Chapter 60
Chapter 60
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 60
Chapter Title: Blackburn-Shilling Gambit (3)
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"Air reconnaissance report: Enemy forces have entered the Kozłowiecki Forest. Visibility is too poor due to the dense foliage for further scouting."
"Wiretap report: Cavalry Corps notified 8th Army HQ of their entry into the Kozłowiecki Forest, and permission was granted."
"Incoming from 1st Cavalry Division: They say further pursuit is impossible."
"Tell them to link up with 20th Corps and check the enemy's 8th Army."
"All air units, return to base. Resume operations over the Warsaw sector."
"This is our last chance. The fate of the entire Polish front rests with us."
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Kozłowiecki Forest.
The cavalry corps marched silently through the thick woods.
Fog blanketed everything, reducing visibility to less than two meters.
"About halfway through?"
"Yes, around that."
"Why the hell is this damned forest so huge?"
Clinging desperately to their compasses, they pressed on slowly.
In a situation where no one would notice if someone vanished, the cavalrymen stuck close to their horses and trudged along.
Shh-shh—something alive darted through the underbrush.
"W-what was that?!"
"A frog, you idiot."
"Fuck, this forest gives me the creeps."
"Quiet there!"
The forest was eerily silent, and the mosquitoes, bogs, and ponds lurking everywhere like traps slowly eroded their patience.
Splash! Another soldier misstepped in the fog and plunged into a pond.
"Fuck this shitty fog."
"When the hell does this forest end?"
"I said be quiet."
"Mmph..."
Kolchak growled, and the soldier paled, clamping his hand over his mouth.
Fortunately, the end of the forest was coming into view.
Faint light poured through the gaps ahead.
"Finally, we can rest...! This is really the end...!"
Kolchak muttered in relief and ecstasy.
Just beyond lay Lublin, with its comfortable beds and abundant supplies.
"Hahaha! Let's hurry!"
"We're the first out of this godforsaken forest!"
The Cossack division commanders excitedly tugged their horses' reins and quickened their pace.
The moment they all glimpsed that light of hope.
Boooom——
"...Huh?"
Even from a great distance, an enormous roar shook the forest.
Neigh!! The horses reared in panic at the sudden blast.
The soldiers panicked and murmured, unable to calm their mounts; even the commanders were the same.
"W-what was that sound?"
"Did someone fire the horse artillery wrong? Show yourself!!"
"...No."
Kolchak suddenly realized what it was, his pupils trembling.
"That's not a sound horse artillery could make..."
Boooom—Boooom—Boom—
As Kolchak muttered, countless more explosions thundered.
"This... this is field artillery!!!!"
At the commander's shout, the division commanders finally grasped the situation and bellowed orders in horror.
"Fuck!! The enemy has us in their sights!!"
"Where—where do we hide?!"
"Mount up!! Get out of the forest now!!"
"No!! Ditch the horses and scatter—"
KABOOOOOM!!!!!!!
Kolchak's vision went white as he urgently commanded his soldiers and staff.
Hot liquid and chunks of something splattered violently across his body.
"Argh, aaaagh!!"
Kolchak's body flew low and tumbled across the ground several times.
Riiiing— Tinnitus overlapped everything, leaving the commander unable to think straight amid the encroaching chaos.
He barely opened one eye, but everything was red.
Still, he saw rising dust, flying soldiers, and horses rearing excitedly on their front hooves.
'What... what the hell happened...?'
Where Kolchak had stood was a small crater strewn with scattered chunks of flesh.
'My horse... my horse...!'
Recalling the blood and meat splattered on him, he realized those chunks were his beloved steed.
His breath caught, but Kolchak struggled to rise. Yet his legs wouldn't budge, as if buried in the dirt.
'No way!! After coming this far, they followed us?! The infantry?!'
Whether from his sluggish thoughts or the sheer impossibility, Kolchak couldn't comprehend it.
'I can't... I can't understand...'
Then he saw division commanders raising their sabers high.
They shouted at the soldiers, pointing their blades toward the forest's edge.
Mounted troopers charged chaotically through the smoke.
"No...!! Don't go...!!"
In the ringing in his ears, Kolchak faintly heard his own voice pleading with the soldiers.
"Don't go, I said!!!!"
His eyes met a division commander's who was galloping out on horseback.
Shock or fear—it was hard to tell.
"Nooooo!!!!!!!"
Those pupils were unmistakably trembling.
KABOOOOOM!!!!!!!
That was Commander Kolchak's final memory.
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Kaboom!!! Boom!! KABOOOM!!!
"Draw your rifles!! Proud Cossacks!!!"
Shing— Amid the shelling, 12th Cavalry Division Commander Alexei Kaledin raised his saber high and bellowed.
"We must escape this barrage at all costs! To Lublin—we'll form a defensive line!!"
How the enemy had followed, how they'd pinpointed their position in this fog—Kaledin had no idea.
The only certainty was that they had to break out and reach Lublin.
That was the truth.
"Come on, out of the forest!! Scatter the moment we exit!!"
"Waaaaah!!"
And so, when they fought through to that faint gap and finally escaped the cursed woods.
"We're out!!"
"Fuck, finally out!! Finally ou—"
"...Huh?"
The despair matched their hopes in intensity.
They would never.
Never reach Lublin.
The light filtering through the trees was no salvation—it was the lantern of judgment for their carelessness.
"...Это невозможно!!! (...This is impossible!!!)"
"Heh heh."
Endless barbed wire and trench lines.
Sturdy defensive works and confident German troops.
Rifles and MG08 machine guns aimed right at them.
"Why are you stopping?! Charge!!"
"No...!! We have to retreat!!"
"Hey, they're pushing from behind!!"
The Eastern Front's mightiest 8th Army.
Even within that, the 1st Corps—the one that had slain the most foes and racked up the most merits.
Nightmares awaited them.
"Feuer!!!"
Ratta-tatta-tatta!!! At 1st Corps Commander Robert Kosch's order, every prepared gun roared to life.
Red blood splashed against the trees.
"Aaaagh!! Urgh!!! Please, back—gahk!"
"Gunfire?! What the hell's happening!!"
"Please, back!! Go back!!"
"How can Cossack cavalry show our backs to the enemy?! Charge now!! Char—kyaaagh!!!"
Ratta-tatta-tatta!! Machine guns ahead, impenetrable forest behind, shells raining down.
Corps commander dead, one division commander down. With trees everywhere and everyone still mounted, traffic ground to a halt.
Hell unfolded for the cavalry corps.
"Retreat!! Please retreat!!!"
"Division commander!! Guhuk!!!"
Bang!!! Bang!!! Kaledin, frantic, kept shooting his pistol at the troopers blocking the rear, but fallen horses now barred the way.
"You fucking bastards!!! Move!!! Hiiik!!!"
Tatta-tatta!! Bullets grazed past, and Kaledin leaped from his horse, scrambling back into the forest.
Seeing him, the Russians—even the fierce, renowned Cossacks—dismounted and fled.
Thus, the trees at the forest's edge drank blood.
And the cavalry became trapped inside.
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"No matter how many times we check, there's no response. Communications with the cavalry corps have been completely cut off."
"...Why?"
Brusilov muttered faintly, his eyes bloodshot.
Boom—Boom— Distant artillery rumbled. Their 8th Army, combat ineffective, was under German attack.
That much was manageable.
They could recover from losses, slip away while the cavalry corps held the encirclement.
But.
"Communications cut? How..."
All contact with the cavalry corps was severed. Corps HQ, division HQs—gone.
Last message: Entering Kozłowiecki Forest.
Brusilov stared motionless at the operations map for a long while, then...
"...!"
With trembling hands, he picked up an enemy piece from the wrong spot and placed it on Lublin.
Everything clicked.
"...Aha, hahahahaha."
The cavalry piece was trapped in the forest, surrounded by enemy pieces.
"A trap... Blackburn-Shilling Gambit, was it? We've been had..."
Blackburn-Shilling Gambit—greedily snatching the bait coin, only to fall into carelessness and the trap.
Brusilov raised his creaking head.
The chess player across from him smiled at his dazed expression.
As if saying, 'Checkmate.'
"Sealed by a single pawn, eh. Haha."
"Are you alright, Commander?"
Clack—clack— As Brusilov dropped the pieces and laughed hollowly, his adjutant approached.
The commander, unable to lift his head, rasped an order.
"Wake the staff..."
"At this hour...?"
To the adjutant's worried question, Brusilov gave a bitter smile.
"We need to discuss... surrender."
Brusilov's Nagant revolver gleamed in the moonlight seeping through.