Chapter 42: The "Straight-A Student's" Handbook for Urban Warfare

What kind of otherworldly Racian grenadiers are these?!
Zhang Shan was completely dumbfounded.

That very night, the scene Zhang Shan witnessed the most was Racian soldiers casually hauling these anti-tank mines—each weighing a total of 5.17 kilograms and containing 3.6 kilograms of TNT explosives—tiptoeing up to the houses defended by the Yamato people, tossing them right through the windows, and blowing the Yamato occupants straight to kingdom come, men, women, and children alike.

"Despicable invaders, go talk to my anti-tank mine!"
"How on earth are you still alive after we’ve tried so hard?"

One Racian soldier miscalculated the fuse timing so drastically that before he could even run far enough after throwing the anti-tank mine, the house blew up. The fellow was instantly picked up by the shockwave and face-planted hard into the ground.
Miraculously, it was later discovered that this soldier only suffered a mild concussion, while all seven enemy soldiers inside the target house were completely wiped out.

Compared to the Racian grenadiers tossing "iron frisbees," the garbage grenade dischargers of the opposing Yamato troops were utterly pathetic.
They were utterly unreliable, possessed erratic trajectories, required lengthy operation times, and were just downright terrible in every conceivable way.

Of course, both sides severely lacked urban combat experience, resulting in a series of abysmal battles.
As a result, Zhang Shan witnessed plenty of eye-gouging spectacles: blackout regulations simply did not exist, running into the enemy meant scrambling frantically on all fours, and the retreat speed was faster than a certain five-star critic. Standing soldiers paid no attention to their fallen comrades, multiple men fought over a single firing lane, helmets blocked the aiming reticles of teammates, and some even aimed right at a teammate's backside, letting the latter get a rude awakening the moment their weapon accidentally discharged.
Absurdly, both sides were doing this.

The only redeeming quality... besides the TM-38 mines, the only thing worth mentioning was the close-combat prowess of both sides.
During a fierce brawl, an Ursine grabbed an Oni, smashed straight out a third-floor window, and not only used the opponent as a cushion underneath him upon landing, but also delivered several backhands that drove the Oni's head so deep into the mud it was practically impossible to pry out. Then, the Ursine dusted off his pants and sauntered away.

The entire night passed in a state of chaotic skirmishing.
By morning, the front-line feedback was: "Those square bombs work great, but could the explosive power be a little bigger?"
This phone call left Zhang Shan torn between laughter and tears.

Compared to the TM-62 anti-tank mines Zhang Shan was familiar with, the explosive load of the TM-38 was already quite substantial. Even the standard TM-62 only contained 5 kilograms of mixed explosives. Of course, those outrageously modified variants cranked up to 8 kilograms by crazed combat engineers were another story entirely.

You really earned your reputation, you Racians!
Antonlov blurted out, "Does anyone even remember these were originally anti-tank mines?"
A wave of good-natured laughter erupted in the command post.

However, over the next three days, the battle situation grew increasingly severe.
Even though the opposing Guannei Army had sent Type-B divisions into the city, this was precisely the peak period for the average military quality of the Yamato ghost troops. No matter how bad a Type-B division was, their marksmanship was still superior to the recruits of the Racian Homeland Defense Brigade and the Eighth Division.
On the Racian side, they barely managed to fight to a stalemate thanks solely to the advantages of the TM-38 and their rifles.

Here is a piece of dark humor: A Yamato soldier and a Racian soldier ran into each other at a street corner. Both raised their rifles simultaneously—bang! The Yamato soldier died.
The reason for this outcome was that even though the Racian Eighth Division used the Kar98k, with its overall length of 1,100 millimeters, it was still a fraction shorter than the Arisaka rifle.
In urban combat, a shorter firearm meant better mobility.
That tiny margin wiped out the reaction-time difference.
Many Racian soldiers won these sudden close-quarters duels precisely because of this.

After three days of fighting, upon learning that their own casualties exceeded 1,500 men daily, the intolerable [high honors graduate of the Electronic Frunze Military Academy] finally stepped up.
"What kind of training is this?!" Zhang Shan snapped, seemingly out of nowhere. "Give me one day, and every single unit rotating into the city must study the [Urban Combat Manual] I've compiled before they step foot inside!"
"Huh?!" The generals and staff officers in the command post were stunned.
Wait!
Isn't our Highness's military rank self-bought?
Do you actually know your stuff?

Half a day later, a group of orthodox military academy graduates were left dumbfounded.
[For any alley exceeding one hundred paces in length, a machine gun must be deployed at a convenient withdrawal point at either end, preferably equipped with a gun shield.]
[Clearing a building must be divided into a covering group and an assault group. The covering group uses rifles to pre-aim at opposing windows to provide covering fire for the assaulters at any moment.]
[Assaulters primarily use short arms, with pistols and automatic weapons being the best choice.]
[When encountering uncertain corners, grenades may be thrown in first to clear them.]
[Within an assault group, trailing soldiers must never point their muzzles at a comrade's body under any circumstances.]
[When one person moves, at least one person covers.]
[When crossing open ground, traverse it under cover as quickly as possible.]
...

Dozens of rules, big and small, each one paid for with the lives of countless predecessors.
In the eyes of the various generals, it felt like: 'Yet, impossibly, surprisingly, it actually... was summarized by this good-for-nothing playboy prince?'
In any field, the first person to establish a doctrine becomes its founding patriarch.
Zhang Shan was no exception.

Initially, generals and officers still doubted whether Zhang Shan's theories held any truth. Zhang Shan didn't care about that; with a single written order, he had the Thirteenth Division—which was about to be deployed to the defense of Red Pagoda City—summon all company commanders and found a plot of land near the command post for field instruction.

Up on a raised platform, Zhang Shan had his bodyguard unit demonstrate how to storm a building.
"First team, suppress the opposing windows with machine guns. Preferably two machine guns covering different rooms, plus a squad of riflemen watching the various window openings." With that, Zhang Shan shone a flashlight toward the window positions, signaling who was to watch which specific sector.
At the command, the machine gunners rattled off rapid fire, knocking down all the wooden board silhouettes representing hypothetical enemies along the building's windows.
"Second team, while the first team provides suppression, disperse and rush the building."
Soldiers from Zhang Shan's personal guard scattered and rushed toward the stairwell entrance.
"When rushing the building, one group covers with raised weapons to prevent enemies from charging out."
"The other group throws grenades to clear the area."
True to form, one group canted their bodies slightly and poked their weapons out to aim inside the stairwell, while the other group loudly tossed dummy training grenades inside to simulate clearing the path.
"Next step, machine gunners and covering elements hold the stairwell and directly clear the interior."
Another round of covering fire followed.
"Finally, when encountering heavily defended rooms where grenades are ineffective, you must blast through the wall."
This time, the guard unit withdrew, and two combat engineers rushed forward, utilizing an abandoned table to secure a TM-38 directly against the wall.
"Boom!" With a single blast, the wall was blown straight through.
Amidst the billowing smoke and dust, the guard unit demonstrators charged inside, shouting a resounding "Ura!"

Down below the platform, more than two hundred company and deputy company commanders burst into enthusiastic applause.
His Royal Highness the Prince is genuinely handing us weapons and equipment! He's even teaching us skills to save our lives!
Everyone was moved to tears.

If it had stopped there, the atmosphere would have been at most enthusiastic, but when Zhang Shan had someone bring out a crate of munitions and pull out a submachine gun, the atmosphere at the scene reached its absolute peak.
"Gentlemen, allow me to grandly introduce you to the ultimate urban combat weapon from the Alica Nation—the [Chicago Typewriter]!"