Youjo Senki - Volume 12 - Chapter 4.1

[chapter] IV A Temporary Visitor

DECEMBER 11, UNIFIED YEAR 1927, OUTSKIRTS OF THE ILDOAN ROYAL CAPITAL/IMPERIAL FRONT LINE BASE

Tanya von Degurechaff is a firm believer in an in-depth training regimen. I know the value of constantly drilling seemingly mundane movements and committing them to muscle memory.

Training is always important.

At the same time, training that’s impractical for actual combat is useless. It’s just as bad as using nothing but actual combat as a soldier’s only form of training. Now, it goes without saying that combat experience is valuable, but it has its limits.

Can a soldier who fights well in the trenches replicate their skills in a tank battle or when conducting maneuver warfare? Does it let them understand deep operations? No, and that’s precisely where training comes in—it allows soldiers to broaden the breadth of their experience.

Actual experience is undoubtedly precious by nature, but those who hold such experience above all else are bound to suffer immense consequences.

I believe two things are paramount on the battlefield: uninhibited critical thinking and the gumption to seize the initiative. Additionally, I place great importance on cost-effectiveness.

“Yes, experience is wonderful. But first and foremost, the tuition is too high.”

Far too high, at that!

And yet, experience can only provide empirical knowledge. Relying purely on magnificent experience is what leads commanders to mindlessly march their troops into machine-gun fire and call it military doctrine. The reverse is true as well. Staying on the defensive because the prospect of attacking is too frightening is what the French army did during World War II after learning from their experiences in World War I.

There’s no denying the value of combat experience, but soldiers can’t afford to stop thinking. It’s crucial to always strive for improvement by thinking critically.

Luckily, it’s possible to iron out the kinks in training. Better to learn those lessons somewhere other than the battlefield, where mistakes are paid for in blood.

In any case, this strange lull in the fighting with the Ildoan and the Unified States forces is the perfect chance to evaluate how well the Kampfgruppe can adapt to positional warfare during the peninsular campaign.

To put it bluntly, the results are bad. Really bad.

I’m at a loss as I watch my unit make fools of themselves for the first time in a long while.

“What is this disgrace?!”

I’ve been a little anxious about this for a while now. That’s why I wanted to confirm my suspicions with an exercise, and I thought I knew what to expect, but…there’s a limit to what’s acceptable.

“You’re supposed to be our army’s elites! Have you idiots forgotten the sacrifices of your comrades on the Rhine?!”

I’m livid at the performance of her officers, the ones I’ve placed so much faith in. It might have been worth a chuckle if they were still pretending to be inept. These are the unstoppable soldiers who led the way in securing the Ildoan capital and then drove south to seize additional territory, but even they can’t be good at everything. However, if their fundamental soldiering skills have grown dull, then it’s a massive problem.

This Kampfgruppe is always the tip of the spear in blitzkrieg and maneuver warfare. My subordinates are masters of mobility—the same men and women who’ve held the line in the east. But when it comes to a little Rhine-style trench warfare? Wretched is too generous to describe the crap job they’re doing!

“It’s supposed to be a defensive position! Even moles can dig a hole! You’re supposed to be humans! Use your brains! Make trenches! Make them right!”

Lieutenant Serebryakov is close by, so she has a front row seat to Tanya’s shock. Of the entire battalion, the only ones doing a somewhat acceptable job are the mages under Major Weiss’s command. All I can do is complain to my ever-faithful adjutant.

“This is just appalling. They’ve been deployed so long that they forgot everything they learned in training.”

“Our experience in the east was…something different. It’s also worth noting that the majority of our Kampfgruppe didn’t see action on the Rhine front. For most of them, this is probably their first real taste of trench warfare.”

I shake my head in disbelief.

“Even if that’s true, everything they need to know is written in the manual. NCOs and officers should have read it.”

“The standards have fallen dramatically since the war started. Not to mention, the soldiers have their hands full just going about their daily duties…”

I let out another sigh. The Ildoans seem perfectly capable of erecting proper fortifications without ever having experienced war. Their devastatingly poor morale and lack of will to fight are major problems, but at least they look the part!

Biting back another sigh, I reluctantly agree with my adjutant, at least on the surface.

“I know that. I also know my desire for the troops to perform beyond their actual capabilities is unreasonable, but a commanding officer’s inaction is paid for in body bags.”

Tanya’s adjutant starts to respond by saying, “That’s…,” but Tanya stops her with a wave.

“The Kampfgruppe’s manpower is not limitless, and there’s no hope of getting replacements. The Empire can’t afford to squander the lives of these soldiers. Our nation is completely broke, whether we like it or not.”

I shake my head as I peer up at the blue skies of Ildoa. I was so confident in the training my subordinates had undergone. This is unacceptable. To think we’d lose such crucial organizational knowledge.

“I may have put too much faith in my Kampfgruppe.”

“For what it’s worth, we have consistently produced results…”

I nod, acknowledging her point. Indeed, the unit’s accomplishments can’t be ignored. However, no organization or company can be judged by results alone, nor should it. There are always potential risk factors that must be thoroughly investigated, which is precisely why I’m putting the unit through its paces like this in the first place.

The primary cause for my foul mood is the construction of what are supposed to be trenches. The holes being dug are just “good enough,” and the complete lack of intent to turn any of it into a permanent defensive position is apparent.

It’s possible that the troops see little purpose in trenches after plowing through the enemies’ defenses so easily. Things wouldn’t be so bad if only a handful of soldiers shared this sentiment, but it’s the same no matter where I look…

I question some soldiers digging nearby.

“Who ordered you to dig eastern front trenches? Was it Lieutenant Tospan?”

“Yes, Colonel. We’re following Lieutenant Tospan’s orders.”

Just as I expected. It’s painful to see veteran-enlisted and NCOs alike mindlessly accept orders to construct eastern front–style trenches. Setting my disappointment aside for the moment, I give a formal response.

“Good work, soldier. Sorry for interrupting you.”

Letting them get back to work, I raise my voice to call for my officer.

“Tospan! Where is Lieutenant Tospan?!”

Tanya’s voice can cut through even the din of an active battlefield. There’s no doubt the infantry commander heard it because he jumps out of one of the trenches and comes running. Tospan is met by a menacing glare and a barked order fit for the battlefield.

“Start over. Right now! And do it right this time!”

“Colonel? Is there a problem…?”

“There’s nothing but problems, Lieutenant! That’s my problem!”

Usually, Lieutenant Grantz would have been able to flawlessly provide the lieutenant with some much-needed support, much like how his unit protected Tospan’s infantry during combat. However, he and his company have been confiscated by General Zettour—a point of pain for everyone here. I shoot a brief glance at my adjutant.

“Colonel? Shall I…assist Lieutenant Tospan?”

“Negative. The Kampfgruppe is already running thin on commanding officers.”

This is the downside of a Kampfgruppe. The structure of an ad hoc task force places most of the command and control burden on the commanding officer. The headquarters is painfully understaffed. There just aren’t enough officers, given the unit’s size.

This wouldn’t be a problem if it was only a temporary combat formation, like originally intended. Unfortunately, the Salamander Kampfgruppe seems to be, for all intents and purposes, a permanent unit, and the overwork that comes with this is cause for yet another headache. If only Lieutenant Grantz were here, then I could leave command of Tospan and Wüstemann to him and maybe send some of my paperwork his way as well. No point in wishing for what I can’t have, though.

The hundred people under Tanya’s command are better than the million she doesn’t have.

While taking care to keep the exasperation and disappointment from showing on my face, I turn to Lieutenant Tospan—who seems utterly oblivious—and address him in the gentlest tone I can muster to point out what the issue is.

“Listen, the determination to hold this position at all costs is good and well. I have no intention of belittling your resolution. But that is precisely why I can’t have you dying meaningless deaths.”

After acknowledging his effort and motivation, I say what must be said. Even if the troops are prepared to die, it doesn’t mean they should for no reason. Such luxury is unaffordable during wartime.

“Constructing strongpoints will not work here.”

“But we used it to great effect in the east…?”

“You have to bear in mind the differences in terrain, Lieutenant Tospan. The eastern front is vast. Meanwhile, on a front this narrow, it’s far too easy to concentrate fire. The enemy artillery could obliterate us in the blink of an eye if we stack up like this.”

Even the Federation Army’s overwhelming firepower has to be dispersed to a certain extent due to the immense size of the eastern front. Up against the Unified States, the same country that has so much ammunition it can lend-lease the Federation and still have enough for itself, there’s no telling how much firepower they can bring to bear on the narrow front. Just imagining it is terrifying.

That’s why I have to reproach my subordinate’s lack of foresight and point out that he’s relying too much on past experience.

“Do not underestimate our enemy. Even if it is a pain, prepare multiple trenches for defense in depth. Make sure they form one continuous line of defense. It’s an old-fashioned strategy, but this battlefield calls for elastic defense.”

A correction is in order.

“In other words, remember to secure an escape route.”

“Won’t that make our soldiers want to retreat?”

“Lieutenant Tospan, just what do you think your subordinates are?”

“I… Well…”

I let out a deep sigh in front of my subordinate, who appears to be caught in a big misunderstanding.

“I appreciate your readiness to die for your country in this trench. However, it isn’t your duty to die. Never stop using your head. None of you are allowed to die pointless deaths. Only after you’ve struggled with every last bit of strength you can summon does your death have any meaning.”

Lieutenant Tospan nods in understanding as I leave him behind and move on with my inspection. Unfortunately, the problems don’t end there. Up next is Captain Ahrens. I wind up having to explain to the tanker that he needs to prepare for situations where going around enemy fortifications won’t be possible.

“This is not the east. It’s much narrower here. Too narrow.”

“But a frontal assault will result in casualties that—”

“It’s the opposite. Rather than attempt to avoid the unavoidable, you must think about how to minimize our losses in the event of a frontal assault.”

“Y-yes, Colonel.”

“Good. It’s more or less the same as our raid on the Ildoan capital. Come up with a plan. Never stop thinking.”

Once Captain Ahrens also nods in understanding, I seek out the Kampfgruppe’s artillery. After a quick scan, I call Captain Meybert over. After confirming a couple of things with him, I’m finally able to unwind a little.

“Well done, Captain.”

While the individual soldiers have varying levels of skill, it’s clear that the officers and NCOs know what they’re doing and form a strong core for this group. The expertise and professionalism of the artillery crews are alive and well.

“It makes sense that the gunners would remember their trench warfare.”

“In all fairness, Colonel, much of what the artillery unit does derives from fighting in the trenches. It would be difficult to forget.”

“I wish the other units could hear you now. Good work, Captain Meybert.”

While it doesn’t do much to lighten my mood as a whole, it always feels good to see a professional at work.

“Thank you, but there are still a lot of issues. Even if we train and train until we’re a well-oiled machine, there is only so much we can do without supplies.”

“Spoken like a true artillery officer.”

“Math and physics are our bread and butter.”

I can’t help but chuckle at Captain Meybert’s matter-of-fact response as I lend an ear to his plea.

“So what are you running low on?”

“Everything.”

This answer is nothing if not predictable. It’s practically a running joke at this point because my response is the same as always.

“Such is the fate of the tip of the spear.”

“You must be used to this by now, Colonel.”

I shrug.

“Hardly. Our mission is too demanding and our support is too lacking. There’s a limit to how many times I can laugh it off as a matter of pride or honor, but I shan’t let my soldiers hear these qualms.”

It’s more an idle complaint than anything else, but a superior showing some weakness makes it easier for subordinates to open up about their own qualms. This communication technique seems to hit its mark, as the captain immediately reveals his most significant problem.

“Cutting to the chase…we don’t have enough shells.”

“Is it that bad? I was under the impression that we brought the minimum amount necessary.”

“Unlike on the eastern front, we don’t have a reliable way to replenish our stocks. We can’t rely on acquiring supplies from the enemy, either.”

A lack of rounds…isn’t something I can fix, which is incredibly frustrating. Nevertheless, since I am a superior officer, it’s my job to provide my subordinates with a solution of some sort when they come to me with their problems. Failing to offer anything constructive would be a sign of incompetence.

I cross my arms and mull it over before eventually responding.

“What about using captured Ildoan artillery? There should be plenty of ammunition for those.”

“Actually, I thought we could maybe use them, too.”

“Then we should… Wait, what do you mean you thought we could?”

My eyes ask, What stopped you?, and Meybert emits a tired sigh in response.

“It’s because of their equipment procurement.”

“Their procurement? Ah, I see.”

I slap my knee in realization as Captain Meybert lets out a sigh.

“They use a variety of different calibers.”

“Specifically…?”

“The Ildoans use a mix of different guns sourced from their many allies with absolutely no standardization. Just looking at their ammunition feels like walking through a military museum.”

“Thank you, Captain. That is a great analogy.”

A military museum is a nice place to see an expansive collection of armaments, but it would be a mistake to try and use the displays to fight a war. It seems the equipment they seized wouldn’t be of much use.

“Perhaps we could acquire what we need from the Unified States?”

“Well, I believe that could work, but their artillery has yet to show themselves since our last encounter.”

“They’ll come eventually.”

“I’m sure they will.”

“But, yes, they’re of no use to us until they come… Saying that makes it sound like I want them to come.”

I cross my arms and ponder about the shortage of shells.

The value of cannon shells has practically exploded because of how hard they were to obtain on the Ildoan peninsula. Were the market functioning correctly, an ocean of munitions would pour into the country…

“If only there was a market for artillery rounds. Ugh, this isn’t something I want to think about during an active war.”

Supplies are scarce. The supply routes are unstable. And there’s little hope for increased production or new supply lines. We’ll have to make do with what we have on hand.

“Let us change our thinking, Captain. How far can our current stockpile take us?”

“If I’m being honest, I doubt we can adequately suppress the enemy. It may be more prudent to disregard the potential losses and use our guns in direct-fire missions on the front line.”

“No, our gunners are precious human resources. We can’t afford to waste them.”

The artillery unit is full of engineers and technicians—in other words, they’re high-skilled workers.

“I want our gunners to focus on shelling… What if you had mages operating as forward observers to improve your accuracy?”

The solution Tanya thinks up on a whim draws an enthusiastic response from the captain. He looks at me with a beaming expression on his face.

“We could work with that!”

I’ve never seen him look and sound so excited before. It seems this problem has been bothering the artillery officer for a long while now.

“If we have eyes in the sky, I can show you what a well-trained artillery unit is really capable of!”

“Then let’s test out the idea. We’ll conduct an exercise.”

A military exercise is a high-level learning event. It would be carried out, reviewed, modified, then held again until the movements were mastered.

And so the Salamander Kampfgruppe began splitting into two teams—near the front line, mind you. In peacetime, the very idea would be utterly baffling, but Tanya’s subordinates have grown numb to irregular orders and no one raises so much as an eyebrow. The Salamander Kampfgruppe officers, convinced they are the only sensible people left, obediently follow their orders and reorganize their troops for the exercise.

As an ad hoc task force, our identity is synonymous with temporary formations and quick reorganization. The officers don’t even notice just how incredible a feat it is to execute a military exercise so close to our enemies, even considering our slightly advantageous position.

“Begin the exercise!”

With those orders, the Salamander Kampfgruppe that has split into two groups begins the war game.

It should go without saying they are using live ammunition, and both sides are firing at each other. Of course, while the bullets are going in the correct general directions, no one is aiming to hit anyone directly. Still, for the infantry in the trenches, live rounds are flying right overhead.

The soldiers have nothing to worry about so long as they keep their heads down in the trenches. Compared to the standards on the Rhine, this is a rather mild exercise.

“This is trench warfare! Stay low!”

I can’t help but sigh at the panicked shouting of the NCOs in the trenches below. From my vantage point high up in the sky, the performance of the elite Salamander Kampfgruppe is surprisingly disappointing.

“Damn it! Did you all become exhibitionists in the east?! Get down!”

“Move, move, move! Are you trying to get hit by friendly fire?!”

“No! Pull back! Pull back now! Did you forget the basics of positional warfare?!”

Each of her officers barks at the veteran NCOs to get them moving but…it’s all very unwieldy.

They’re too slow.

Much, much too slow.

I sigh and fold my arms.

“We’ve spent too long in the east. Going from a wide front to a narrow one is quite the headache.”

The only silver lining is Captain Meybert’s artillery fire. With the assistance of mage aerial observers, their shells are landing with impressive accuracy. Still, it’s a meager showing compared to our time on the Rhine. This being an exercise, no one is trying to drop any shells on top of the infantry, but with every round that goes off, the lack of flying lead is very palpable.

With our current stores, they wouldn’t last more than a few days in an artillery slugfest. Back in the glory days on the Rhine…the constant bombardments may as well have been a part of the daily weather report. Such a stockpile no longer exists in the Empire.

Between the east, the west, and Ildoa, our dwindling resources are spread so thin that there isn’t much to send to any individual front. It shows how reckless it is to go up against the world. It surely doesn’t help that the Empire’s labor force and industrial production have reached the heights of exhaustion due to protracted total war. Just how many more drops of water could be squeezed from the dusty cloth that is our nation?

Each unit participating in the exercise is first-class, but it doesn’t matter when they lack what they need to function properly. Were these regular times, a group of professionals such as this could find a workaround or acquire what they need from the market. Sadly, there is no market; it’s collapsed, and the war won’t let it bounce back.

I heave yet another sigh, unable to suppress my frustration.

“I’m growing tired of this endless war…”

Right as I grumble, I notice a change in pace in the battle playing out below. Once the two groups close in on each other, a series of flares go up, signifying that the soldiers must change from live ammunition to dummy rounds. Cries of acknowledgment go up from both sides.

This appears to be the moment the tank unit has been waiting for, because they spring into action.

“Captain Ahrens is charging in. That was quick.”

This show of initiative is impressive, and the infantry under Lieutenant Tospan respond by hunkering down in the intricate trenchworks, then mounting a counterattack.

Protected by their defensive shells, Major Weiss and several other mages are acting as referees and declare several tank kills. That was an ideal response to being charged by armor.

However, Lieutenant Tospan’s unit lacks the weight of numbers. At the end of the day, a Kampfgruppe can’t hold ground with the same resilience that a division can. Even in the event we can plug the hole of a breakthrough, we don’t have the numbers to properly counterattack in strength.

On top of that, the artillery split up to provide both sides of the exercise with support fire, but…the entire thing is quickly devolving into a mudslinging contest.

I’ve seen enough, especially considering the fact that this is all taking place near the front lines.

“End the exercise! End the exercise!”

I look down at the troops from above, a scowl on my face as I make the announcement. The results of this exercise leave me with nothing but concern for the future.

The disappointment and regret put my thoughts in a tailspin, hurtling down a labyrinth of confusion. It is her adjutant, however, who breaks me out of this depressing mindset.

“What did you think, Colonel?”

“Do you even have to ask? You were watching it with me, after all.”

“In all fairness, I think most would give them a passing grade in terms of competency.”

“Don’t forget, this is after we gave them instructions on what to do. If the troops need us to order them around to properly conduct something as elementary as trench warfare…we won’t be able to hold this position…”

I close my eyes as if struck by a painful headache. The performance of my troops would be acceptable at best if they were a regular infantry division, but it’s clear that they’re out of their element.

This is the Salamander Kampfgruppe—the General Staff’s trump card. The only battles we see are the worst of the worst—the fieriest depths of the war. These soldiers may be experts at maneuver warfare, but now they have to become experts at trench warfare as well.

“We’ve become far too accustomed to the eastern front.”

“It was always run, duck, and run again back on the Rhine. That muscle memory goes away if you don’t do it for a while.”

“You’re absolutely right, Lieutenant Serebryakov. We didn’t have the chance to experience fast-moving, nose-to-the-ground trench warfare in the east.”

Despite the persistent headache, I try to remember my subordinates’ movements. They are mobile and can maintain their mobility for long periods of time. Even if this is only an exercise, their movements alone are quite nimble. They aren’t afraid to advance when they need to and can maintain unit cohesion even while withdrawing.

But this is the same as what they did in the east. There are still many problems when it comes to conducting deep battle in the trenches, which will be necessary in Ildoa.

While not overcommitting to defending the trenches is a point worth considering, Lieutenant Tospan’s decision on how to meet the tank advance was lackluster. He needs to coordinate with the artillery more. On the other hand, while Captain Ahrens did make good use of a Panzerkeil formation…it’s clear that his soldiers aren’t used to mounting frontal assaults on fortified positions.

“Our troops are in bad shape. I had them repeat some small exercises because we have the time, but I still fear for the future. We need a way to teach them…”

I’m still murmuring to myself about what the next steps should be when the slightest of sensations commands my full attention.

There’s a faint signal, off in the distance.

Most people would overlook it, but my experience as a veteran war mage helps me notice it.

“Hm? Is that a mana signal?”

“I don’t feel anything.”

“It’s coming from between our ten and eleven o’clock. Almost directly behind our unit. The altitude is somewhere between one and two thousand. They seem to be alone.”

After focusing on the area I point out, Lieutenant Serebryakov nods, apparently picking up the signal as well now.

“Is it a messenger from Lieutenant Grantz’s company? It’s much too soon for them to be rejoining us.”

The company that General Zettour stole away won’t be returning for a long while. We shouldn’t be hearing from them anytime soon. What’s more, everyone knows Tanya places great stock in traveling in pairs. Lieutenant Grantz would never dispatch a lone messenger.

“Everyone should be on guard. Just to be sure, let’s have Major Weiss…”

“It’s all right, Colonel. That’s a friendly mage.”

“Wait, how do you know?”

“She’s a childhood friend of mine from school. I recognize her signal.”

“Ah, I see,” I say with a nod to Lieutenant Serebryakov. “It’s good that your friend is still alive. Very good. But why is she flying alone?”

“I’m pretty sure she’s attached to HQ. She’s their messenger mage, I believe.”

Upon learning that, I suddenly plunge deep into thought.

Headquarters. Using an officer as a messenger. And sending them alone to the front lines?

“It must be an urgent message for them to use a mage! But why now?”

Mages are scarce as it is. This is on top of the fact that General Zettour is using a whole company of them as a security detail. Deciding to send a mage despite all this speaks to the gravity of the message they’re carrying.

I’m certain it’s definitely nothing good. Though this is always the case, something tells me this time will be especially bad.

Acting on my instincts, I raise the alarm.

“All units! Return to your positions! Return to your positions at once!”

It takes only a single order from Tanya to end all ongoing exercises and send the soldiers running to their posts. The Kampfgruppe does a magnificent job changing their posture to combat-ready in an instant.

The tanks are covered in camouflage nets, the infantry flow into the trenches, and the artillery all but disappears from sight.

Thanks to this, by the time the approaching Imperial mage arrives, she sees no one but Tanya and her adjutant.

With a look of slight confusion, the young, dignified mage gives a firm salute before holding out a sealed envelope to me as I return the courtesy.

“I come on the orders of the General Staff to deliver this message. Please take it.”

The young mage officer is holding a document case. As per the strictest protocol, the case is sealed and will be handed over only after the recipient signs for it.

It should also be mentioned that a self-destruct device is attached to the document case to prevent it from falling into the wrong hands.

“Good work, Lieutenant. I have indeed received your delivery.”

I sign for the dispatch and remove the automatic combustion device before realizing that my adjutant is a bit restless. I glance at the mage who has just arrived, and it finally dawns on me.

“Ah, right, of course. You two were classmates. Adjutant, I will return to the ground. Who knows when you’ll get another chance, so please, take some time to catch up with your friend.”

“Oh… Is it really all right?”

“Of course. Feel free to chat over some tea, if you’d like,” I add, demonstrating the qualities of an excellent superior that I pride myself on being.

Afterward, I fly over to my private area on the base.

Before doing anything, first I drink a glass of water. Then I set my eyes on the envelope—it’s just like the ones I’ve seen in the General Staff Office.

“I’m assuming it must be from General Zettour.”

Naturally, a sigh escapes me. This is General Zettour I’m dealing with, after all. I can tell from the messenger mage alone that this one will be a doozy, so I steel my nerves before reaching for the envelope once more.

“What’s this about…?”

With one final mumble, I open the envelope and find a single, flimsy sheet of paper.

I take a deep breath.

Then I read through it. As soon as I finish, I find myself cradling my head in this corner of the field camp. Even if I remain silent, there’s no hiding the anguish of a struggling middle manager that appears on my charming, adorable face.

“Ah, fuck. Why…? Why would this…?”

Despite only having just downed a glass of water, an intense wave of thirst hits me. The urge to chug the entire pitcher makes me reach for it. In fact, I have a fleeting urge to dump it over my head.

“Secure the area around the royal capital…? He wants us to do what now…?”

Orders are orders.

No matter what the order may be, there are no exceptions.

Still cradling my head in anguish, I moan to myself.

“I always get asked to do the impossible… I thought I was used to it, but it seems General Zettour is on a whole other level…”

The truth is that just capturing the city was already an insurmountable feat in itself and wouldn’t have been possible without the Salamander Kampfgruppe leading the charge.

“To think he could possibly expect more from us… Wait.”

I take a moment to reconsider the situation.

The Ildoan capital was never meant to be occupied permanently, just temporarily at most. And yet, when we did successfully take the city, it was done with seeming ease. It makes sense that the need would arise for the Empire to flaunt their new acquisition. From a military standpoint, the army must announce its superiority to the world to preserve the facade of strength.

“Th-this isn’t what we signed up for…”

The capital city was never meant to be anything more than a pit stop. That was the plan, at least.

“We’re supposed to be leaving by now. How did things turn out this way…?”

Thankfully, none of Tanya’s subordinates are here to see this outpouring of stress and frustration.

The orders say to secure the area around the Ildoan capital. It appears as if the general has a strong desire for the army to take a forward position while holding on to the city—despite lacking the manpower, firepower, and armor to get the job done!

“Perhaps Santa is going to bring us reinforcements this year?”

As I scoff to myself about the impossibility of that, I review the current situation.

The recent exercises have convinced me that positional warfare can’t be sustained. So how exactly are we expected to secure the capital? Orders are orders, but some things simply aren’t possible…

I stand from my seat and calmly begin to consider our options.

Pacing back and forth, sometimes crossing my arms or waving them around, I eventually come to the conclusion that I’m all out of tricks. After all, the mage battalion is beyond the point of terminal exhaustion by now!

“How does he expect us to pull this off? Seeing as how the enemy is slowly pulling back, I suppose we can advance if that’s all we need to do.”

They could move forward in tandem with the enemy’s retreat. It’s certainly possible, though it would gain the Empire nothing more than a modest foothold, and to do so would come with a grave price.

“It seems unlikely that we’ll have much choice in deciding where the battle will be fought. And retreating will be complicated, to say the least. We’ll essentially be handing the initiative over to the enemy. The risk is unacceptable.”

If the weaker force allows their enemy to attack them as they please, total destruction will follow soon after. Initiative is the main factor that determines who wins any given encounter.

“Do I want to fall victim to an enemy counteroffensive?” I pose this question to myself, only to laugh.

Of course not.

“Using Open Sesame against our enemies was brilliant, but it’s not something I ever want to be on the receiving end of.”

I recall Operation Revolving Door with a degree of trepidation. No matter how big or how strong an army may be, the cost of losing the initiative will always be paid in blood and tears. The Empire encircling and destroying the Republican field army was a recent example of this. The Republic had a powerful military that was fully capable of keeping the Empire at bay on the Rhine front. They only forfeited the initiative to General Zettour and General Rudersdorf a single time, and that cost them the war.

I don’t want to repeat their mistakes.

“Initiative. Yes…initiative.”

How are we going to maintain the initiative in the first place, given our limited manpower? It’s a complex puzzle, and the pieces are the Salamander Kampfgruppe’s lives, honor, and assets. Things can’t get much worse than this in terms of corporate exploitation!

I refuse to fail here—a job change is still on the board. With renewed determination, I reassess the situation.

“Let’s think this over. We don’t have the intel to conduct a surgical strike to decapitate the enemy. Moreover, going on the offensive always comes with risk.”

The fog of war is thick, and the danger is real.

“At the same time, even if we focus solely on establishing defensive fortifications, hardly anyone would consider that successfully securing the area…”

We’re understaffed.

We don’t have the troops to spare for an assault, and a prolonged defense will only wear down what few forces we have left. This is a worrisome predicament. While our army may enjoy a temporary local advantage, concentrating forces here puts immense strain on the Empire’s other fronts. It’s only a matter of time before the panzer divisions must return to the east. In fact…there’s a strong chance that we might be sent back to the east as well, right after exhausting what little we have here in Ildoa.

“We can’t afford to take any losses and there are no prospects for reinforcements…”

Is it even possible to secure the capital in the first place…? My brain is reaching its limit. No matter how much I puzzle over the hopeless situation, no solution is making itself apparent.

Secure the capital…

Secure the capital…

Secure the…

These words are a persistent source of worry as I continue mulling over them. There must be some way to make these seemingly impossible orders a reality. There has to be…

With a series of moans and groans, I allow my mind to entertain even the most fantastical scenarios as a means of escapism before a new realization hits me.

“Hey, wait a second…”

Is there any reason to mindlessly keep a hold on the capital? General Zettour was the one who originally said he had no intention of being tied down in the capital, after all.

I repeat my orders out loud.

“Secure the area around the capital.”

That’s it. Nothing more, nothing less. In fact, the orders very specifically mention the area around the capital. Securing this area will, in effect, secure the capital itself, which would be the usual intention behind orders such as these…but this isn’t how the orders are worded, specifically. Conversely, the orders could also be interpreted as ignore the capital.

“Our orders are to establish a forward base and ensure the area surrounding the capital is pacified…and yet, there’s no mention about protecting the capital itself.”

Maybe I’m overreading this. Were these not General Zettour’s orders, I would have promptly secured the capital itself without a second thought…

If only things were that simple.

“General Zettour doesn’t mention the capital specifically in these orders. If his wording is intentional, then he has no intention of focusing on the capital at all…”

Maybe it’s meant to be some sort of diversion or a ruse to distract international observers. Anyone who sees the Empire secure the area around the capital and set up defensive positions would assume that the Imperial Army is adopting a defensive posture.

But what if this is all a deception?

“Then our true goal is something else… Wait, what is our true goal then?”

I’m fairly confident in my ability to read my superior’s true intentions, within reason. I honestly can’t imagine General Zettour pushing for the Empire to occupy the Ildoan peninsula in its entirety.

So what is he hiding?

What is his next move…?

I just realized another notable fact about this operation.

“He had us do something like this before…”

It was back on the Rhine front. More specifically, it had to do with Operation Revolving Door. I’ll never forget how we were thrown deep into enemy territory to camouflage the Imperial Army’s massive withdrawal.

It’s almost uncanny how similar this is.

“Does this mean the general is planning to abandon the Ildoan capital?”

Despite proposing the idea myself, it seems ridiculous.

“We’ve only just taken the city. Normally, securing it is the obvious next step. When it comes to the capital, the political significance is tremendous.”

Setting aside the suddenness of the orders, securing the surrounding area would usually imply securing the capital itself. This much should be a given. Would the Empire ever voluntarily abandon such a strategic point?

I’m having a difficult time wrapping my mind around the idea. If it were anyone else giving these orders, my unit would already be preparing to secure the capital, despite it being nigh impossible.

So it makes sense that the rest of the world will most definitely make the same assumption: The Imperial Army is fortifying its defenses in Ildoa.

What would that mean for the war?

A smile crosses my face as I remember something.

This is precisely the same as it was on the Rhine front.

“It’s easy to retreat now, isn’t it?”

The general is obscuring his intentions: a strategic reorganization of the war fronts.

“But we’ll need to buy time…for a few days?”

That time on the Rhine was also grueling. I sit back in my chair with a sigh and let my body go limp as I stare blankly at the top of the tent. I still don’t understand the point of occupying the capital for a few days, only to retreat right after. Is it political? Or is there a military goal? Either way, I’m sure it comes down to how the rest of the world will interpret what we do here.

Perhaps it’s an appeal to the Empire’s strength, as if saying that we’re still powerful enough to capture the capital.

If that’s the case, then the answer is simple.

It’s important to behave in a way that is easy for others to understand. We have to demonstrate our intent to defend the capital and be as brazen about it as we can. Whatever we do, it needs to be overt and forceful enough that there’s no room for misinterpretation.

It’s all an act. A performance.

But the show needs to be bombastic.

The world needs to hear the clamor of battle and thunderous explosions.

“That settles what we have to do. The question is, how?”

It needs to be a huge uproar.

Rather than a simple commotion, we need to shock and awe. We need to sow chaos. Our job is to manufacture a crisis. Ideally, without spending too much of our already dwindling resources.

“In other words, this is a PR stunt.”

The Empire needs to carve its terrifying public image into the minds of the public. That means the power of mass media will be essential. It goes without saying that outlets with global reach and influence are preferred.

“Our best hopes lie with our guests from the New World.”

If the main objective of this operation is riling up the Unified States media, then the US troops should be the primary target. There’s just one problem. I doubt my Kampfgruppe will be enough to scare them straight.

“What to do?”

I pour another cup of water from the pitcher and take a moment. The cold drink helps cool off my overheating brain, but it sadly doesn’t tease out a new brilliant idea. Where can I borrow units from? At the very least, I’d like to get some more fire support, unless there happen to be soldiers just lying around somewhere.

“We’ll have to borrow what we don’t have. I wish I could consult with Colonel Lergen or General Zettour about this…” I shake my head. “No, we don’t have any reserves to call on even if we wanted to, and the 203rd being overworked is business as usual.”

But then something occurs to me.

“We need firepower, eh? Instead of borrowing it, we could just…procure it…”

Procurement.

“Should we use captured equipment? No, that’s not…oh! I’ve got it! That’s it!”

I clap my hands together. We lack firepower. If you don’t have something, you just need to borrow it. And it doesn’t necessarily have to be borrowed from our friends. How could I forget that I can always ask our enemies? They always have what we need!

“In the free market, trust is currency. But in war, violence is the primary means of exchange.”

And the Empire has some of the best violence there is to offer. When it comes to capturing arms, we’re neck and neck with the Feds.

What a simple solution that I managed to forget.

“All we need to do is capture a Unified States artillery battery, then use the cannons paid for by their hard-earned tax money to blow the US-Ildoan forces to smithereens.”

There isn’t even a need to defeat the enemies. Hell, the trenches can be left unfinished. All they must do is harass the enemy with their own weapons.

“If it’s just one base, we should be able to do it. As for our gunners…we can either have the mages airlift them to the camp or have Captain Ahrens give them a ride.”

While carrying all of the artillery unit’s equipment would be challenging, the soldiers themselves aren’t too much of a burden. The mages can also carry any extra shells and help defend the new position.

We need to show the Unified States and Ildoa how it feels to have your own artillery turned against you. Ideally, we broadcast it to the entire world through the media.

As the plan starts to come together, I examine a map to hash out the details. It isn’t long before my adjutant reappears after finishing her talk with her old classmate, which is perfect because I was just thinking about how I could use a pick-me-up. There are times when a good cup of coffee can provide great inspiration. By the time I finish my drink, the broad strokes of the plan have already taken shape.

Our target should be a moderately sized artillery battery. It honestly doesn’t really matter which one, but spend enough time in the command post and the ideal candidates will show themselves.

“Hmmm, this looks promising…”

Just as I find a good spot, my subordinate’s voice grabs my attention.

“We’ve picked up a new batch of mana signals. A company of mages. Lieutenant Grantz has returned.”

Lieutenant Serebryakov has been on guard duty while I’ve been working away on my plan. It seems that my subordinate has returned during my intense brainstorming session.

“Ah, perfect timing.”

“Are you going to use them for the operation you’re currently planning? I’m sorry, but…they must be exhausted.”

My adjutant is concerned for her comrades. Though that may be the case, I have no choice but to mercilessly use them.

“It is regrettable to ask them to go right back to work, but I need people. As necessity demands it, I will have them play a role in this operation. We can’t spare anyone.”

We need to use whatever we have. I can’t afford to let a company’s worth of experienced mages sit this one out. It’s a superior’s job to make tough calls like this.

That said, I can’t help but sympathize with Grantz, for I am also at the mercy of an unreasonable superior. Nevertheless, it’s my duty as a good manager to ease Grantz into the news. This is an important part of preventing wear and tear on my important subordinates.

Benevolent superior that I am, I tell my adjutant what orders she should pass on.

“Let’s make sure they get what rest they can. Extra rations as well. Ah, also make sure to give Lieutenant Grantz something that’ll be easy on his stomach.”

“Why is that?”

“He was with General Zettour, after all. I have also spent a long time accompanying the general, so I have an idea of the poor man’s struggles.”

“So there are things that stress even you out, Colonel?”

“What do you mean by that, Lieutenant Serebryakov?” I fold my arms and question her further. “If there’s something you wish to communicate, I’d like it if you could write it up and submit it formally.”

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean anything by it!”

I shoot the lieutenant a glare, and she immediately corrects her posture. Visha sure has gotten tough as of late. A slight grin crosses my face, and I just shrug.

“Every superior needs to pay attention to their subordinates’ stomachs.”

“I will see to it that he eats something easily digestible.”

“While you’re at it, if there isn’t any urgent news, make sure Grantz knows he doesn’t need to come to the command post. He can give his report to whoever is on duty and dispense with the formalities. Make sure he and his soldiers eat up and get some rest.”

“Understood,” Lieutenant Serebryakov says with a salute before turning to leave the office. On her way out, I tack on a tougher order.

“Ah, Lieutenant. One more thing. Make sure to take care of Grantz’s paperwork for him.”

“Huh? Uh…you want me to do it?”

With a nod, I say, “That’s right. It’s for the unnecessary remark you made. Looks to me like you have more than enough energy to get the job done.”

“Uh, I…”

“Don’t tell me you’d abandon a comrade in need?”

“I—I will do my best.”

“Good,” I say with a nod.

Once Lieutenant Serebryakov leaves the room, I return to the task at hand—figuring out what must be done.

Defeating the enemy—much easier said than done.

Tanya’s been given the freedom to act independently, but such freedom is always accompanied by high expectations. Specifically, General Zettour demands just under the limit of what’s humanly possible. Unfortunately, my subordinates have been deeply influenced by their experience, and they lack the know-how necessary for this. I am both a participant in the operation as well as its overseer, and shouldering both roles comes with a negligible reward, only solidifying my desire to change jobs. That said, I’m not about to let this chance to pad out my résumé pass me by.

And so I set into motion my modest plan I’ve privately decided to name Operation Harassment. Standing before the gathered officers of the Salamander Kampfgruppe, I get straight to the point and inform them of their next objective.

“What do you think of a nice hike, comrades?”

This is their invite to a pleasant outing.

The officers immediately know what this means and chuckle to themselves. Nothing to be concerned about.

“The plan is simple. We will go to our campsite, start a nice fire here, cook some meat there, splatter some bloody meat everywhere, then help ourselves to whatever canned goods we can find. Everything we need is already at the campsite, so it’ll be a great time.”

The camping metaphor seems to get the point across without problems. Major Weiss even adds to the joke, mentioning he hopes there’ll be beer.

This should be an easy job. The Salamander Kampfgruppe, which can go toe to toe with an entire division, will hit a single artillery emplacement with everything it’s got. And we’ve already located the base via aerial reconnaissance.

I’m taking point for the attack. The aerial magic battalion finds the base and launches an all-out assault. Obviously, there are defensive lines surrounding the target base, but these are relatively easy to fly over and ignore.

The 203rd, making the most of the fact that they are essentially infantry who can fly, quickly closes in on the base. Evidently, the US artillery gunners didn’t expect to be the target of a direct attack because the resistance was…sporadic, at best.

“Suppress the enemy! Keep their heads down!”

By the time the mages used their magic blades and pistols to wipe out the handful of brave enemy defenders, our own gunners were already being airlifted across enemy lines.

The members of the artillery unit find it baffling to be carried by mages, so they’re understandably apprehensive at first, but…it isn’t long before they take over the Unified artillery battery that has been vacated.

The abandoned position is somewhat messy when they arrive, but heaps of artillery shells are just sitting there, ripe for the taking.

I grin as I ask, “What do you think, Captain Meybert? Look at all these artillery pieces.”

“We haven’t had a chance to calibrate them yet…”

“I don’t expect great accuracy. Hell, if you land one direct hit in every hundred shots, I’ll be more than satisfied. These shells are free, after all.” Everybody likes free things. That thought brings out a chuckle. “Our taxpayers certainly won’t mind any missed shots.”

“While that may be true…an immobile artillery position is a very attractive target.”

That’s true.

“If Captain Ahrens can’t break through the enemy defenses, then withdrawing…”

It goes without saying that it would become incredibly dangerous.

Captain Ahrens and the majority of the Kampfgruppe are currently engaged in fierce fighting as they approach this artillery position. That said, I do have a backup plan just in case he fails to reach us.

“If it comes down to it, you can hoof it to the extraction point, right?”

“That’s written in the infantry handbook. We can act like infantry if we need to, Colonel.”

I give the captain a firm nod.

“Good. Let’s begin, then. Fire everything you can get your hands on.”

“With no restrictions?”

“There’s no need to be stingy, Captain.”

We’re shooting on someone else’s dollar, after all. A big smile crosses my face, and it seems the gunners are just as happy, since they normally have to be very careful about when and where they use their precious ammunition.

With a perfect salute and a big grin, Captain Meybert and his artillery crews spring into action.

The process starts with checking for booby traps. Once the coast is clear, they fire a few test shots. Of course, they have the veteran mages of the 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion acting as their observers. Lieutenant Grantz and his company, to be specific.

They work slowly, shooting one shot at a time. This is to learn the peculiarities of the cannons. They shoot, then adjust their aim, then shoot once more.

After a short series of singular explosions, the roaring cadence of repetitive fire can be heard. It’s a good tempo—bracketing shots crescendo into a rolling bombardment of heavy artillery. That’s the sound of a healthy country at war. Each booming explosion is more Unified States tax dollars being pissed into the wind. It’s nice to fight a war on someone else’s dime for once. Just as I’m beginning to enjoy the pleasant symphony of cannon fire that’s come free of charge, Lieutenant Grantz’s shouts reach my ears.

“Enemy mages sighted!”

Numerous mana signals appear in the distance, but it’s only a battalion at most.

“They’re the same strength as us, no need to worry.”

It’s the enemy mages who can respond the quickest to the unexpected development. The lack of familiarity with any of the given signals suggests they are still wet behind the ears. There’s a good chance that they lack the proper training as well.

“I can’t tell if they are US or Ildoan soldiers, but…they will make good prey.”

I lick my lips as I think about the emotional damage this encounter will cause. Not only did their base get stolen, but the mages they sent out are about to be chewed up. As the Empire’s PR agent, Tanya should definitely knock these flies out of the sky.

“Let us give them a light searing!”

Now that they have their orders, the mages all lift off at once. As they form up in the skies above, the sight of the approaching enemy mages is a massive letdown.

“Well, this is disappointing.” My shoulders drop as I continue, saying, “They’re certainly motivated, but it’s clear they are all beginners.”

Major Weiss agrees with the assessment in a bewildered voice.

“Their formation’s full of holes. You can tell just by looking at them that there’s nothing to fear. The US soldiers we fought before were in much better shape.”

“Don’t underestimate the enemy, Major. Keep in mind that there’s always a chance they may be pretending to be greenhorns.”

“With all due respect, Colonel, I think it would be a bigger problem for us to be overly cautious of…that.”

Honestly, he’s probably right. There’s no need to be overcautious without cause. Still, it pays to be vigilant about their potential.

“While the Ildoan and US soldiers may still be newborns when it comes to battle, time, experience, and training will soon change that.”

“For now, we can thank God they still lack those three things.”

Saying this, Major Weiss begins to lead his mage company into the fray. As always, the dual-core Type 97s offer us Imperial mages maneuverability and the defense of a tank. Even the protective barrier of distance is quickly overcome when we move at speed.

I don’t intend to sit back and watch as my troops do all the work. An optical formula should provide some cover fire. Hoping to suppress the enemy, I crack off a few shots.

Stopping a mage or two in their tracks would have been more than enough, but my suppressive fire has a much greater effect than I expected.

A few of them fall right out of the sky… Now we know for sure these are a bunch of baby chicks. Major Weiss’s company is more than enough to handle them. I watch this all unfold with a smile on my face—until an unpleasant remark reaches my ear.

“It’s all thanks to God’s protection. We can knock these mages right out of the sky, Colonel.”

Since he’s doing a magnificent job trouncing the enemy, Major Weiss is free to think whatever he wants, and a part of me wants to respect this. The other part of me cherishes the separation of church and state.

God, he says…bah!

“You’re wrong about that, Major Weiss. Either we have the devil on our side, or our enemies should curse whichever god has forsaken them.”

Look no further than Being X. If there really is such a divine being, then why must a world this wretched exist to begin with? For a rational creature such as myself, the present state of this world is nothing but a source of grief.

“Fight as if you are this world’s god.”

“I’ll do my best, Colonel.”

“Good.”

For some reason, I’m starting to feel a bit bad for the enemy mages. There’s no need to eradicate all of them. If there is a way to end this without needless bloodshed, then that has to be the best option.

“Lieutenant Serebryakov. Come here for a moment.”

“Oh? What is it?”

“Send a message recommending their surrender. You should make it sound like a civilian contractor from the rear. If necessary, you can pretend to be a common typist who just happens to speak the Commonwealth tongue.”

A knowing look appears on Lieutenant Serebryakov’s face as I dictate the most convincing announcement I can come up with.

“This message for the Unified States commander comes from a direct subordinate of Colonel Lergen of the Imperial General Staff. The winner of this battle has already been determined. It is out of chivalry that we ask you to consider a quick surrender and avoid wasting any more young lives!”

“I’ll send this straightaway.”

The response we get is, well…

“From the US commander to the Imperial commander: Eat shit and die! I say again, eat shit and die! Over!”

Well, there it is. Our call seems to have had little effect besides bolstering their morale. They still have some fight in them yet.

“Damn… They’re surprisingly tough.”

The enemy has survived initial contact and continues to hold. I quickly take stock of our opponents. Despite the heavy blow we inflicted, this is the worst possible reaction. I had hoped they would be routing by now, but they’re far from defeated. If they can respond this tenaciously, then their unit must still be in decent shape. Soldiers who still have a functioning commander are much more resilient.

The sign of a true commander is the ability to instill the desire to fight in their subordinates.

“Well, well, well. Looks like they have a talented leader.”

Convincing them to surrender is no longer an option.

“We’ve already maximized our gains from this little excursion. Let’s do our best to make the enemy mages a bit more reluctant to challenge us next time.”

This small-scale encounter has been fiercely fought. Technically speaking, this is nothing more than a recon-in-force mission. One where Tanya’s Kampfgruppe just so happens to seize an enemy artillery position, bat around some enemy mages, and then plunder whatever they can before triumphantly returning to base.

In the grand scheme of things, this single incident likely won’t have an enormous impact on the outcome of the war. It’s more harassment than anything else, using the enemy’s own munitions against them. However, if there is one thing that is gained from this minor kerfuffle, it is time—something the Empire and the Imperial Army General Staff desperately need.

So when the small excursion is over and we’re finally heading back to base, I find myself groaning internally.

Today was a success…but only barely. This tightrope walk will have to come to an end sooner or later.

Given the choice, I would change the way we do things, but the Empire is currently living hand to mouth and is constantly demanding I do the same thing over and over.

It’s all so predictable.

That’s when a telegram arrives for Lieutenant Colonel Tanya von Degurechaff. Fresh orders to prepare for redeployment to the eastern front.

I tremble as a single thought crosses my mind.

“How…how much longer do I have to keep this up?!”