbed him, “Use the back door!”
"Okay!” The young man dashed away.
Sherlov said, “Then we’re leaving, old lady.”
Alekseyevna wanted to say more but ended up just nodding slightly, “Go well.”
Sherlov opened the main door, checked the street, and then strode out.
Guerrilla fighters followed him.
Sherlov: “Don’t follow so closely! Battle formation! Makarov, don’t tell me you don’t get it either? Spread out!”
Guerrilla fighters spread out into a loose battle formation. Over the past two years, they had killed plenty of Prosens, but launching a formal attack like this was a first for most of them.
Alekseyevna watched through the window as they departed.
Soon, the sound of machine gun fire came from a distance, likely from the guerrillas in other parts of the city.
The gunfire quickly intensified.
Alekseyevna returned to the window of the transmission room, sat behind the desk, and picked up her sewing, attempting to start knitting but making several mistakes in the process.
Outside, there was another explosion, possibly from a hand grenade.
The Prosen machine guns ripped through the air like tearing canvas.
Aunt Luna remembered something, quickly climbed upstairs, and soon returned with a radio.
"I have this radio; it can pick up shortwave broadcasts from Yeburg. Let’s listen.”
She turned on the radio and adjusted the dial.
Alekseyevna said, “Look at the time, Yeburg isn’t like us, all mixed up—it must be the morning music program now.”
As soon as she finished speaking, the melody of music flowed from the radio:
"Hear the battle horn sounding the alarm, put on your uniforms, take up your arms. Youth Corps members, gather and embark on the journey, united to defend our nation!”
Alekseyevna put down her sewing and stared at the radio.
Outside, the gunfire grew even denser.
The song on the radio moved into the chorus: “Dasvidaniya, dear mother, please kiss your son goodbye. Farewell, mother, don’t be sad, don’t lament, bless us with a safe journey.”
Alekseyevna suddenly said, “That’s what my sons said when they left.”
Aunt Luna added, “Just now Sherlov and the others said the same, pretty much!”
"Yes. Indeed.”
The radio continued, “Farewell, dear hometown, the victory star will shine on us, farewell mother, don’t be sad, don’t lament, bless us with a safe journey.”
Alekseyevna gazed at the radio’s speaker, lost in thought.
Even the usually talkative Aunt Luna remained silent, with only the song echoing in the transmission room—contending with the increasingly fierce gunfire outside.
Kazarlia First Front Army’s Air Force 20th Reconnaissance Squadron, Reconnaissance Plane 207, was approaching Argesukov according to the flight plan.
Prior to this, such urban overflights for reconnaissance had been carried out five times.
But this time, for the first time, the Front Army Air Force approved reducing the reconnaissance altitude to below 500 meters.
At this height, enemy anti-aircraft fire was extraordinarily fierce; flying over cities heavily defended by enemy forces at this altitude was called a “medal flight” by pilots because a successful return almost guaranteed a medal.
Lieutenant Kukov had hardly managed to obtain this honor.
Yes, an honor.
As for danger, the young men of the Air Force never feared it.
As they got close to the city, observer Sherlov asked Lieutenant Kukov, “Lieutenant, you’re from Argesukov, right?”
"Yes, I’m a fellow townsman of Commander Rocosov! I heard he wanted to fly over the city himself but was held down by the Chief of Staff.”
Sherlov joked, “How could they let him fly personally, Miss Amelia’s abilities don’t counteract the enemy’s anti-air gunners! Unless she can perform a ‘Ying Maiman spiral to dodge the anti-air cannons below’, right?”
The key in air combat was to control information and secure positions—the energy advantage made securing positions easier, and controlling information was the premise of applying this capability advantage.
Thus, Amelia had enormous advantages in normal air combat.
But ground-based anti-aircraft guns only needed to fire at the sky.
"Here comes the city!” the lieutenant shouted, “Get ready to take pictures!”
Observer Sherlov immediately refocused on the ground.
"Strange,” he said, “why is there so much thick smoke on the ground? Did we bombard the city?”
"No, according to the updated map before we took off, the First Mobile Group Army should still be in the suburbs; their artillery couldn’t reach the city center!”
As they entered the city airspace, no anti-aircraft fire greeted Kukov and Sherlov.
It was probably because there was already chaos on the ground.
Kukov asked, “What’s going on? I didn’t hear about any airborne operations.”
"It’s the guerrillas! The Prosen Army is fighting the guerrillas!”
Sherlov observed below: “The guerrillas are being slaughtered! We need to help them!”
Kukov declared, “We have a DShK machine gun. You direct the attack line, let’s give the Prosens a wake-up call!”