Arc of Fire

He looked at Vasily, who was exceptionally tall, standing out even among the cadets who were already quite tall, easily distinguishable over the rows of people.

And that Filippov, obedient as ever, actually took down the marching drum strapped to his back and began to beat it.

From the drumbeat alone, it was impossible to tell what song it was, but Vasily immediately began to sing:

"Our march is long and hard~

"Soldiers, look ahead!”

Wang Zhong instantly recognized the song; it was “Departure,” but wasn’t it a work from the fifties or sixties?

The other cadets immediately joined in the singing:

"The team’s banner flutters in the wind, the commanders lead the way!”

Then they entered the song’s signature section; the “Departure” in Ante language sounded like a “bang” made with the mouth, the beauty of this song being its use of the word “Departure” repeatedly, like the pounding of the drum or artillery firing.

"Soldiers, advance, advance, advance!”

With the sound of “Departure,” the cadets began to move in unison, as if marching in step.

The chorus suddenly leaped from “natural minor” to “major,” opening up into a bright and clear sound:

"My dear girl

"On my way, I will write to you as I return!

"Hear the bugle calling, soldiers, depart!”

The railway workers cleaning blood on the opposite platform stopped and looked over across the tracks.

Even those severely wounded, barely hanging on to life, struggled to turn their gaze this way.

Yegorov also joined in the singing:

"Each soldier, brave and young,

"Their gaze sharp as an Eagle!

"We all have the highest glory

"For having achieved great deeds in battle!”

It was only then that Wang Zhong snapped out of his shock. He was infected by the vibrant energy and fearless courage of the youth and began to sing loudly, “Soldiers, advance! Advance! Advance! My dear, I will write to you, on my way as I return! Hear the bugle calling, soldiers, depart!”

After one round, Vasily began to whistle, his shrill whistle much like the screech of a seagull, mocking the storm with abandon!

As the song entered the second verse, a transport train coincidentally arrived at the station, its driver looking on in amazement at the soldiers swaying in unison on the platform.

After the anti-aircraft carriage passed, the countless young faces in the sealed freight cars looked at the platform and also began to sing loudly.

"Soldiers, advance, advance, advance!

"My dear, I will write to you, on my way as I return!

"Hear the bugle calling, soldiers, depart!”

In the grand chorus, it seemed as if the train itself was hastened by their singing!

At that moment, Wang Zhong could only think of one thing: There is only one kind of true heroism in the world, and that is to still love life after recognizing its true nature.

And on the battlefield, there is only one kind of true heroism, which is to gear up and set out again after recognizing the horrors of war.

He paced on the platform, each step landing on the beat.

At the end of the song, Wang Zhong said, “Vasily, for not following parade discipline, you will clean the latrines today. The drummer, you will do it with him.”

"Eh?” Vasily protested loudly, “Didn’t I just boost everyone’s morale?”

Wang Zhong replied, “That’s why you are not being confined. But breaking discipline is breaking discipline. Remember, you go to clean after everyone has gone to sleep tonight, and you’ll also have to carry the waste pails to the dung pit.”

Just then, Priest Popov came over: “Don’t take my job from me.”

He turned towards Vasily: “Boosting morale is commendable, but discipline must not be broken. After everyone has gone to sleep tonight, clean the latrines, and then carry the waste pails to the dung pit.”

The hell is the difference from my order!

Before Wang Zhong could complain, Popov turned to the priest holding the guard flag: “Give me the guard flag; I think this regiment really doesn’t need any formalistic stuff. They are worthy of this flag.”

Yegorov immediately protested: “The new recruits indeed have high spirits, but my veterans are even more spirited! And they earned that flag with their struggles! It should go to the veterans!”

Wang Zhong declared, “It’s all the same. Give it to me.”

Popov took the flag, slanted the flagpole, and fully unfolded the banner.

The white background, adorned with St. Andrew’s Cross, and then the Double-headed Eagle and the number 31, as well as the Infantry’s insignia.

To be honest, Wang Zhong always felt there was something off about this flag—the Double-headed Eagle was grand and lavish, yes, but—well, when the flag wasn’t unfurled, it somewhat resembled a white flag.

He shared his thoughts truthfully.

Vasily: “Pfft.”

Wang Zhong: “Do you want to continue cleaning toilets tomorrow?”

The thorn in the side immediately tightened his face and stood at attention, chest out.

Yegorov: “It’s not bad, at least St. Andrew’s Cross is blue. Carolingian’s flag is what really looks like a white flag.”

Pavlov frowned: “Their flag has a silver fleur-de-lis pattern on it, it’s just the silver on white that makes it hard to discern from afar.”

Complaints notwithstanding, Wang Zhong still took the Guard’s flag on behalf of Yegorov.

He suddenly realized he didn’t know what to do next with this flag, as he hadn’t seen this procedure before.

Was just handing it to Yegorov all there was to it?

As he was pondering, Popov said, “You should pass the flag to the color bearer; if there isn’t one, then you need to select one.”

Wang Zhong immediately looked toward Vasily, who lit up with excitement at once.

Theoretically speaking, Vasily was the tallest, and when Wang Zhong was in junior high, high school, and during university military training, it was always the tallest person who became the color bearer and walked at the very front of the class’ formation.

But he hesitated.

Would being a color bearer make one an easy target?

In the end, Wang Zhong handed the flag to the second tallest, Zakayev.

Vasily: “Why not me?”

Wang Zhong: “If you don’t want an extra day of toilet cleaning, shut it.”

Then Wang Zhong turned to the leader of the trainees’ formation: “Fall in, prepare to return to the barracks.”

"Yes, General sir! All present! Eyes right!”

————

Inside the barracks, the veterans were gathered on the parade ground, idly chatting, when suddenly someone ran past quickly, shouting, “They’re coming! Not just with the Priest, but also a whole bunch of new recruits! Quick, fall in!”

The veterans promptly stubbed out their cigarettes and started to fall into ranks, completing the formation in less than a minute.

Then the sentry at the gate of the barracks lifted the barrier gate and presented arms.

A tall new recruit carrying the Guard’s flag led the way at the front, followed by the new recruits arranged in four columns.

Observing the new recruits’ marching, the veterans murmured, “These guys march so well, are they really recruits?”

"They might have served in the reserves.”

"At least we won’t need to teach them how to march in formation.”

"Why are they still equipped with the old-fashioned bolt-action rifles? What happened to the Tokarevs we were promised?”

"No cloaks either!”

"Quiet!” barked the only unscathed Warrant Officer Sergeant Major of the regiment, “Shut your traps!”

A moment later, the trainees halted in front of the veterans, and at the command, they executed a crisp left turn to face the veterans.

Between the two groups, General Aleksei Konstantinovich Rokossovsky spoke loudly, “These are our reinforcements. You veterans are all squad leaders now. I will personally assign the new greenhorns to you! Those called out, step forward!”

————

Thirty minutes later, the only new recruit left, Vasily, looked at Wang Zhong with admiration and asked, “Did you really memorize all of our names?”

Wang Zhong thought to himself no, I cheated a bit, but you, lad, I definitely remembered.

"Yes,” he unapologetically admitted, “I said I would remember you all, remember every person who sacrifices. It’s my responsibility.”

Vasily nodded, then asked, “So… which ‘old senior sergeant’ will take me under his wing?”

Wang Zhong: “You’re a headache, and I don’t trust anyone else to handle you. Grishka!”

Grishka was Grigori’s nickname.

Sergeant Major Grigori stepped forward promptly: “Present!”

Wang Zhong: “You’re in charge of him! Teach him as much as you can about surviving on the battlefield before the war breaks out.”