Arc of Fire

August 27, 915, at Abawahan airport outskirts, 2330 hours.

Lieutenant Colonel Richard glanced at the time and said to Colonel Charlie, the task force commander of the 1st Paratrooper Division Special Forces, "If the attack resolution is passed, we should be boarding now, otherwise by the time we land, it’ll be daylight, and there will be severe casualties."

Colonel Charlie looked outside, "They’re waiting for the scout plane to send back the weather report."

Lieutenant Colonel Richard said, "We’ve trained for parachute drops in bad weather. If it really comes down to it, the planes can land directly at the airport without airdropping us, we’ve discussed this possibility."

As Colonel Charlie was about to respond, the telephone suddenly rang.

The Colonel sprang to the phone and picked up the receiver, "1st Paratrooper Division!"

Colonel Benjamin’s voice came from the other end, "Rocossov is asking you, if the planes land directly, are you confident that you can take the airport?"

"Yes!" Colonel Charlie responded decisively, "We’ve rehearsed this scenario. So the target area has bad weather, right?"

"The clouds are low, landing is possible, but it’s uncertain whether a parachute drop is feasible."

In addition to cutting off the enemy’s air support, seizing the airport had another important objective: to prevent the enemy from destroying the airport so that the Carolingian Air Force and the Antean Air Force could use it to provide aerial support to the Expeditionary Force.

Although the combat effectiveness of Balas’s Air Force was insufficient and the ground forces of Balas would probably not be able to withstand the Ante Army’s attack, having air support was a bit more reassuring.

After receiving the assurance from Colonel Charlie, Colonel Benjamin seemed to be consulting with someone, speaking in Antenese.

Moments later, Colonel Benjamin said, "Depart, Colonel Charlie, and good luck."

"Yes, sir!" Colonel Charlie snapped to attention and, once the other end had hung up, slammed the receiver down onto the phone, excitedly declaring, "Move out! The initial battle has come!"

Yes, this was the 1st Paratrooper Division’s first real combat since its formation. Charlie and his team were tasked with accumulating experience for the far more significant Operation Torch in a few months.

Lieutenant Colonel Richard asked, "Parachute drop? Or are transport planes landing directly at the airport?"

"Transport coming straight in for landing. Let’s hope those Antean pilots flying the transports weren’t just boasting."

Lieutenant Colonel Richard shrugged, "Even if they were just boasting, all we need to do is give them some vodka, and after drinking it, they’d dare land on the Plathen Emperor’s bed!" 𐍂άɴоβÈS

Colonel Charlie roared with laughter, grabbed his beret, and ran outside, shouting as he went, "Boarding, boarding! Everyone, board the aircraft! Implement Plan B! Plan B!"

August 28, D-Day, 0010 hours, at Abawahan Port.

When Wang Zhong heard the sound of engines in the sky, he looked up and could see the navigation lights of the transport planes passing like a swarm of fireflies.

"The paratroopers have left." he said.

Pavlov said, "Wish them luck. And let’s wish all of us luck, too."

"There shouldn’t be any problems." Wang Zhong muttered, returning his gaze and continuing towards the cargo ship carrying the Expeditionary Army Headquarters.

The 393rd Naval Infantry Brigade and the first wave of landing troops had departed the day before; the Expeditionary Army Headquarters and the second wave of troops were boarding now.

As Wang Zhong climbed the gangway onto the cargo ship’s deck, he saw Popov retching and said, "How can you start vomiting with just this little swaying?"

The Inland Sea was essentially just a large lake; the waves were nothing like those of the real ocean. Someone like Wang Zhong would never get seasick.

Popov pulled out a handkerchief to gently wipe his mouth, "Everyone’s physique is different. Looks like I’m never going to join the navy as a Fleet Chaplain in this lifetime."

Wang Zhong said, "Why don’t you go lie down for a bit? It might make you feel better. The ship hasn’t even set sail yet; once it does, you’ll really be in trouble."

At that moment, Pavlov came up and frowned at Popov’s condition, "You’re getting seasick already?"

Popov said, "The General just said the same thing a moment ago. Can you find a different way to say it?"

Pavlov thought for a few seconds and said, "Do you want some vodka?"

Really, they treat seasickness with vodka too?

Popov said, "Shove off! But, maybe a bit of vodka would help."

No, I think you’re just craving the vodka!

Pavlov reached into his pocket, pulled out a hip flask, unscrewed the lid and handed it to Popov.

The moment the lid was opened, Wang Zhong caught a strong whiff of vodka and teased, "This is the first I’ve learned that you carry alcohol with you."

Pavlov said, "It’s common for Anteans to carry a bottle of alcohol with them. Come on, brother, drink up. Once you’re done, you won’t be able to tell if it’s the boat swaying or you that’s swaying."

Popov took the hip flask and tilted his head back, gulping down all the liquor inside.

"Thanks, I feel much better now," he said.

Could it really work like that!

Wang Zhong decided not to comment on it and went straight to business, "When can the command center begin operating?"

"As soon as the radio is set up, it’ll be operational," Pavlov said, "in just a few minutes. But there’s not much to command now, right? The paratroopers are already en route; can you call them back?"

Wang Zhong shook his head, "I can’t."

At 0330 hours in the early morning of the 28th, twenty-three kilometers north of Moha, at sea, the Ante Army landing group.

Naval Brigadier Aromeyev looked up immediately upon hearing the engine sound, yet the thick clouds rendered him blind.

At this time, many naval infantrymen, having heard the sound, emerged from the cabins, staring into the sky.

"Damn it, can’t see anything."

Aromeyev yelled, "Alright! Stop looking! The paratroopers will complete their mission! Now hurry up and write your wills if you haven’t yet, and get some sleep while you still can!"

The moment his words ended, sailors hurried out of the cabins, beginning to operate the deck cranes.

Aromeyev grabbed a sailor and asked, "What’s happening? Are we switching to landing crafts already?"

"No, we’re lowering the landing crafts first, then it’s your turn! Don’t rush!" the crew member said, patting Aromeyev on the shoulder—probably not noticing he was a brigadier.

Aromeyev didn’t mind it and instead shouted to the naval infantry, "Alright, don’t block the crew from deploying the boats, move away from the rail!"

---

United Kingdom’s First Paratrooper Division Special Task Force, lead aircraft.

Colonel Charlie stuck his head into the cockpit, "How is it, can we land?"

The pilot, with a heavy Antenean accent in Onsas language, said, "Certainly, we haven’t torn our faces off with Balas yet, so I just called them and they’ll turn on the lights to help us land!"

Colonel Charlie, "Really?"

"Yes, so once we land, secure the light controls first to make sure the airfield stays lit. Dawn is an hour away, we need the lights," the pilot said.

As Colonel Charlie was about to respond, he saw the co-pilot fiddling with a Papasha and asked, "Why tinker with the Papasha?"

The pilot replied, "We’ve nothing else to do after we land, and we can’t use the runway with other planes landing, so we’re going down to provide you some firepower support."

After speaking, the co-pilot snapped the charging handle forward, chambering a round in the Papasha.

Colonel Charlie awkwardly said, "You guys just make sure you’re safe, we can handle it."

"You sure?" the pilot asked, looking very reluctant to receive a positive response from Colonel Charlie.

The colonel nodded, "I’m sure, we don’t need help."

The pilot and co-pilot both looked quite disappointed.

Then the co-pilot’s alarm rang.

Colonel Charlie’s eyes widened as the co-pilot took a wind-up alarm clock from under the seat, pressed the stop button, and then said to the pilot, "Time to descend."

The pilot gently pushed the control stick, and the airplane nosedived, burrowing into the clouds.

A dozen seconds later, clouds were suddenly left behind, and even Colonel Charlie could see the lights of the airfield.

Colonel Charlie, "My God, this trick actually worked, was it your idea?"

The pilot shook his head, "No, how could I think of this? It was suggested by General Rocossov’s forces. He’s an expert in deceiving the enemy around here!"

While they were talking, the landing gears slammed onto the runway, shaking the entire airplane violently as if it might disintegrate the very next moment.

Colonel Charlie had to grip the cockpit door’s upper handle tightly.

The bumping finally ceased and the Antenean pilot steered sharply, sliding the aircraft diagonally.

"The enemy hasn’t caught on!" he shouted, "Get your men out fast, or the enemy might start strafing when they react, and the plane’s hull won’t withstand heavy machine guns!"

Colonel Charlie turned, kicked open the cabin door, and yelled to his subordinates, "Quick! Just like in training! Remember to cushion your fall, go!"

A sergeant first class sitting by the door held onto his beret, first tossed down his equipment, then jumped down with a Sten Submachine Gun and his personal ammo.

Colonel Charlie didn’t look at how the jumper faired but continued to urge, "Hurry, hurry!"

Until then, there was no gunfire outside.

After the fifth soldier jumped, the pilot yelled, "Stop jumping, the enemy hasn’t noticed anything off. I’ll slide straight to the control tower, go take it!"

Colonel Charlie grabbed a soldier ready to jump and said, "Wait, the situation seems to have changed."

At this moment, a soldier perched at a cabin window shouted, "Look, plane number two has landed too, the enemy hasn’t noticed a thing!"

By then, the command aircraft had slowed down considerably, slowly sliding towards the control tower.

Two guards finally felt something was amiss and began shouting over.

Colonel Charlie made a split-second decision, grabbed his pistol and jumped out first. After rolling on the ground, he surged to his feet and strode towards the guard post.

The slowly taxiing aircraft followed him, with paratroopers continuously jumping from the open cabin door.

The two guards had never seen anything like this and were stunned, watching Colonel Charlie approach them, not even thinking to load their fixed machine guns.

Colonel Charlie, "We are instructors from the United Kingdom, sent to provide you with training."

Guard A, "Uh, we weren’t informed about instructors coming from the United Kingdom."

Guard B, "We even have retired Prosen instructors here, won’t they fight?"

At this moment, two United Kingdom paratroopers suddenly appeared, their submachine guns aimed at the guards’ chests.

"Don’t talk! Surrender and we won’t kill you!" the paratrooper shouted in poorly spoken Balas language—clearly a phrase hastily crammed from a manual handed out earlier.

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