Chapter 185
The tank commander had just finished speaking when another lieutenant colonel spoke up: "The infantry lacks machine guns because they've all been mounted on tanks! There's only so much machine gun production available-if tanks get them, there's less left for infantry!"
"Besides, tanks have way more machine guns than necessary. In actual combat, the one on the rear of the turret is completely useless! The BT-7 was designed with a two-man turret, and during battle, we're already overwhelmed-who has time to operate the rear machine gun on the turret?!"
Wang Zhong chuckled speechlessly. He had also commanded a T28, which had a machine gun on the rear of its turret, supposedly meant for the tank commander-but Wang Zhong had completely forgotten it even existed.
Laughable. You can barely handle the front during battle, and you're supposed to turn around and fire the rear machine gun?
The BT-7 had a rear turret machine gun too. Wang Zhong had once stood behind the BT-7's turret to command the tank, and the only thing that gun managed to do was punch him in the stomach from time to time.
By the way, at first Wang Zhong had worried the machine gun might accidentally go off and kill him, but then the BT-7's tank commander reassured him-it wasn't even loaded. They had removed the ammo to save space.
Before crossing over, Wang Zhong had read many Soviet tanker memoirs. Either they forgot the rear machine gun even existed and never mentioned it, or they complained about how much turret space it wasted while being completely useless.
Yet this rear-facing machine gun kept appearing. Most tanks had it at the start of the war. The IS-1 had it in the mid-war period, the IS-2 had it later on. It wasn't removed until the IS-3, which only just made it in time for the victory parade.
You had to wonder if that rear turret machine gun was just a personal fetish of some designer.
Incidentally, years later this issue had a hilariously ironic ending-in the Russian-made war game War Thunder, all rear-facing machine guns were just visual models with no firing function.
This design became a running joke in Russian tank engineering, like removing the tank commander role starting with the BT series.
Before crossing over, Wang Zhong had thought the troops didn't really mind. Now it seemed they had a lot of issues. He didn't understand why the design bureau never listened.
Even adding a tank commander to the T34-85 only happened in the modified version. The original T34-85 design merely added a commander's cupola for the gunner to improve visibility when not using the cannon.
Just reading the description alone was enough to max out one's blood pressure.
Wang Zhong thought, "Now that I'm here, I can bring a gun and shoot that stubborn, pigheaded designer-replace him with someone who actually meets the troops' needs."
As he was thinking this, the tankers were still eagerly debating: "Honestly, I don't get why the turret needs two coaxial machine guns. One is enough for most tasks. Adding a second one-does that make the Prossenians die more thoroughly? The turret's already cramped, and another gun just makes it worse. Better to use the extra space to store more machine gun ammo."
Another said, "Yeah, remove the rear machine gun and you can fit a lot more ammo."
"Those bugs in the design bureau don't understand tanks at all! And if they don't, can't they just copy the Prossenians? The tanks we destroyed didn't have rear machine guns, and they had tank commanders-new models even had commander cupolas!"
At that moment, a bald middle-aged man came over and lowered his voice: "Stop talking. The rear-facing machine gun and removing the tank commander were both ideas from His Majesty the Tsar's favorite-Valentin. Like General Skorobo, he's deeply trusted by the Tsar. Even General Sergei doesn't carry as much weight in front of His Majesty as Valentin does."
"He led the design of the B4 howitzer and the T35 heavy tank-both of which are favorites of His Majesty."
Every tank commander present furrowed their brows.
Wang Zhong: "Looks like everyone knows just how trash the T35 really is."
"Who wouldn't? The tank academy uses that junk as a teaching vehicle because it's huge and can fit more students inside," said the same Major General and tank division commander, frowning.
Good grief, so there's even this historical baggage.
Wang Zhong patted his chest: "I'll take responsibility for correcting the Ordnance Bureau's mistakes. I'll strive to base a new tank-one with a commander and radio-on my parade T34 by next year."
All the tank crew lit up: "Really?"
"I went to the repair shop and checked out your Vehicle 422-really impressive."
Wang Zhong's personal tank had actually returned to Leaf Fortress earlier than the others. It never left the train and was sent straight to the factory.
Wang Zhong confidently patted his chest: "It's true. In fact, under a Royal Special Program, I had the Leaf Fortress United Machinery Factory begin production of a hundred parade tanks. Officially, they're for the National Foundation Day parade-but in reality, they're going to the front lines."
"My division only has one tank battalion, so we can't use all one hundred. We could probably form two more battalions. Who gets the parade tanks? That's up to the Royal Family-I can pull some strings."
Actually, it was Her Highness the Crown Princess Olga who made the decision.
Which basically meant Wang Zhong made the decision.
The officers all wore expressions of understanding.
But clearly, their understanding might have differed slightly from Wang Zhong's.
At that moment, the division commander suggested, "Finally some good news today-let's toast to celebrate!"
He turned to the attendees and shouted, "Everyone! The General just promised us more and better tanks for tankers, more machine guns for infantry! Let's raise our glasses-to General Rokosov!"
All the officers grabbed their glasses. Those without quickly got one from a server.
Soon, everyone had a drink in hand.
Wang Zhong picked up a glass of red wine, looked around, and said, "My friends! Today feels like a family reunion-what a joy!"
He raised his glass.
"Yeah! Today's the happiest day!"
"I estimate it'll take five years to achieve victory. Let's toast-to victory in five years! See you in Prossenia!"
With that, he downed his wine in one gulp.
The young, battle-hardened officers present shouted in unison, "See you in Prossenia!"
After drinking, Wang Zhong saw the orchestra appear near the fountain. Turns out dinner was only just beginning; the earlier chatting had just been killing time before everyone arrived.
The band began playing-and it was none other than the newly-revealed piece by Wang Zhong himself, "The Sacred War," a melody that blended hymn and march.
A six-person choir began to sing: "Arise, great nation! Enter the mortal fight!"
The officers who had just been drinking stopped in their tracks.
Those who had seen battle felt the song far more deeply than ordinary people.
Everyone's expressions turned unusually solemn. Some were remembering fallen comrades, others perhaps loved ones left behind in lost territories.
The band had made some creative arrangements-for instance, the heartbeat-like rhythm was achieved by plucking the double bass strings, giving it extra weight.
----
August 13, the morning. Saint Yekaterinburg's King's Cross Station.
A train full of new recruits was about to depart. Girls were saying goodbye to their beloved young men.
The station band was playing "Farewell of the Ant Women," just like always.
Until the musicians of the Leaf Fortress Symphony Orchestra showed up with their "long guns and short cannons"-their instruments were their weapons.
Every musician had dark circles under their eyes, clearly they hadn't slept well last night.
The deputy orchestra leader, Alexandrovich, approached the military band at the station and said to the conductor: "Alright, you can stop now-it's our turn."
The conductor, a student of Alexander, replied, "Huh? Teacher, what's going on? Are we doing a public performance at the station?"
"No, not a performance. This is your mission. Just listen."
At that moment, the Philharmonic musicians all took their positions. Alexandrovich moved a box into place, stood on it, nodded at the lead instrumentalist, then at the choir, and finally said to the announcer who had been waiting: "Announce it!"
The announcer took a deep breath and shouted: "Now presenting the song composed by General Rokosov, lyrics by Warrant Officer Filippov-'The Sacred War'!"
Alexandrovich raised his right hand and lightly flicked his baton.
A deep and majestic melody began to play.
The male bass singers of the choir led in: "Arise, great nation! Enter the mortal fight!"
The young men who had just been whispering sweet farewells all stopped and looked toward the musicians.
The people bidding farewell to their children also fell silent, listening quietly as the musicians sang.
The railway workers at the station also stopped, listening to the majestic music. A young engineer said to the veteran driver, "Everything's about ready. Shouldn't we sound the whistle?"
"Shh, Alyosha. Let's finish listening first. You'll have plenty of chances to blow the whistle later," the veteran said, raising his index finger.
Just then, the station master came out, listened for a bit, then entered the broadcast room next to his office and told the technician, "Get the receiver! I want this song heard across the entire station-and start recording immediately!"
The technician said, "If we start now, we'll only get half the song. Let them sing again later for a full recording."
"Fine, fine! Just get the microphone ready! I want it broadcast across the whole station!"
Moments later, all the loudspeakers at the train station, including the big ones outside the station, began broadcasting "The Sacred War."
The crowd in front of the station froze in place and looked up at the speakers.
"Let the noblest rage surge like waves! Wage the people's war, the sacred war!"
The powerful lyrics, carried by the melody, pierced everyone's hearts, igniting boundless fury and endless resolve.
As the song ended, the entire station-no, the entire station square-erupted in thunderous applause.
The station master rushed over and grabbed Alexandrovich's hand excitedly: "One more time! I want to record it and play it every day! They say the 'Marseillaise' is stronger than an army-this song is the same!"
"Sing it again, maestro!"
Alexandrovich said, "Alright. Just get the microphone ready and prep the recorder. We'll sing it again! No-we'll sing it as many times as needed!"
(End of Chapter)