Very Wrong Reincarnation: Isekai with Game Nation

Vol. 3 Chapter 6

Yugoslav People’s Army Supreme Command, High Command Bunker – Bosnia
July 15th, 1978

The room, often used for celebrating victory after victory, now carried an atmosphere of unease among the gathered officers. The table, covered in maps, reports, and hastily scribbled notes, reflected not triumphs but losses. Scattered among them were blue-painted papers labeled with NATO air and ground units, suspected as provisional. No one spoke as they waited for Tito to say something, his gaze fixed on a cluster of red lines marking the Yugoslav advance into Sanctium territory.

General Ivan Gošnjak broke the silence, clearing his throat. “Comrade Marshal, the situation is worsening. We’ve lost twenty-two Jastrebs and eleven Galebs in the last four months. Anti-aircraft fire and those damn prop planes are bleeding us. The bombing runs are effective, but our losses aren’t sustainable.”

Colonel-General Stane Potočar leaned forward, rubbing his temples. “Low-altitude attacks are the problem. Our pilots swoop down, and those Sanctium prop planes swarm them. Their speed gives them an edge for bombing and strafing, but the prop planes can still hit them if they get too close.”

“Some of our aircraft losses are accidents,” added Air Force Chief Lieutenant-General Anton Tus. “Eight crashes, and we’ve lost two transports. This isn’t just enemy action—fatigue and overwork are taking a toll on the pilots and ground crews.”

Admiral Mamula tapped a pencil against his notepad. “Speaking of fatigue, partisanship is rising in the occupied territories. Sanctium soldiers ambush our men, and the locals are starting to fight back. It’s not a full-scale rebellion yet, but it’s heading there.”

The room went silent again.

General Gošnjak spoke cautiously. “We’ve lost four thousand men so far, with twenty thousand wounded. We’ve secured four oil depots—two large, two small—but even those aren’t enough to meet the country’s needs. One of the larger depots was sabotaged before we could take it. We’re holding it, but there’s little left to extract.”

Admiral Mamula raised an eyebrow. “Sabotage seems to be Sanctium’s only response to our advances. We’ve already got intel about them laying mines on roads and demolishing bridges. Any further attempts to secure oil depots will likely result in them being blown to pieces before we can get our hands on them.” Murmurs ensued around the room.

Colonel-General Potočar gestured toward a map. “There’s worse news. Intelligence from captured prisoners suggests Sanctium controls four continents. Their navy rivals the Americans post-war, with dozens of carriers and battleships. Their territories are twice the size of the British Empire at its peak. Yet their core population is comparable to the United States. They’re not shy about having more determined fighters from their core regions compared to conscripts from their colonies, who are bound to betray or defect—something the British struggled with during the war.”

“Ridiculous,” scoffed Tus. “They’re large, yes, but weak.”

Potočar responded, “That navy of theirs hasn’t been concentrated yet. Yes, weak. But if they could muster their fleets like the Americans did at Iwo Jima and aim them at us, it would be catastrophic. For now, they’re not doing anything, but the thought of them coming at us in full strength is a nightmare.”

“They’re both too large and too weak—what an irony,” said Gošnjak grimly. “Toppling them isn’t going to be quick—or cheap, perhaps impossible.” His tone suggested that they had stepped on a griffon’s tail: a gargantuan but weak nation, yet one with no clear prospect of being defeated. “To make things worse, they’ve discovered F-14s—the American Ferraris you don’t want to see on the battlefield.”