Cannon Fire Arc

Wang Zhong: "Our department will establish a dedicated feedback division as soon as possible. We will inform all units of the contact address in writing. You can send us letters with any opinions you have about the aircraft.

"Your post-war experience summaries will also be sent to us for reference in improving weapons.

"I will ensure that engineers cannot ignore your opinions!"

Wang Zhong glanced at the engineers.

"If an engineer insists that their design is the best, they must go to the front line and pilot their creation for a year's worth of missions."

Upon hearing this, Dratchenko immediately laughed, "That's a good one, an excellent idea! Even if his excellency the engineer can't pilot an aircraft, he can still serve as a rear gunner."

Rear gunners on the Il-2 had a mortality rate many times higher than the pilots, since enemy aircraft mainly approached from the rear to attack.

The engineer, who had just been obstinate, now turned pale: "No, no, you can't do this. The Empire has trained me for so many years; you can't let me die like a common soldier!"

Wang Zhong: "Why not? In fact, many engineers have died in the past half year of battle. What makes you so special? No, I don't think you are. Since you are so stubborn in your belief that your weapon design approach is perfect, then prove it to us."

The engineer wore a bitter expression.

At this point, Wang Zhong suddenly had an idea—why not recruit those who had already experienced the horrors of war from the front line to become designers?

On Earth, there were those who fought against the Sturmtigers during the great war and then continued their studies after the war concluded, eventually becoming outstanding experts.

What if they were allowed to return to their studies prematurely and become experts, would that work?

Wang Zhong pondered for a moment, then decided to write an article, calling for college students who had survived the flames of war to come back and shine in a more important area with the knowledge they had gained on the front lines.

But he no longer wanted to write by hand, so he would have Vasily learn to use the typewriter as soon as possible!

While thinking this, Wang Zhong said goodbye to Dratchenko and went straight down the stairs with Grigori.

————

Dratchenko watched as General Rokossovsky's figure disappeared around the corner, then turned to the engineer: "I warmly welcome you to become a rear gunner here."

The engineer's lips trembled for a while before he managed to squeeze out a sentence, "The redesign of aircraft rebalancing takes months, especially the synchronization gear for the machine guns. It requires many tests to ensure that the guns fire only when the propellers are not in the way..."

Dratchenko: "Then make the changes. Actually, we have another idea. Remove the machine guns, save the weight of the guns and the ammunition, and carry more large-caliber rockets instead. We have a thought, to convert the BM-13's rockets into aerial rockets with less propellant and a larger warhead."

The engineer gaped: "Is...is that suitable?"

Dratchenko: "Of course it is suitable. Actually, there are already ground crews making those changes, and we can carry twice as many rockets! We use the machine guns to gauge the distance when attacking ground targets, then fire the rockets."

Engineer: "Then how do you face enemy fighters?"

Dratchenko burst into laughter: "Do you think we can use forward firepower when facing enemy fighters? Don't you know how cumbersome the thing you designed is?"

The pilots who had come with Dratchenko also laughed.

The engineer's face turned red at their laughter.

Dratchenko then became serious and patted the engineer's shoulder, "Make good improvements. I see General Rokossovsky is quite reasonable. If what you create has no issues, he won't send you to the front lines."

After saying this, Dratchenko turned around and waved to his followers, "Let's go! Let's go back and tell the guys about today's happenings. General Rokossovsky really understands planes. Harlamov from the Fighter Regiment wasn't spouting nonsense; everyone thought he was talking in his cups, but it turned out to be true!"

————

On Wang Zhong's side, he had just left the Ordnance Department and checked his watch—it was nearly dark. In Ye Fort at this season, it got dark very early, while Ludmila was still at the Summer Palace having afternoon tea with Empress Olga.

Wang Zhong deeply realized how high the latitude of Ante's territory was.

Wang Zhong got into the car, and the driver immediately turned around and asked, "Where to?"

"Back to the Rokossovsky Estate," Wang Zhong commanded after a second of thought.

After all, it had been a tiring day of running around. He needed to rest at the estate and once Vasily arrived, he could hand him the typewriter and start drafting documents.

First, finalize the technical specifications for the 100 mm gun carrier, then address the new committee's venue, staff composition, and so on...

Wang Zhong couldn't help but press his forehead, there were so many troublesome matters. Perhaps he should simply have Pavlov transferred to this committee to take on the heavy lifting.

Pavlov was firstly trustworthy, and secondly had strong work capabilities. He was certainly up to the task.

————

At Kubinka, headquarters of the Guard's First Mechanized Infantry Division, Pavlov suddenly sneezed several times. The spray of saliva and mucus soiled the documents on the desk.

He hurriedly pulled out a handkerchief to wipe it clean, cursing while he wiped, "Surely, my wife is complaining about me again."

Yegorov: "Complaining about what? You've been stationed in the capital and still haven't gone home to live?"

"What else?" Pavlov clicked his tongue, "Sometimes I really envy you. Your wife is right there in the military hospital. When are you having your wedding?"

Yegorov: "Our thinking is that in times like this, there's no need to waste time on a wedding. Now even food has begun to be rationed, and even the laundry units supplied to the troops are allocated on a quota basis. It's not appropriate to have a wedding now."

The combatants and the key positions of the logistics personnel were still supplied with food according to normal standards, while the supply situation for hired labor was not as optimistic.

Nelly, as one who was only nominally a laborer, still managed to eat comparatively well.

Of course, Nelly wasn't dining in Kubinka now; in line with her wishes, her rations were allocated to several laundry aunts who had children at home.

General Rokossovsky's rations had been handled in a similar manner.

Pavlov: "My wife scolds me that it's partly because I can't secure more rations for the family. We lost Kazarlia, but with so many people being evacuated to the east, who knows, people might starve next year."

Yegorov nodded solemnly and changed the subject: "Your wife is from Kazarlia too?"

"Yes, but once she came to Ye Fort to study, she started considering herself solely as a person from Ye Fort. She even has begun to scoff at me, thinking I'm a bit of a country bumpkin."

After Pavlov finished speaking, Yegorov showed a bitter smile: "If we can't fight our way back, then we'll always be nothing but country bumpkins."

"We will fight our way back, I believe in the general." Pavlov took a sip of tea.

————

Wang Zhong had just returned to the entrance of his estate when he saw Vasily standing there with a bag, looking bewildered at the vast manor.

"Why not go in? What are you doing standing outside?" Wang Zhong said as he got out of the car and walked up the steps to the entrance. He gave Vasily's shoulder a punch.

Vasily: "No, this estate is just too luxurious. Isn't your family's main fief in Kazarlia?"

Wang Zhong: "I'm not sure about the details, but this house appears to have been bought from some local nobles. It's probably been a while. Come on, let's get inside. Do you know how to use a typewriter?"

Vasily: "Sort of."

Wang Zhong: "Perfect, I have a lot of documents to draft tonight and was worried there'd be no one to help."

Vasily was dragged by Wang Zhong towards the main building of the estate, acting like a young girl being pulled into a brothel by a madam: "No, I really only know a bit. I thought an adjutant did military work, like updating maps or something."

Wang Zhong: "Oh please, you say you don't know composition, and then you go and write two songs that are all the rage in Ante. That's not just doing well; you are the empire of Ante's pop music scene."

Vasily: "But I really can't type…"

In the midst of their conversation, Wang Zhong had already dragged Vasily into the hall, just as the butler Mikhail came out to meet them: "Your Grace, the work tools for Mr. Vasily are ready."

Because Wang Zhong's brother, Peter, had inherited the title of the Rokossovsky family, the butler didn't refer to him as "master" but as "Your Grace."

After all, calling him "Second Young Master" wasn't quite suitable for Wang Zhong anymore.

Wang Zhong: "Good, lead the way quickly, let's see what Vasily here is capable of."

————

An hour later, Wang Zhong looked at Vasily's output.

Vasily: "I told you, I only know how to use the typewriter, using it to transcribe articles quickly is tough."

Wang Zhong: "Alright, step aside, I'll do it myself."

Typing, how hard could it be! Wang Zhong thought to himself; what a joke, back in our glorious days of being chosen by the gods of Zaun to play LOL and spew messages at teammates, we typed like we were playing the piano!

And not just any piece, but the damn "Flight of the Bumblebee."

He took Vasily's seat, pushing the typewriter's roller back to its original position, ready to start typing.

"100mm gun carrier technical specifications"

After finishing that line, he was about to start another, hit the carriage return, and continued typing; then he realized the letters were misaligned, lining up right next to the last character of the line before.

Wang Zhong paused for a second before realizing he needed to slide the roller back to the starting position.

He tore off the crazily typed paper and started again.

But after two lines, there was another problem.

This mechanical typewriter was nowhere near as convenient as a computer; formatting and such had to be manually adjusted by the typist.

On top of that, the keyboard of a mechanical typewriter was much stiffer than even the toughest mechanical keyboard, and Wang Zhong's hands were already protesting after just two lines.

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Wang Zhong looked towards Vasily.

Vasily: "See, you can't do it either!"

Wang Zhong pursed his lips as he looked at him.

Vasily: "Manual labor then? No problem. Once I put on the adjutant's armband, I'll carry that and go."

Wang Zhong: "I feel like you're not afraid of manual labor anymore. In that case, I order you to learn the typewriter, and within a week be able to type a 10,000-word article in a day!"

Vasily's mouth dropped open: "No, you can't do this to me!"

Just then, the study room door opened and Ludmila entered, giving Wang Zhong a charming smile: "Alyosha, I'm back."

After these words, she turned her head towards the door: "Come in, let me introduce you to Alyosha—Duke Rokossovsky."