Making the Gun Bow Its Head

"Lower the... heads? What on earth are you talking about...! Captain Jaeger, have you gone mad? You want me to *surrender*?! I don't care how dire our situation is, or how unreasonable the order— I am a Brigadier General of the Imperial Army...!"

Brigadier General Dietrich poured out the words in a voice full of outrage.

"Whoa, whoa. Calm down, sir. Surrender? Not at all. That's not what I meant. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I mean we should make the gun barrels lower their heads."

"The barrels...?"

While soothing him, I pointed a finger at the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Rosenheim defensive deployment map hanging on the wall.

"The 88mm anti-aircraft battery tucked into the corner of Rosenheim Station. Right now, it's staring up at the sky."

"Anti-aircraft guns? Isn't that the thing that shoots down planes!"

I explained calmly.

"Exactly. The 88mm anti-aircraft gun was built to shoot down bombers flying at altitudes of several thousand meters. With its absurd muzzle velocity and kinetic energy, a ground tank would be torn apart like paper."

"Wh-what...! B-but that's..."

Dietrich's eyes went round. It must have been an idea completely outside his common sense—firing a weapon made for the sky at the ground. But I was certain. After all, it was a tactic proven both in Earth's history and inside the game.

Just then, a sharp shout exploded from a corner of the bunker.

"Now see here! What does some Army captain know, running his mouth!"

An officer in a blue dress uniform strode toward us. Unlike the 3rd Corps officers caked in dirt and dust, he looked relatively pristine.

Status Analysis.

Ah, so he shares a name with Quartermaster Hermann, the master sergeant. But in appearance and temperament they were complete opposites—a stern, snakelike countenance.

"...Major Hermann."

Brigadier General Dietrich called to him with a troubled expression, but Major Hermann paid him no mind and marched right up to me, jabbing a finger in my face.

"The 88mm anti-aircraft gun is a masterpiece of precision engineering bestowed by His Majesty the Emperor! A precision instrument designed to intercept high-altitude bombers! And you want it to do what? Fire at tanks kicking up dirt?!"

He scoffed, as if the very idea were absurd.

"You're an Army man, so perhaps you don't know, but anti-aircraft guns are far more delicate devices than you'd think. There's the recoil from horizontal firing, the wear on the barrel to consider. And you honestly believe time-fused shells can punch through tank armor?"

None of it was strictly wrong. By the book, anyway.

I answered flatly.

"As I understand it, armor-piercing rounds were distributed to the anti-aircraft batteries for emergency use. Issued for destroying concrete bunkers, I believe."

"Th-they do exist, but...! Those are strictly for defensive positions, not something to be used as a primary weapon...!"

"Then isn't that all settled? You have the ammunition, you have the guns, and the targets are right in front of you. Is there a single reason not to fire?"

"You lunatic! You want to run my precious anti-aircraft guns up to the front line and burn them like expendables?! Absolutely not! Air Force regulations clearly state—!"

Major Hermann went red in the face, spraying spit. A textbook clash between the Army and Air Force points of view.

I ignored him and looked at the Brigadier General. He was the one with the authority to decide.

Charming Speechcraft.

"Brigadier General. You have to choose."

I lowered my voice.

"Do we lose while clinging to regulations? Or do we attempt an unorthodox tactic?"

"That's... well..."

"There's no time. The bombardment only just ended, and we have no idea when they'll launch their attack."

A light of resolve flickered to life in Dietrich's wavering eyes.

"...Damn it all, come what may! Fine, I'll trust you! Major Hermann! Follow Captain Jaeger's instructions immediately! That's an order!"

Hermann's face contorted violently. But with the Brigadier General's order handed down, he could no longer raise objections.

He muttered something displeased under his breath, then ran to the signalman and began bellowing at the top of his lungs.

"Damn ground-grubbing infantry, this is the end of my career...! All batteries! Target change! Cease anti-aircraft fire! Prepare for ground attack! Load armor-piercing rounds!"

I watched him with a satisfied smile.

"A wise decision, Brigadier General."

"Whew..."

Dietrich wiped the cold sweat from his brow and slumped into a seat.

"I talked big about taking responsibility, but... Captain Jaeger, you're certain it'll punch through, just like you said? If it doesn't work, we're finished."

"Don't worry."

I answered in a voice brimming with conviction.

"Because there's no way it won't."

We dashed out of the bunker in the lull after the bombardment.

Outside was chaos. Collapsed buildings lined the streets everywhere, black smoke rising in every direction. The number of wounded being evacuated, screaming, had only grown.

Damn it, in the bunker they were still debating whether Sector 5 had fallen or not.

Pandemonium, worse than before.

"Aaargh! Move! Get out of the way!"

The road toward the city entrance was a tangled morass of refugees and stragglers.

Brigadier General Dietrich bit his lip at the sight.

"The 3rd Corps' defensive line... has already been pushed back that far? The reports said they were still engaging at the outer fortifications!"

What this scene meant was obvious.

"The reports are late. Their speed of advance is faster than a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠signalman's legs."

I checked the Minimap in the corner of my vision.

Red dots.

From the very edge of the Minimap, red dots were surging toward Rosenheim at a terrifying speed.

You've got to be kidding—they're already here?

A textbook blitzkrieg, shoving the armored forces in first without waiting for infantry or artillery support. A brutish race of speed that existed nowhere in the Imperial Army's doctrine.

The situation was far worse than I'd expected.

"Brigadier General. That crowd will be swept aside in an instant. At most twenty minutes before they come into view."

"Twenty minutes?! You want us to move those heavy guns in that time?!"

Major Hermann, listening nearby, gasped in horror.

"Which is why we move now! 2nd Company, anyone! Get over there and help those Air Force men push!"

I shouted and grabbed the wheels of an anti-aircraft gun myself.

"Hnnngh! Push! Push, dammit!"

"The barrel's catching! Careful!"

Two 88mm anti-aircraft guns carved their way through the mud.

"This is insane!"

"Damn it all, I signed up to polish aircraft, not dig trenches like a ground-grubber..."

The Air Force soldiers stumbled and fumbled with unfamiliar ground movement while the men of 2nd Company shoved them along, cursing up a storm. A collaboration that was an absolute disaster in every sense.

Ten minutes later, we had just barely managed to cram the battery in behind a collapsed brick wall.

And at ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the fifteen-minute mark, we threw camouflage netting over the guns and locked the outriggers for horizontal firing. The distant rumble of tank tracks was now close enough to rattle our eardrums.

"Hah, hah... this is truly insane..."

Major Hermann collapsed, drenched in sweat.

And at that very moment—

"E-enemy tanks spotted! Road, eleven o'clock!"

With the observer's frantic shout, the wave of stragglers filling the far end of the road abruptly cut off.

And then, onto the empty road, massive silhouettes of steel emerged, kicking up clouds of dust.

Status Analysis.

Sleek, smoothly sloped armor and a long-barreled 75mm main gun. They looked entirely different in character from our Imperial tanks wrapped in crude, right-angled plating.

"Listen carefully, Captain Jaeger! The 1st and 3rd Battalions are deployed on the left and right respectively. And just as you asked, the center is empty!"

The Brigadier General, having finished directing the deployment of the anti-aircraft guns, rushed back and rattled off the report to me.

"But if the tanks slip around our flanks, we're all dead!"

"Don't worry. Tankers have narrow vision slits, so they prefer wide-open roads. Rake them with rifle fire from both sides, and they'll crawl into the center on their own."

"Whew... yes, that's true, but..."

He still looked anxious, his face tight with unease.

Soon, the Imperial response began. The Brigadier General shouted into the radio.

"Anti-tank units, open fire! Light them up!"

The first to fire was, naturally, the anti-tank unit.

BANG—!

The 37mm anti-tank gun cracked with a sharp report. A hit. The shell slammed squarely into the frontal armor of a Rene tank.

But—

TING—!

With a bright metallic ring, sparks flew—and the shell ricocheted off into the sky, utterly defeated.

"It-it ricocheted!"

"You're kidding—that didn't penetrate?! That was practically point-blank range!"

The Rene tank kept rolling without so much as a scratch. And then—

Kiiiiiik.

Its turret slowly rotated toward the anti-tank position, with all the languid annoyance of a man swatting a bothersome fly.

BOOOM—!

The 75mm main gun spat fire.

"Uwaaah!"

Sandbags burst apart, and the anti-tank gun and its crew were scattered into the air as unrecognizable paste of meat. One shell. A single shot of counterfire, and an entire defensive line was erased.

"That, that monster..."

Brigadier General Dietrich's face turned ashen.

"Magic! Where's the magic support?!"

This time it was Dietrich who shouted, looking toward the 1st Battalion.

In response, Major Seraphina leaned out from behind cover. A blue Mana Bullet condensed in her pistol, then shot forth and struck the track of the second tank.

CRACK-BOOM—!

A powerful burst of cold exploded, trying to freeze the chain solid—but the scorched engine heat and those brutes' absurd horsepower shattered even the ice and pressed onward.

"They even have magic-resistance coating..."

Seraphina bit her lip and sank down. Small arms, anti-tank guns, magic. Nothing worked.

"They're coming! Run!"

"Fall back! We can't stop them! We'll all die!"

At that overwhelming spectacle, our morale plummeted, and someone's scream became the signal flare as the front line began to collapse.

"H-here they come! They're entering effective range!"

"Don't fire yet! Wait!"

Major Hermann shrieked in a strangled voice. But his hands were trembling like aspen leaves.

Brigadier General Dietrich was just as rattled. He looked at me and shouted,

"C-Captain Jaeger! Shouldn't we fire now?! If they spot us and shoot first, we're finished!"

"Stay calm, General. They haven't seen us yet. Thanks to the camouflage, they'll take us for just more ruins."

I calmly ranged the distance.

1,500 meters. 1,200 meters. 1,000 meters.

Brigadier General Dietrich seized my arm in a tight grip. His palm was slick with cold sweat.

"C-Captain Jaeger...!"

"Hold."

800 meters.

They didn't slow down. And then, exactly as we had intended, they entered the central intersection. Because of the building rubble we had collapsed in advance, the lead tank had no choice but to reduce speed.

600 meters.

At last, close enough to see the seams between their armor plates.

"Now."

As I murmured the word, Major Hermann roared until the veins stood out on his neck.

"ALL BATTERIES! FIRE!!"

BOOOOOM—!!

With a thunderclap that seemed to flip the earth itself, the muzzles of the 88s erupted in flame.