Chapter 58
Chapter 58
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 58
Chapter Title: Blackburn-Shilling Gambit (1)
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Russian 8th Army Headquarters.
Finally, the report they had been waiting for arrived.
"Cavalry Corps reports! Contact made with the rear of the enemy mobile corps!"
"Just as expected."
"It's done!"
"The enemy mobile corps is in a severely fatigued state. They request permission to attack!"
The staff officers clapped and cheered.
Most of the divisions forming the Cavalry Corps consisted of Russia's strongest and most ferocious Cossacks.
They believed that even the Germans would inevitably get skinned alive if they crossed paths with the Cossacks.
After countless defeats, sensing a glimmer of light—a victory—they hurriedly approached Brusilov.
"Commander! Grant permission to attack!"
"Even though the entire Northwest Front has been annihilated, if we can devour the enemy 8th Army's corps, it won't be a total defeat!"
"Before their retreat path narrows further, we must seize this golden opportunity to cut off the enemy's flanking force!"
They poured out their words in a rush, but Brusilov simply stared silently at the operations map.
The staff officers' voices grew quieter in the face of their commander's ominous aura.
...I see it. The outline.
Faint clues began to piece together in Brusilov's mind.
The enemy persistently whittling away at their reconnaissance resources, the increasingly fierce resistance, the inevitable... or perhaps deliberate delays of the enemy corps.
The veiled competence of the enemy 8th Army's headquarters.
Soon, the commander reached a conclusion.
"It's all too contrived. Everything... feels like wandering through a dream."
This intuition was no mere hunch—it was the product of cold, hard calculations honed across countless battlefields.
"Pardon? What do you mean?"
"Doesn't it strike you as strange? The situation keeps cleverly tilting in our favor at every turn."
The staff officers tilted their heads at Brusilov's words.
"But, Commander. Aren't we strategically superior to the Germans by mathematical fact?"
"Neither our forces nor the Cavalry Corps are in ideal shape. We've taken losses from the enemy's fierce resistance."
"And yet the Cavalry Corps caught up because we overcame all those obstructions, didn't we?"
Though the staff raised repeated objections, Brusilov grew ever more convinced of his reasoning.
At last, the commander revealed a thrill in his gleaming eyes.
"No. Let's rethink this."
He carefully examined the pieces as he explained.
"From the start, we calculated that the Cavalry Corps would catch the enemy no matter what variables arose. That was a clear mathematical certainty."
"Yes."
"Would the enemy fail to calculate that? The Germans, who operate the most advanced and well-organized General Staff system among the great powers? Their 8th Army?"
"...Pardon?"
The staff officers' pupils wavered for a moment.
But they soon shook their heads, attempting to refute him.
"No, then why would they sacrifice so much just to hinder our Cavalry Corps...?"
"That's exactly it!"
Snap! Brusilov snapped his fingers and shouted.
The commander continued, barely containing his excitement.
"It's reasonable to assume the Germans knew they couldn't ultimately stop our Cavalry Corps, yet still accepted those losses."
"But... why...?"
"That's not all. Their deliberately slow advance, targeting only our reconnaissance resources—it's all connected!"
Thud! Lightly, yet heavily, Brusilov slammed down his clenched fist.
"To deceive us. To lure us into a trap!"
"So you're saying the enemy flanking corps was fully prepared, lying in wait for our Cavalry Corps' charge?"
"Precisely. The puzzle is complete."
The staff officers gradually shook off the illusion of victory and faced reality.
The commander's words clearly explained all prior doubts.
The Germans' deception had been ingenious, but it couldn't hide everything.
Even so, some couldn't fully shake off their delusion.
"But there's no proof. We can't rule out the possibility that the enemy corps is truly in dire straits."
"Exactly. We have a chance to crush the 8th Army's corps— we can't just let it slip away."
"No."
Brusilov shook his head firmly, refuting them.
"What is the objective of this operation?"
"...To buy time and prevent the enemy from completing their encirclement."
"Right. We just need to delay. There's no reason to force a decisive battle if the enemy looks weak. We should avoid it instead."
Brusilov carefully picked up a piece, like a chess player lifting it after deep contemplation.
Clack. With the fate of the game hanging on this move, the commander placed it carefully yet decisively on a new square.
"How about this?"
"This... yes, it's solid!"
"Bypass the corps entirely?"
A move with no risk, yet one that definitively achieved the operation's goal.
Bypass the enemy corps and secure a position ahead of time to check them.
"If it's strongly suspected to be a trap, we have no reason to engage the enemy."
Brusilov grinned.
"Bypass the enemy corps directly and secure a position that disrupts our army's retreat path and encirclement formation."
Another general might have blundered into a reckless attack, but this was Brusilov.
He had lived his life as a cavalry officer and even authored works on cavalry tactics, giving him profound insight into mounted warfare.
This time too, he intended to maneuver the corps in a way that maximized cavalry advantages.
"Well now, what will you do?"
With a confident expression, Brusilov stared at the invisible chess player seated across from him.
The one who must surely be hanging their head in dismay.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
German 8th Army Headquarters.
"Report from 20th Corps. Monitoring the enemy Cavalry Corps."
"Is the air detachment maintaining rotations?"
"Yes, regular report in 30 minutes."
"All enemy 8th Army radio traffic is under interception."
Every member of the 8th Army headquarters was more composed than ever, immersed in their duties.
At the center, the commander, chief of staff, and... one young major controlled everything.
"Report from 9th Army. Safely pressing toward Warsaw. Front lines confirmed to be contracting."
As the encirclement tightened, the elongated front gradually shortened.
Reports filled with nothing but good news continued...
"Air detachment report has arrived."
...until a slightly tense voice echoed through headquarters.
The deliberating staff officers turned to watch.
"Enemy Cavalry Corps has caught up to 20th Corps' rear. Damage is minor; fatigue levels unconfirmed."
"Hm. Finally."
General François muttered in a tense tone.
Major Rommel and Chief of Staff Grüner remained silent.
Instead, they approached the operations map.
"Contact within margin of error. This is where it gets crucial."
"Latest report confirms 20th Corps is aware of the Cavalry Corps' approach and has completed interception preparations."
"If they bite here, it'd be ideal..."
As conversations and tasks wrapped up, the staff gradually gathered before the map.
They relayed information to Rommel and Grüner in calm yet somewhat anxious tones.
"...What do you think?"
Finally, Grüner swallowed dryly and broke the silence, asking Rommel.
Rommel smirked as he replied.
"If they bite, great. If not, a shame."
"I know that much..."
"I don't know how the Cavalry Corps will move either. So far, everything's gone exactly as both sides calculated—no basis for evaluation."
"Fair enough..."
Grüner sighed at Rommel's matter-of-fact response.
General François gnawed at his lips, struggling to mask his impatience amid their exchange.
"...Report from 20th Corps."
Silence descended over headquarters.
The officers' gazes focused intently as the soldier read the report in a stiff voice.
"Enemy Cavalry Corps has bypassed our forces. Heading south from the western sector..."
"Aah!"
"Damn it."
"As expected, they won't go down easy."
Before the soldier finished, headquarters filled with sighs.
It seemed things hadn't gone their way.
In the uneasy atmosphere, only Rommel calmly and silently adjusted the pieces on the map.
Not living up to the hype, are you. Brusilov.
Suddenly, Rommel turned his head to the opposite side.
There was clearly no one there—empty space—but it felt like laughter echoed from it.
But it's too early to topple the king. For now...
After staring that way briefly, Rommel turned his gaze to the commander and chief of staff.
"They should've bitten. Damn, were our disguises and deceptions too half-hearted?"
"No... this is the 8th Army. More like the enemy was smarter than we thought."
"Brusilov, the Fox of Galicia, was it? Sly as his nickname."
"..."
"...Not aimed at you, Rommel. Haha."
"It's fine."
Rommel suppressed a sigh and shook his head.
"More importantly."
Instead, he continued calmly.
"Let's move to the next phase."
Those blue eyes still burned with the quiet flame of resolve.
"It's our turn to make a move, isn't it?"
Rommel concluded quietly.