Middle Eastern tyrants

Chapter 162 Amir's Left Hook

Zion, Lamat David Air Force Base.

Sergeant Elie was kissing his fiancée Daphne goodbye. The two looked into each other's eyes, full of affection, and didn't care at all about other people's eyes when they kissed.

Ellie ran his hand down his fiancée’s neck to her buttocks, and both of them could feel the reluctance and love of their impending separation.

Daphne spoke first: "I love you, Elie."

Sergeant Elie looked into his fiancée's bright eyes and said affectionately, "I love you too."

His gaze then fell on the crystal pendant on Daphne's collar, a gift he had given her the day before, after which the two had spent a passionate and wild night together.

Even with countless sweet words, it was time to part ways. Sergeant Elie looked at his squad leader Mosh standing behind him and said helplessly, "Wait for me to come back, darling. I promise we'll see each other again soon, and I'll buy you an even bigger diamond ring then."

His words immediately made Daphne smile and squint. To be fair, she was indeed a very charming woman.

The two lingered together for a while longer before reluctantly saying goodbye.

Seeing that Elie looked like she was about to be bewitched, the squad leader Mosh couldn't help but laugh and said, "I had no idea when you got a fiancée?"

“I met Daphne in a bar in Haifa three months ago. She was both well-behaved and clingy, and I felt that our personalities were a good match.” Sergeant Eli’s lips involuntarily curled up as he recalled the sweet memories.

“Oh.” Mosh nodded, then warned, “But you’d better be careful. There are a lot of girls targeting single soldiers these days, and they’re going to have sham marriages with them so that they can get a large sum of compensation when they die in battle.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Sergeant Elie shrugged. “Anyway, I’ve had a very happy few months.”

Mosh's expression was slightly helpless, and he said, "General Gorodish's orders have come down. He wants our 890th Airborne Brigade to attack the rear of the Arab allies and cut off their supply lines. We're leaving tomorrow."

Sergeant Elie scoffed, "Gorodish is no air force commander at all. He's just a sycophant to the prime minister, always coming up with terrible ideas! If it weren't for him, how could our air force have suffered such heavy casualties?"

He was referring to the general offensive launched by the air force by General Gorodish two days before the Yom Kippur War. As a result, the air force was intercepted by MASR SA-6 anti-aircraft missiles as soon as it reached the airspace over the Suez Canal, resulting in the loss of fifty fighter planes and a large number of ace pilots in just one day.

"I think he just wants to use our lives to gain merit for himself," Sergeant Ellie sneered, "and then shed a couple of fake tears afterward!"

“Alright, stop badmouthing your superiors behind their backs,” Mosh shook his head. “We’re just low-ranking soldiers. We just have to obey orders from above.”

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

"General, news has come from the First Armored Division."

Lu Lin looked up from the map: "Speak."

The other staff officers also turned around.

The communications soldier stood at attention with the telegram in hand: "Our unit has captured the Yamuk Valley position as planned at 4:30 a.m. The remaining enemy forces have been defeated and are retreating towards Kunetra."

After a brief pause, the communications soldier continued his report: "However, the Yamuq River Valley is extremely treacherous, and the enemy is putting up a fierce resistance by relying on the reverse slope fortifications. During the attack, our vanguard armored battalion suffered heavy losses, and the damage rate of technical equipment was high. All combat units have run out of ammunition and fuel and need battlefield resupply and rest. We are temporarily unable to organize the next phase of the offensive."

Won!

Despite hearing reports of heavy casualties, the news of victory still brought an irrepressible cheer to the command post, with some young staff officers clapping and celebrating.

Lu Lin and Ibrahim exchanged a glance, both seeing the relief in each other's eyes.

They anticipated a tough battle, but they didn't expect Bandar to overcome this challenge so quickly.

"Now we've kicked open the gateway to the Golan Heights!" Lu Lin pumped his fist excitedly, his eyes fixed intently on the map. "Our next step is to take Kunetra, which is garrisoned by the Zion Central Army, and then march north to completely conquer the Golan Heights!"

Quneitra is a strategic location in the Golan Heights connecting Haifa and Damascus. Due to several wars, its residents have long been evacuated, leaving only ruins and dense fortifications, making it a veritable "ghost town".

“But judging from Bandar’s wording, the casualties are probably quite high,” Ibrahim said, looking at the telegram. “He’s not usually the type to emphasize ‘significant losses.’”

“After all, he’s the commander of a division now,” Lu Lin’s smile slowly faded. “A battle like this, attacking an uphill valley, is fought with blood and iron. I understand his difficulties. Immediately draw troops and equipment from the reserves to replenish his losses. Also, have the logistics units spare no effort to ensure the lifeline between the First Division and the Yamuk Valley is secured, and restore the First Division’s combat capability as quickly as possible!”

"Yes, sir!" The adjutant acknowledged the order and turned to leave quickly. Lu Lin then walked to the huge war zone map, with Ibrahim following tacitly beside him.

"Yibo, I feel that our next battle plan may need to be changed."

"What do you mean?" Ibrahim asked, following beside him.

“Here.” Lu Lin pointed to the plains by the Sea of ​​Galilee: “The Zion’s defensive line on the north side of the Hashim Valley was relatively weak because they calculated that even if we broke through from here, we would be met with a counterattack from the Central Army, which was on higher ground.”

“But things are different now,” Lu Lin pointed northward: “We have taken the Yamuk Valley, which is equivalent to having the initiative to attack the southern plains of the Golan Heights! Our armored formations can surge in through this gap and sweep across the entire southern plains to the northeast, until they open up a safe enough offensive corridor for our main force!”

"Then—" Lu Lin gave a bottom-up command: "We will join forces with the First Armored Division to encircle Kunetra from both sides and wipe out the Central Army in Zion in one fell swoop!"

Ibrahim stared at the map, and a clear image instantly flashed into his mind: they were like a boxer, Bandar was like the big hand choking the Central Army, and Lu Lin's tactics were like a vicious left hook to Quneitra!
(Amir throws a left hook)
With this series of moves, even the most resilient Zion army deployed in the Golan Heights will likely be completely routed.

(Here's another image to illustrate why we chose to attack the Hashim Valley first, then Quneitra, instead of directly attacking the Golan Heights.)
“Now it’s finally our turn to attack Zion from both sides,” Ibrahim laughed.

“Yes, that’s right.” Lu Lin also smiled: “I hope that Hilbert doesn’t get a heart attack from our beating. I’m counting on him saving his strength to see how we take Damascus.”

The two looked at each other and laughed.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

"What?! The Yarmukha Valley is lost?!"

Prime Minister Hilbert slammed the document in his hand onto the table, making the pen holder jump.

He nearly fainted from anger. He stared intently at his most trusted commander, Commander Moda, beside him: "Didn't Shmuel promise me that he would hold the Hashim River line like a nail? How come the southern gate has been kicked open like a shovel?"

Commander Moda's forehead was also beaded with sweat: "We haven't received feedback from the front yet; we haven't received a complete battle report from Shmuel."

"Then go ask them quickly!!"

Commander Morda quickly left the Prime Minister's office, his steps as swift as a shadow.

A brief silence fell over the office. Hilbert took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down, and then turned his gaze to General Yesavishin, the Commander-in-Chief who had been standing silently in front of the map.

“Yesha,” the Prime Minister’s voice regained its composure, “tell me, if you were Amir, what would you do next?”

General Yeshavishin pondered for a moment, then gestured on the military map and said, "I'm afraid I'll use the Yarmouk Valley as a foothold and then attack Quneitra. This will cut off the Golan Heights' supplies and give us a commanding view of Damascus and the entire Galilee region."

"Then what should we do?" Prime Minister Hilbert asked impatiently.

"Perhaps... we have to consider a nationwide mobilization."

General Yesavishin thought for a moment, and finally brought up the plan that the Prime Minister least wanted to mention: "The current expedient measure is to urgently transfer the garrison troops stationed in the Haifa area to the front line, while awaiting the arrival of subsequent mobilization forces..."

“What if we could spare an armored division from the Phoenician campaign?” Hilbert asked hopefully. “Would that avoid mobilization?”

General Yessavichen hesitated for a moment, but ultimately decided not to press the Prime Minister further: "This may temporarily alleviate the crisis, but I still maintain that full mobilization is the fundamental solution."

"Then let your persistence last a little longer!" Hilbert, as if grasping at a lifeline, immediately ordered, "Send a telegram to the Phoenician front now, ordering Major General Gol's armored division to immediately disengage from the battle and head south at full speed to reinforce the Central Army!"

He stared intently at Yesavishin, his tone leaving no room for argument: "Remember, this is the plan you personally assured me would work!"

Yesavishin's Adam's apple bobbed, and he finally just mumbled, "...Yes, Your Excellency the Prime Minister."

"Damn Amir."

Hilbert felt terrible: "How did such a young man suddenly appear in Arabia?"

(End of this chapter)