Major General Timofei
Teodorovic
3rd Guards
Cavalry Division, Steel Wind
7 Iyunya 1947
I set my binoculars down and exhale slowly.
“Comrade Koshka, ready our men. We strike within the hour,” I say.
“At once, comrade general,” was her terse reply. She started
to leave, but stopped mid-turn. “If I may ask…”
“…why here? Where better to establish a base of operations
for the kind of war we will be fighting? I must make do with what little forces
we have, and I have complete faith in your abilities to lead our men to victory
on the battlefield, no matter the cost,” I finish for her.
With a salute, she finally turns to leave. I light my pipe
and raise my binoculars, once again surveying the scene some few hundred meters
away. With all these Axis forces rampaging through town and the Allies
scrambling to meet them on the battlefield that they may hold their positions,
the best hope we have of securing our goal is to strike fast and hard. I will
observe these madmen rain death on each other, and only strike when the
opportunity presents itself. My men have been fighting long and hard, but
always on the sidelines. The reinforcements promised to us are certainly taking
their time, but we must persevere.
Our prize will hopefully turn the tide; it must, for our
future depends on it. We will know glory again, comrades.
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