Youjo Senki - Volume 13 - Chapter 5.2

JANUARY 13, UNIFIED YEAR 1928, SALAMANDER KAMPFGRUPPE CAMP

Operation Sham Reporting was begun at Colonel Lergen’s request.

No, the word sham is misleading. If there is no threat, that is what will be reported. It is more like Operation Overspeculation.

The most important thing is to ensure our troublesome guest does not cause any problems with her visit. Either way, we need to gather fodder for this report.

And so, the reconnaissance operation has begun. The results, however, are becoming seriously distressing, even for Tanya. Taken together with the scouting reports from the eastern army, which General Laudon provided, Tanya’s bad feeling has steadily spiraled out of control.

Of course, there is nothing wrong. Absolutely nothing. Everything is going just as perfectly as can be wished for.

It’s unnerving. Uneasiness like this, so difficult to put into words, generally turns out to be unfounded. But this feeling is far too uncanny to laugh off so easily.

When the decision is clear, determination easily follows.

“We need to go deep behind enemy lines on voluntary recon. I’ll do it myself.”

Standing up, I turn toward my second-in-command.

“Major Weiss, I leave the unit temporarily in your hands. You are in charge of Kampfgruppe command as well. But when leading the mage battalion, have Captain Meybert take care of things in your absence, like always.”

“Colonel?” Major Weiss asks dubiously. I frown and make myself clear.

“I want to peek inside the belly of the bear. We can’t be sure of what’s in there until we split it open.”

“But…we’ve checked several times, and everything we’ve found has backed up the information we already have. The Federation Army is quiet. Honestly, this seems pointless and dangerous.”

I’m grateful for Weiss’s concern, but I reiterate what I’m thinking.

“The situation is serious. Beloved members of the Imperial family will be coming to the front for inspections. Nothing unfortunate can be allowed to happen to Her Highness Princess Alexandra. This is just to make doubly sure that the possibility of any such misfortune has been eliminated.”

“Yes, but…in that case, why don’t I go?”

Major Weiss’s readiness to volunteer to take her place is heartening. I’m touched. Maybe I’ll take him up on that offer when something more dangerous comes along.

Seeing, however, is believing. And sometimes, you just need to do that seeing for yourself.

“Thank you for volunteering. However, I will go. For my wingman… First Lieutenant, will you accompany me?”

“Y-you don’t want me to go?!” Visha shouts, apparently in shock.

I turn toward her in response. Visha is not the only one who looks amazed.

“You’re going to fly recon with Grantz? That’s pretty unusual. Would you mind if I ask why, Colonel?” Major Weiss says, his face even more confused than before.

Hmph. I cross my arms. Apparently, her explanation was insufficient.

“I’ve been flying with Lieutenant Serebryakov for a very long time. For better or for worse, we are very in sync. Lieutenant Grantz was selected by General Zettour. If we’re going to spot something we haven’t been able to see before, then I think Lieutenant Grantz is the man for the job this time.”

“Are you sure it should be you and Lieutenant Grantz, though, Colonel?”

“If you put it that way, Major Weiss, since you volunteered, I could leave it all up to you and Lieutenant Grantz instead…”

“By all means,” Major Weiss answers. Major Weiss is a stalwart veteran. When given appropriate work, he can always be relied on to meet expectations. Under normal circumstances, I would have no problem relegating this task to him.

However, if management isn’t familiar with the ground, everything else is pointless.

“In the end, I feel like I need to check this out for myself.”

“You feel…?”

“Funny, right? I know it isn’t reasonable. But I need to get a feel for the pulse on the ground.”

Reports, which condense main points, are convenient. But when analyzing a situation, in some cases, you still need to see the raw data for yourself.

But only in some cases.

The important people at the top often lack analytic ability. When raw data is sent that far up the chain, it often only results in tragedy. In most cases, such people will draw completely mistaken conclusions from correct information, and if the basis for these conclusions are confidential documents, then their subordinates, who are unable to inspect them, will be unable to refute the boss’s findings. In which case, important decision-making could take place according to mistaken premises.

Hence why it is incorrect to say that everyone should see raw data. However, it is absolutely just as harmful for personnel in charge of interpreting information to lose their grip on the ground pulse. Without correct information and the correct framework through which to interpret it, even those with minute analytic powers will be unable to reach a correct conclusion.

Being unfamiliar with the situation on the ground is the same as being unable to make decisions based on actual conditions.

“So you see, I’ll leave things here to you. We’ll be two to three days at most. If we’re not back within a week, then you can assume we’re MIA1 … I’m counting on you while I’m gone,” I say, before leaving the barn.

Despite the sudden development, First Lieutenant Grantz is quickly on board, following after her, stoic and capable. The mission is sudden, but the first lieutenant is well used to that by now.

It isn’t their usual pairing, and the flight is unplanned, but First Lieutenant Grantz wastes no time, as is expected of a magic officer.

Tanya and Grantz lift off into the sky in perfect deuce formation. The only thing that doesn’t go completely smoothly is dealing with the controller at Eastern Command. After that, they rise up to an altitude of eight thousand and begin flying toward the front at nearly combat speed, a pace that feels invigorating for cruising.

However, the sun is already setting. The sun is quick to set over the gloomy winter Federation sky.

Before long, the already-meager sunlight sinks completely, leaving them flying solely by night. Usually, this would be the time to suspend a flight. But as veterans, the two have ample experience navigating during this time of day and are not bothered. Grateful instead for the curtain of darkness, they soon leave the front far behind and advance into the enemy’s sphere of influence.

Naturally, detection equipment does not sleep, not even at night. As a result, they squeeze their mana signatures down as far as they can and fly as low as possible, dragging the ground to limit their detectable area.

An altitude that normal spy planes would not even be able to fly at.

Perhaps that’s exactly why, despite it being nighttime, Tanya and First Lieutenant Grantz are able to pick up something that looks slightly out place. The surface of the ground beneath them seems almost too orderly.

“It’s all just one blanket of silver… But am I imagining things? Isn’t that a road?”

As they land on the surface, suspicion turns to certainty.

The road, which should be buried underneath snow, is right beneath their feet. And although white, when we crouch down and touch it with our fingers, it becomes immediately evident that the road has been painted.

“They must have gone through a lot of trouble just to dye it white.”

It is clearly intentional camouflage. One that would likely be impossible to spot with a sweep of a spy plane from the air. Unless they’re used to reading the terrain, even mages would be unlikely to notice this.

The presence of a military road like this behind lines cannot point to anything good.

“This road looks functional.”

“Yes,” I say, nodding toward First Lieutenant Grantz and already preparing myself for the worst. A road of this scale? I can only stare in shock.

It has to be for a large-scale convoy or for more regular back-and-forth transport. Or possibly, could it be a sign that the enemy is assembling a large-scale force? Now that we have been lucky enough to find this massive artery, however, there is only one thing to do, and that is to explore it more fully.

“We’ll set up a bivouac. An outlook. First, we need to surveil the road overnight.”

“We don’t have much food, though…”

“What? You’ve got at least two meals worth of high-calorie mage rations, don’t you?”

Flinching slightly, First Lieutenant Grantz pats his chest pocket and grimaces.

“I’ve got two days’ worth on me. Three if you include extra rations. How about you, Colonel?”

“The same. Let’s pray we spot the enemy quickly.”

“Honestly? From here?”

“Yes,” I say, confirming. “Worst-case scenario, we could be stuck here tomorrow, too, so best to settle in.”

Although difficult in the snow, we create an outlook that should be hard to notice. Working surreptitiously in the darkness of night is tough, but it has to be done.

Surveillance is a matter of patience.

Hunkering down together like this would have been easier with First Lieutenant Serebryakov, seeing as we know each other so well… Just then, First Lieutenant Grantz shifts his hand slightly, as if noticing something. As visibility is poor, I inch closer, realizing that First Lieutenant Grantz is pointing to something with his finger.

Light. Faint, but definitely moving. A vehicle.

Which must mean a convoy. And quite large in scale, taking the distance into account.

“Trucks, with their lights shielded? They certainly got here quick.”

They say that good things happen when you least expect them, but this is one stroke of luck after another. We’ve barely been scouting long when we discovered the road, and now this. It’s nice when things come easy.

Tanya smiles slightly, but then she immediately pulls a frown. The convoy that has suddenly appeared before her eyes is difficult to describe as anything other than large-scale. Even in this limited nighttime visibility, what we can make out is considerable. Tanya gulps as she stares through her binoculars at the unsettling sight.

The fact that the vehicles are loaded with cargo is fine. They are trucks, after all. That makes sense. But the tires seem to be in good shape, from what little we can see of them. That is bad news. Astonishing would be an understatement.

Good tires? On a transport truck? Transport trucks usually see a lot of use.

Maybe the truck is just well maintained. Or they’ve been careful with it. Maybe they had spares. Maybe all three?

The fact that the truck is in good repair, and is loaded with cargo, is obvious at a glance. What with the existence of this road, which appears to be a supply route, Federation preparations seem to be much further along than we imagined.

“They’re skilled, too,” I mutter. “This is risky. It’s not like they’ve got flood lights out here.”

With their lights shielded, visibility is dim, and the road surface isn’t great to begin with. Moving a convoy in organized fashion like this, under these conditions, isn’t just tricky; it’s outright dangerous.

“They seem pretty well regulated, however.”

“True,” I say, mentally jotting down First Lieutenant Grantz’s words. “For the Federation, this is a fairly well-oiled operation they’ve got going…”

Hmm? I notice shadows moving across the snow.

“A hunting team? Insane. Are those…war dogs?”

We spot what appears to be a lookout infantry team. Grantz and I have been lying low in the snow from the outset, but still, if we weren’t careful, we could have been captured. The presence of enemy hounds is particularly dangerous when hiding. If chased, unless one happens to be an aerial mage, escape could prove problematic.

“There’s no way they would have picked this up with aerial recon.”

“No. They were carrying out night recon flights, but something like this?”

“Exactly,” I say, nodding painfully at First Lieutenant Grantz’s words. Spy planes can only see so much at night. And if the enemy is on the lookout for scouts, the difficulty of spotting anything would increase dramatically. On the other hand, it would have been extremely difficult for an infantry squad to make it this far into enemy territory. And even if they discover what’s going on, it would have been extremely difficult for the scouts to make it back out again with that information.

“It seems an early spring attack is almost entirely certain… There’s a high chance, maybe, that this will be a major base for the attack.”

Despite being in good health, I can feel a powerful headache coming on. Considering the imperial family’s inspection, this definitely needs to be reported. We’re damn lucky we found this, I think, relieved.

“We really were lucky, though, weren’t we?”

“Hmm? And why is that, Lieutenant Grantz?”

“Because the enemy gathered like this in an area we just happened to be scouting. We’re lucky we noticed, I mean.”

“Yes, it’s good I brought you along. We really were quite… Wait.”

Blessed with luck? I swallow hard. Something is wrong. Something has been off this whole time.

“Colonel, what is it?” First Lieutenant Grantz asks, sounding worried. But that feeling that something is wrong is growing so loud inside Tanya’s head, she can barely hear him.

“Is this just a coincidence…?”

If so, we should celebrate. Hip, hip, hooray! If we simply happened to stumble on what the enemy is up to in this way, that would make me the luckiest person in the world.

But is it really luck?

We advanced into enemy territory in order to get a handle on their situation. It would be a massive stroke of luck to uncover something like this immediately. Would it really be so easy to discover the enemy’s true intentions among this whole vast eastern front?

“Did enemies just happen to be here?”

Or what if it isn’t a coincidence?

“What if…this is only a part?” I mutter, freezing in place.

What if this is no more than a part of the whole, and the enemy is gathering all throughout their back lines? As the thought occurs to me, I move my hand to my mouth, resisting the sudden urge to vomit.

Is it possible? Do we not have until spring?

“I can’t believe it…”

Cannot believe it nor refute it.

“Could it be? Not in spring…?”

“Not in spring? Colonel, what are you talking about?”

Confused, the lieutenant stares at Tanya in worry, but the explanation eludes her.

“Look, Lieutenant. At the enemy shadows,” I hiss in disgust, pointing toward the enemy convoy. “Do you see anything amiss?”

“I’m sorry, ‘amiss’?”

“I’m asking if they look like a normal Federation unit!” I insist, doing an artful job of keeping my voice to a muffled whisper. She peers through her binoculars, focusing on the Federation troops.

Extremely well-equipped infantry. With no magic signature. Very different from the mechanized mage unit they spotted the other day. If this happens to be something special, that would be fine. But what if this is standard?

“We have to go back, Lieutenant…! Immediately, the moment the coast is clear!”

“Huh?”

“We need to carry out long-range reconnaissance with the entire mage battalion. I… I hate to say it, but…”

The situation could be very dire indeed.

Swallowing my words, I rush into slapdash flight with Grantz as soon as the Federation unit passes, moving at maximum combat speed and dragging the ground as tightly as possible.

Their caution is so thorough that they completely elude the friendly command’s air picket, then are mistaken for enemies and nearly fired on as they approach by the infantry on guard under First Lieutenant Tospan’s command.

Despite the mix-up, Tanya heads straight toward the command center barn, as if even the time to scold them is too much to spare. She nearly kicks the door down as she hurries through.

Inside, she sees the exasperated face of Major Weiss, who was reaching for the shovel sitting next to him, ready to attack, having mistaken her for an intruder at first.

“Colonel, what in the hell?!”

“Major Weiss, I’m sorry, cancel all activities, effective immediately. We need to get the entire battalion ready for long-range reconnaissance…”

…right now, I’m about to say, barking orders at my second-in-command, but before I can finish—

“We’ve got an urgent report!” the officer on the comms shouts suddenly.

Both Tanya and Weiss turn to look before they can stop themselves. The communications officer usually doesn’t sound so panicked.

Being glared at in this manner by the number one and number two in command of the Kampfgruppe would usually have caused the officer to freeze in mortification, but today is different. Their face pale, the officer waves their hands as if drowning.

“The Federation Army is on the move!”

“Calm down. What does the report say, exactly? Is it another large-scale mechanized mage unit like before? Or is there a fire somewhere on the front that they need help putting out? This is awful timing…but where is it? Go on, make your report,” Major Weiss says soothingly. But the communications officer ignores him almost completely, their eyes turned desperately toward Tanya instead, their voice choked as they speak.

“They… They’re everywhere.”

“What?”

“The… The Federation Army. In all of Theater A.”

With a heavy sigh, Tanya casts her eyes upward.

Above her is the ceiling of the barn’s decrepit roof. And above that, she knows, is sprawling darkness. The hateful Federation winter sky, practically bursting with the malicious intent of Being X.

“It’s… It’s a full-scale offensive by the Federation Army. The enemy is advancing across all fronts in theater A!”

As the communications officer continues to speak, almost wailing, Tanya mutters a quite complaint.

“General Zettour…this isn’t what we discussed. This isn’t what we discussed at all.”

A large-scale attack. The enemy’s full-scale counterattack. Now, while the Panzer Division is diverted to Ildoa. It is the worst possible timing.

Even as a red light begins to take up residence in my brain, I can’t help but understand what is happening, whether I like it or not. This is clearly a strategic offensive—an exercise of military might for politically motivated goals.

And effectively, surprise overkill.

Right as I’m about to start giving orders, I suddenly feel the urge to throw up.

“Wha…?!”

The urge is sudden and overpowering; it doesn’t make any sense.

“Is this nervous dysfunction…? The effects of the long flight and pushing myself too hard?”

But no, physically, I feel fine.

It can be surprisingly difficult to know what is going on inside your own body, but lately, compared with when I was working for those slave drivers General Romel and General Zettour, the physical impact has been much less pronounced.

Sleep, food. Comparatively, field conditions have been much more in line with regulation.

For some reason, though, my body is shaking now. As if I’m scared, but of what?

It doesn’t matter; the enemy is coming. I need to get myself under control immediately.

“Major Weiss, prepare for immediate response. All members, assume battle positions! Call for Captain Meybert and First Lieutenant Tospan! And sound the alarm!”

Oh. I add one more thing.

“And tell Captain Ahrens in the rear that he is free to act at his own discretion! But authorization only! Safety in the rear is far from certain!”

After barking a flurry of orders, I rush into the room of the shabby house that has been allocated as my sleeping quarters, cradling my head and attempting to get my breathing under control.

A few moments is enough, but I want time to think. I breathe deeply, trying to grasp the situation as much as possible, sending oxygen to my brain until it begins to grow clear.

The attack, like a raging wave. The enemy’s hidden base. Is it possible? Could it be…?

“We were mistaken—mistaken about everything…?”

Even General Zettour completely missed the mark. Zettour assumed that even in the worst-case scenario, the Federation Army would attack in spring at the earliest.

But the current situation means a winter attack is beginning.

The enemy shouldn’t have this much excess power; it betrays all expectations. As current developments show, we miscalculated royally. But what if it’s even worse than it seems?

“They caught us with our pants completely around our ankles…!” I shout involuntarily, briefly summarizing the situation. “How could we be so mistaken?”

Of course, I think. This is the difference gut feeling makes. As an analyst, General Zettour is objective, wise, and to take it a step farther, a realist, which is about as far from an optimist as it is possible to get…but at the end of the day, analysis carried out in the capital is just inference based on reports from the front lines.

But what if there was a mistake on the front lines?

“Information based on mistaken assumptions, I suppose, can only lead to mistaken answers.”

General Zettour drew mistaken conclusions from mistaken data, and due to my trust in General Zettour, I was far too slow to identify why it was that something on the ground felt so wrong.

Deception, camouflage, a dishonest surprise attack. This was all stock-in-trade for the Soviets. I should have known it would be the same for the Federation of this world. I’ve made a terrible mistake.

The Federation is cunning.

Even if General Zettour isn’t present, his attention has been on the eastern army. Carefully controlling what information reaches him was no small task, but as unbelievable as it seems, that’s what they did.

Mistaken information led to mistaken conclusions, and that poison ate away at the Empire’s readiness, thus leading to today’s surprise attack.

“In the end, even General Zettour is only human, it seems…”

If only they could all laugh about it. But laugh all they like, their problems aren’t going to wait. Now we don’t have a moment to spare. With each tick of the clock, the situation grows worse.

Most the Empire’s strategic reserves have been sent to northern Ildoa. Nothing remains of the previous Great Army. Reinforcements can’t be relied upon; there would be few coming, maybe none if they’re unlucky.

The defensive line is unfinished. Is that our only recourse?

A creeping fear, however, begins to build in Tanya’s mind.

The east is vast.

Far too vast.

There would be no multiline positions like those forged during the fearsome fighting on the Rhine front.

A flimsy line, at most, with slightly fortified stronghold positions.

Before scouting Federation movements, we repeatedly flew over our defensive line and checked out our own bases, so I know the state they are in: full of holes and woefully lacking in reserve troops. We are a far cry from creating the kind of elastic defense so bullheadedly crafted on the Rhine front.

On top of that, because we assumed a winter attack would not be coming, we already finished battening down for the winter.

If.

What if?

Attacking simultaneously and in depth, sustained advance, mechanized units, and full encirclement and annihilation.

The combination of these four things, one of the most fearsome models of war… What if that is what the Federation Army is attempting now?

“We have been preparing to defend against the sharp thrust of a rapier. If the enemy has prepared a massive guillotine instead…”

Then the Empire has been spending its time confidently implementing the wrong countermeasure. In other words, we are about to get completely sucker punched from a blind spot in our own assumptions.

Now then, the problem.

What if the situation is disrupted and the footing is made uncertain?

They are bringing out a guillotine. Once our neck is placed inside, there will be no escape. Off with their heads.

“Fuck… Fuck.”

There is only one true counter to Soviet deep battle. And it is something Tanya is already familiar with.

And that is AirLand Battle.

But AirLand Battle2, of course, assumed the US would have air superiority in Europe, which had the edge in technology and aerial force despite inferior infantry numbers.

At the moment, the Empire has neither the air power to crush the enemy’s reserve echelons, nor a mobile striking force of superior MBTs. Even our air control is doubtful in places. We have deteriorated to the point where even our ability to maintain disciplined mage combat is in question.

Most importantly, we have fatally misread the situation. Worst case, we’ll barricade ourselves into our bases and die dreaming of a counterattack to free us from our siege. It is impossible to imagine this can mean anything but the end.

When field armies are on the brink of destruction, do they, too, dream of sweet counterattack?

“Ha-ha… Ha-ha-ha…”