Soon, through the crackling radio waves, Song Heping's clear and steady Arabic resonated in the ears of every Silia Governnt Army soldier entrenched in the ruins of Halaib.
"All the brothers defending Halaib, I am the new military advisor. You can call Song Heping."
The gunfire on the front line remained intense, but the background noise in many radio headsets seed to have quieted slightly as the soldiers listened intently.
"I know you've sacrificed many comrades. The rebels' tanks have cost you dearly. Now, I ask you to abandon the positions outside the city, retreat, and shrink back into the city."
The channel filled with slight disturbances and puzzled noises.
"I know this order confuses you and even frightens you. Retreat ans potentially being surrounded, possibly losing the last escape route, and only holding out until death! But, brothers, please think about why we are fighting?"
Song Heping's voice rose a notch, full of power: "Not for so big-shot far away in Moscow or the palace in Damascus! It's for the hos behind you! It's for your parents, wives, children, brothers, and sisters in Damascus! Once Halaib falls, next would be Damascus! Think about the plight of the 'Victory Front' and the '1515' occupied areas! Imagine how they would treat your families! Would they be driven and enslaved like livestock, or executed like trash?"
His words struck hard in the hearts of every soldier.
Many soldiers, in the midst of firing or bandaging wounds, slowed their actions, showing deeper fear and determination in their eyes.
"Retreat is not escaping! It's to fight more effectively in another way! Let the enemy's tanks into the city! Let their steel beasts turn blind and la in the narrow streets! Use your rifles, machine guns, and rocket launchers from windows, basents, and atop ruins to hit them hard! This will be their graveyard! You are veterans; you should know that in the suburbs, fighting tanks head-on is like using your weaknesses against the enemy's strengths. In the end, inevitable failure awaits."
"But if we draw them into the city center and engage them in urban warfare, we still have a chance to win! Moreover, as long as you can hold the city for one day and night, I promise! I promise you with my life, because I will stay in the city with you. If the city falls, I will also stake my life! Please believe !"
"The choice is in your hands."
Song Heping's voice gradually lowered, yet it beca more penetrating.
"Is it to take a step back, use the city to protect yourselves, kill the enemy more effectively, and protect your family? Or stay where you are, be crushed by enemy tanks, and leave your family to face the fate afterward?"
The radio channel fell into prolonged silence, with only the hiss of electricity and the distant muffled sounds of explosions.
Suddenly, a hoarse voice ca from a frontline channel: "For my daughter! I'll fight them! Follow the order, retreat into the city!"
Imdiately, a second, a third... countless voices sounded from different channels, rging into a torrent of deadly resolve:
"Swear to defend Halaib to death!"
"For the holand!"
"Bring the bastards in to fight!"
"Follow General Song's command!"
The voices were sowhat chaotic, the accents varied, but the determination to fight with backs against the wall ca across clearly through the radio waves, echoing back to the underground command post.
Admiral Jamal's eyes reddened. He straightened his back sharply and shouted into the microphone: "The entire army, heed the order! Execute the retreat command! Provide cover alternately, retreat to the predetermined city positions! Let the enemy taste the ferocity of urban warfare!"
"I will be with you, brothers!"
The Chef took a deep breath, patted Song Heping on the shoulder without saying a word, but his eyes said it all.
The order was swiftly issued.
The governnt army units, struggling on the front lines, began to retreat orderly and in stages towards the city center.
They used the ruins and previously arranged trap mines and obstacles to delay the pursuing forces, gradually retreating into the more complex urban environnt, more suitable for infantry combat.
This change was quickly captured by the insurgents—"Victory Front" front-line commanders.
They noticed the governnt army's resistance seed to be weakening and was retreating.
The news rapidly reached the "Victory Front" southern battle line headquarters.
Abu Omar, after hearing the front-line report brought by his subordinates, smiled proudly.
He turned to several confidants and foreign military advisors around him.
"Look! They can't hold on any longer! The Alamuk Brigade's flag is retreating! They are about to collapse!"
A confidant cautiously said, "Leader, be wary of deception. Although the governnt army suffered significant losses, such orderly retreat could be luring us into a trap, wanting to pull us into urban warfare."
"Urban warfare?" Abu Omar sneered, "Even in the city, are our tanks and armored vehicles afraid of their rifles and rocket launchers? Against absolute power, any ruse is futile!"
As if to confirm his words, the satellite phone on the table rang.
The caller ID showed Turkey.
Abu Omar respectfully answered the call. Monts later, his smile widened, even carrying a hint of fanaticism.
Hanging up the phone, he excitedly announced to everyone in the command: "Allah is great! Our great ally's intelligence agency just confird that those cowards in Moscow dare not intervene directly in the northern battle! HTS is about to take Idlib! 1515 is also advancing triumphantly in the east! Friends! This is a once-in-a-lifeti opportunity! Whoever enters Damascus first can dominate this land in the future!"
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