The Army of Justice (2)
Unlike his name "Nikolai," which somehow carried a vague connotation of incompetence and stubbornness, Nikolai Yudenich was actually quite capable. He had too many flaws to be called a legendary commander who turned the impossible into the possible, like Leon Trotsky or Erich Ludendorff. Regrettably, he was ignorant of tactics like catching the enemy off guard or employing elaborate deceptions. To some, he might have seemed indecisive and conservative. Yet, he was a general who could at least distinguish what was advantageous from what was disadvantageous. Even this bare minimum was something most generals struggled to do. After all, he was a general who could swiftly identify the vulnerabilities of the Coalition forces—which consisted of the Revolutionary Guard, Germany, Austria-Hungary, and the Polish Resistance.
General Yudenich explained his plan to Andrei Shkuro, a political commissar from the National Revolutionary Party.
"Shtal may have risen to the ranks of a master commander in urban warfare, but that was acquired through experience, not innate talent. Joseph Stalin ran guerrilla operations in Siberia, but in the end, he is nothing more than a partisan."
"And?"
"They may be experts in urban combat, but they are no experts in a large-scale pitched battle!"
Shtal, Trotsky, Adolf Hitler, Stalin... The battlefields where they had made their names were France and the Balkan front. All of them were narrow, confined spaces—cities, trenches, and mountains. At best, Hutier and Mackensen of the German Empire were worth keeping an eye on, as German officers fought well in any environment.
"Furthermore, the composition of their army is bizarre. Austro-Hungarian forces, the German Imperial Army, the Revolutionary Guard, and even the Polish Resistance?"
What kind of tactics could a coalition that couldn't even communicate with one another possibly employ? Although the Russian Black Army was numerically disadvantaged—roughly 250,000 Black Army troops against 400,000 Coalition forces—this was a gap that could easily be overcome through strategic maneuvers.
"Let us show them what the Eastern Front is truly like. What do you say to us launching an offensive first?"
"...That is absurd. I reject it." Andrei Shkuro, the political commissar, flatly denied Yudenich's proposal.
"There is a river right behind this Siedlce Plains! Why on earth would we not fight a defensive battle when we are outnumbered?"
"Since we were pushed out of Warsaw, local requisitioning has become difficult, and the capital is in utter chaos. We have no time!"
"Is that not the same for the Coalition? We can simply graze our horses on the vast steppes, but they have brought battle tractors and airplanes!"
"What does that... Do you honestly think the industrial power of Russia and the Germans is even comparable?!"
"...I suspect your true intentions in launching such a reckless operation."
It was Shkuro who finally showed his true colors. Yudenich fought strictly on 'battlefields where victory was possible.' And it had only been a month since Yudenich abandoned the White Army to join the Black Army. Could it be... that if he assumed the Stahlism reds would win, he would defect to their side? Naturally, Yudenich's face flushed red as he bellowed at Shkuro.
"What?!"
"Just play it safe. Safe. Do not do anything to arouse suspicion."
"Ha, haha..."
"Were you not aligned with the White Army just a month ago?"
"That was because you bastards took His Majesty the Tsar hostage!"
"I will make sure to report those exact words."
Of course, Shkuro's suspicion was not entirely baseless. The Black Army destroying nine British battleships had been the primary reason for Yudenich's defection. Even so, he had not defected with the cowardly intentions of a turncoat. He had simply found it immensely gratifying to strike a blow against Britain, Russia's century-long nemesis. Though, allowing them to land in Tallinn in the midst of it all was utterly preposterous. And now, following the success of the Tallinn landing, Yudenich was regretting his defection for the second time.
"No. I will engage the Coalition in a pitched battle on the plains. Why on earth can you not see a victory that is so glaringly obvious!"
"...Do not forget. My duty is to inspect you. The final decision rests with me!"
"All we have to do is win! Win!"
Yudenich decided to simply ignore that moronic political commissar and move his troops. Shkuro was technically correct. The authority for final operational approval strictly belonged to Shkuro. But so what? Who cared? Up until now, the Russian Black Army had operated under the mantra of 'the process doesn't matter as long as the result is good.' All they had to do was win! Just win!
The place where they first encountered the Black Army was the vast open expanse of the Siedlce Plains. It was a location they inevitably had to pass through to maneuver rapidly from Warsaw to Minsk while simultaneously coordinating with the Russian White Army. The Coalition had 450,000 men. The Black Army had 250,000. It was a staggering disparity of 200,000 troops. In a situation like this, there was no need for clever tricks. A straightforward, orthodox assault would suffice.
Although the various armies within the Coalition were nominally independent, General Mackensen of Germany practically served as the supreme commander. He was the eldest, and German officers were widely regarded as the finest high-ranking staff.
"While the Austrian forces hold the center, the Revolutionary Guard on the left and our German forces on the right will execute a wide flanking maneuver to encircle Yudenich."
"And what of Trotsky's resistance?"
"They will relentlessly harass the Black Army's rear by striking their supply lines. Then, they can close the pocket to complete the encirclement at the very end."
An encirclement through massive maneuvers. This was a tactic the German military had found immense success with, second only to breaking the front line through a single-point breakthrough. And since the Coalition held a numerical advantage, this encirclement was indeed the fastest way to annihilate the enemy forces with the fewest casualties.
"Well then, let us move."
On the first day of battle, Trotsky was the first to make a move.
"Poland belongs to us! Drive out the Russian slaughterers!"
"Waaaaah!"
The advantage of Trotsky and his resistance lay in their familiarity with the local terrain and their light equipment. They hovered around the periphery of the Russian Black Army, constantly harassing them while luring them toward the center. Yudenich let out a dry chuckle.
"How laughable. What do they think they can achieve with a mere fifty thousand resistance fighters? All forces, charge! Trample those Catholic rioters!"
Yudenich did not fall for Trotsky's deception and charged straight ahead. Knowing he stood no chance in a direct clash, Trotsky quickly retreated, making a wide detour around the front line.
"We will circle around to their rear. While Austria-Hungary holds the line, we will join the encirclement!"
Having easily broken through Trotsky, Yudenich faced the Austro-Hungarian forces in the center on the second day of the battle.
"Saint Shtal will come to save us soon!"
"Hold out for as long as you can!"
While the Austro-Hungarian forces held the line, the German Imperial Army would strike from the right, and the Revolutionary Guard would descend from the left.
"The Austro-Hungarian army is nothing but a rabble anyway! Fire at will!"
Until now, the primary opponents of the Austro-Hungarian Empire had been Italy and Serbia. Even by generous standards, their military fell short of being a true great power. Furthermore, they had little experience fighting in open plains like this, allowing the Russian Black Army to quickly seize the upper hand. Just as the Austro-Hungarian forces were barely holding on while suffering terrible casualty ratios—
"Alright, that is enough. Retreat in an orderly fashion!" Yudenich pulled the Black Army back.
"Huh...?"
"What? Do we pursue them?"
"...Pursue them! If we let Yudenich go like this, we'll have suffered all these losses for nothing!"
Throughout history, a feigned retreat to lure the enemy has always been an exceptionally effective tactic. Oblivious to the trap, the Austro-Hungarian forces eagerly pursued Yudenich. The Russian Black Army gleefully lured them toward the sector where the German Imperial Army was positioned. In doing so, the Russian Black Army succeeded in shifting the entire front line to the east. Which meant—
"Huh...? Why is the Russian Black Army already here?"
"Why on earth is the Austro-Hungarian army here?!"
"Send a messenger to the Revolutionary Guard immediately! Tell them the battlefield has shifted!"
On the third day of the battle, the Russian Black Army began engaging the German Imperial Army and the Austro-Hungarian forces. This meant that the battle was being fought with 250,000 Black Army troops against only 200,000 Coalition forces, while the largest contingent—the 200,000-strong Revolutionary Guard—was left completely out of the fight. The Revolutionary Guard was equally bewildered by this absurd turn of events. They had been maintaining constant reconnaissance using the Bosnian Revolutionary Guard's cavalry and aerial partisans. They soon confirmed that an engagement had broken out a full day's march ahead of them.
"What the—?! Why are those bastards already fighting over there?"
"Commander Stalin, are we late?"
"No, President! The German Imperial Army was too fast!"
No matter how elite the German Imperial Army was, they could not overcome a numerical disadvantage of a hundred thousand men.
"We must abandon the tractors and join the battlefield immediately!"
The Revolutionary Guard's tractors were, in essence, self-propelled artillery and heavy tanks. They possessed ample firepower but lacked mobility. Ultimately, the Revolutionary Guard had no choice but to abandon their primary assets—the tractors—and sprint toward the battlefield with everything they had. Trotsky, wearing an irritated expression, also joined the fray.
"Ha, I knew this would happen."
They were bound to lose. Hoping for a miracle, Trotsky led his resistance to strike the Black Army's rear—or rather, to put on a performance as if they were striking it. While Shtal had used microphone broadcasts as a means of communication on the Serbian front, Trotsky had fought under endless disadvantages, much like in the Battle of Alsace-Lorraine. The more one uses deception, the more immune the enemy becomes. Yet, precisely because he could never overcome his disadvantages through raw force, he had been forced to study every conceivable method of deception. Microphone broadcasts were just one of those tricks.
Sigh, will this actually work...?
Trotsky broadcasted the sounds of explosions, gunfire, and roaring battle cries through the microphones. And then...
*BOOM!* *RAT-TAT-TAT-TAT!*
"CHARGE! FORWARD!"
Upon hearing Trotsky's deception, the Russian Black Army began to slowly fall back.
"What? Why on earth...?"
He had heard of the supreme commander, Yudenich. He was a general whose reputation within the White Army was as renowned as Brusilov's. Yet he was falling for such a clumsy deception? A trick that even the White Army used all the time?
"...It seems their internal affairs are a complete mess as well." Trotsky smirked.
While the Black Army was hesitating in confusion, the Revolutionary Guard finally arrived from afar. They had abandoned all their tractors and were maneuvering at breakneck speed. No matter how formidable the Revolutionary Guard's armored and aerial assets were, the mere arrival of 200,000 infantrymen was an overwhelming pressure. Ultimately, the Black Army had no choice but to hastily withdraw.
"Oh no, it's a trap by the Reds! Retreat, all forces retreat before the encirclement is complete!"
Shkuro, hearing the massive clouds of dust and the deafening roar of gunfire and shouting from the rear, hastily ordered a retreat. He began blowing the retreat bugles frantically. Naturally, this was done without even consulting the commander, Yudenich.
"Shkuro, you son of a bitch! What the hell do you think you're doing?!"
"Yudenich, because of a traitor like you, we are about to lose Belarus as well! If you have eyes, look behind you! We are surrounded!"
"You... absolute idiot...!"
Yudenich even rode across the battlefield himself, desperately trying to restore order to the chaotic ranks.
"No! It is not a retreat! The order was delivered in error! Hold your ground and make the Germans pay for this humiliation!"
Riding a single horse through the rain of bullets, Yudenich barely managed to rally their morale. Yet, they could no longer fight as effectively as they had at the start. Once soldiers have already turned their backs to flee, would they ever want to fight again? Furthermore, because of the time wasted in this chaos, Shtal's Revolutionary Guard had finally arrived.
Wait. They ran like madmen without even bringing their tractors. Should we retreat for now and ambush their tractor units later?
Seeing how he could calmly analyze the battlefield despite Shkuro's sheer incompetence, Yudenich was undoubtedly a master commander. However, Yudenich knew his own weaknesses just as well as he knew the enemy's. If he turned back west now, Shkuro would inevitably sabotage him again. Ultimately, Yudenich had no choice but to order a withdrawal.
"See? I was right! We must establish a defensive line behind the river immediately—"
"Shkuro, if you have eyes, look properly! Look at what is actually behind us!"
"Why, obviously Shtal's reinforcements—"
"No! It would have taken Shtal's reinforcements another half-day to arrive! What was behind us was nothing but the moronic Polish Resistance! A militia that flees at the sound of a single bullet!"
"..."
Yudenich clutched his head. No matter how good the result might be, a flawed process would always ruin it. That flawed process would relentlessly drag him down. And in this case, that flawed process was none other than the utterly useless political commissar, Shkuro.