Chapter 741: I Want to Try Indian Food

Wang Guojian's eyes lit up.

"Good! Relay the order to the tank units: full speed ahead! Infantry, follow! Tomorrow at noon, I will have lunch in Gradel City!"

The order was passed down, and the column's speed increased.

The tank engines roared louder, the trucks pushed to their limits, the soldiers clutched the vehicle panels, trembling wildly. Yet no one stopped, no one fell behind.

Wang Guojian climbed into the jeep and said to the driver, "Let's go ahead and take a look."

The jeep sped across the sand, kicking up a trail of dust.

He wanted to see Gradel with his own eyes, to see the city that was about to become a battlefield.

At three p. m., the vanguard had already advanced to a point fifty Distance from Gradel.

The sun began to shift westward, but the heat did not lessen at all. The desert was as hot as a steamer, the soldiers' uniforms soaked through with sweat, clinging to their bodies. Half of the water in their canteens had been drunk, yet half the journey remained.

A tank suddenly halted. The driver stuck his head out of the turret and shouted, "Engine overheating! Needs cooling!"

The vehicles behind also stopped.

Wang Guojian's jeep caught up; he jumped out and walked to the front of that tank.

"What's going on?"

The driver, drenched in sweat, said, "Commander, it's too hot. The engine can't take it, we need a break."

Wang Guojian glanced at the sun, then at the map.

Fifty Distance. We must arrive before nightfall, or tomorrow we won't make it in time to have lunch in Gradel.

He gritted his teeth and said, "All vehicles, stop for twenty minutes. Add water, cool down, inspect the engines. After twenty minutes, we must set out!"

The order was relayed, and the whole column halted.

The soldiers jumped out, crouching in the trucks' shadows to drink. Some simply lay on the sand, panting heavily. The tank crews opened the hoods, poured water onto the engines, which sizzled and emitted plumes of white smoke.

Wang Guojian stood in the shadow of a tank, drinking water, watching the distant dunes draw ever nearer.

Chen Dala came over and whispered, "Commander, will the Yingguo people discover us?"

Wang Guojian shook his head.

"Discover? They didn't even post sentries, how could they discover us? Indian soldiers are that incompetent; the Yingguo let them guard the city, they'd rather bury their heads in the sand to sleep."

He paused.

"By the time they wake up, we'll already be there."

After twenty minutes, the column set out again.

The sun sank lower, the sky grew darker. The tanks switched on their headlights, forming a long ribbon of light in the darkness. The trucks followed, their lights merging into a single blaze, like a fire dragon crawling across the desert.

At nine p. m., the vanguard reached a point five Distance outside Gradel City.

Wang Guojian ordered all headlights off and to conceal themselves on the spot. The tanks and trucks halted in a shallow hollow; the soldiers disembarked to rest, but they could not make fire, could not speak, could not emit any sound.

The scouts changed into civilian clothes and crept forward toward Gradel in the darkness.

Wang Guojian leaned against a tank's tracks, smoking. The ember flickered in the darkness like a firefly.

Chen Dala came over and whispered, "Commander, you should get some sleep. There won't be any movement before dawn."

Wang Guojian shook his head.

"Can't sleep."

He stared at the pitch-black night ahead, silent for a long while.

"Chen Dala, tell me, what are the Yingguo doing now?"

Chen Dala thought for a moment.

"Sleeping. This hour is when people are most drowsy."

Wang Guojian nodded.

"Then let them sleep. Once they wake, they will never be able to sleep again."

At four a. m., the scouts returned.

They brought intelligence on Gradel: the British Army indeed had only one battalion, about eight hundred men, all Indian soldiers. Their garrison was in a barracks north of the city; only a few sentries on the wall were dozing. The city gate was open, with no guard posts at all.

Wang Guojian smiled after hearing the report.

"Relay to all units: prepare to attack. We'll strike at first light."

The light grew faint, and Gradel City's outline became clearer in the dawn.

It was a typical Indian town: ochre walls, low houses, a few mosque minarets piercing the skyline. Outside, wheat fields stretched, verdant, starkly contrasting with the surrounding desert.

Wang Guojian lifted his binoculars and stared for a long time.

Then he set the binoculars down and said to the nearby Chen Dala, "Relay the order: attack."

The tanks started moving.

Over a hundred tanks split into three columns, flanking Gradel. The engines' roar was especially piercing in the morning silence, the tracks grinding the sand and raising clouds of dust.

The few dozing sentries on the wall were startled awake. They rubbed their eyes, stared at the approaching steel torrent, and froze for three seconds.

Then they dropped their rifles and ran.

When the tanks burst through the gate, the Indian soldiers inside had just risen from their beds. Some were still pulling up trousers, some ran barefoot outward, some raised guns to resist, but before they could aim they were shredded by the tanks' machine guns.

The fighting lasted less than an hour.

Of the eight hundred Indian soldiers, over two hundred were killed; the rest were taken prisoner.

Wang Guojian stood on the central square, watching the captives crouched on the ground. They clasped their heads with both hands, trembling all over, their eyes filled with terror.

An Indian officer was dragged before him. The man wore a crisp uniform, but his face was covered in ash, and a large bruise darkened his right eye socket—no one knew who had struck it.

"Are you the commander?" Wang Guojian asked.

The man nodded and, in halting English, said, "Yes. I request that according to the Geneva Convention—"

Wang Guojian waved his hand, cutting him off.

"The Geneva Convention? Come talk to me when you Yingguo obey the convention."

He turned and said to Chen Dala, "Watch over these prisoners. When Yang Guoyan captures Moke Lan Port, send them to the rear together."

Chen Dala nodded, "Yes!"

Wang Guojian glanced at his watch.

It was 10:30 a. m.

He smiled.

"Chen Dala, I said we would have lunch in Gela De City. Now lunch is still an hour and a half away."

He patted Chen Dala's shoulder.

"Let's go find a restaurant and try Indian food."

At the same time, off the coast of Karachi.

The sky was just brightening, and a thin morning mist hung over the sea. Waves gently lapped the hull, producing a rhythmic splash. In the distance, the outline of Karachi Port appeared faintly in the mist, like a city floating on the sea.

Li Te stood on the bridge of the Zhenyuan, holding a telescope and watching the coastline draw nearer. He had been standing there for a full two hours, motionless.

Chief of Staff Lin Huaiyuan walked to his side and whispered, "General, the reconnaissance aircraft reports that there are no Yingguo main warships in Karachi Port. Only two old cruisers and a few gunboats."

Li Te nodded, saying nothing.