[chapter] III Effort and Ingenuity
MAY 1, UNIFIED YEAR 1927, ILDOA, GENERAL GASSMAN’S OFFICE
When he walked into General Gassman’s office, the general himself stood to merrily welcome (or at least he wore a mask to that effect) the “mere” colonel.
“Colonel von Lergen, welcome to Ildoa. You must be exhausted after such a long trip. Please make yourself comfortable.”
The man’s amiable demeanor brimmed with affable warmth. Someone who didn’t know better might have shed tears in response to this mask. It’s hard not to be touched by such kindness coming from a general.
That said, the expression plastered on Colonel von Lergen’s face was also a mask. His words of gratitude, implying he was terribly moved, were practically a type of formal beauty.
“I thank our beloved ally for their hospitality.”
“Well, we’ve been neighbors for so long. We should help each other out when we’re in trouble.” He offered a fine cigar made in the south. “Care for one?” Even in the Reich’s capital, these had become scarce.
The ostentatious recommendation of a smoke made it impossible to not grasp the general’s implication. Though Lergen smiled and thanked him, he had mixed feelings. “…When we’re in trouble, yes, you’re quite right.”
“Ha-ha-ha. No need to be so stiff. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t pay so much attention to our rank discrepancy. After all, our countries are friends. I’d like to be as direct as we can.”
“Very well.” Lergen took advantage of that sentiment as he began to speak. “I’ll get straight to the point. Regarding your mediation of a compromise…”
“Let’s hear it.”
Nodding and smoking, the men continued their conversation.
“Allow me to be frank. The Imperial Army seems to be having a hard time in the east. We’d like to help you in some way.”
“…The Southern Continent Expeditionary Army Corps is so grateful for your generous assistance with supplies.”
“Oh right. There’s that, isn’t there?”
“I hear from the men in the field that there tend to be delays.”
“Not everything can go perfectly. I hope you’ll understand. Even if we have a duty to our ally, Ildoa has its own issues as well.”
“I realize that.”
“So you can take that into consideration for me?”
“Yes.” Lergen nodded at the general.
It was a bit difficult to tell what he was thinking. His gaze somewhat dubiously urged the general on. Well, it surely went both ways. Lergen yearned to know how Gassman and Ildoa felt about everything, too.
“To be honest, the Southern Continent Expeditionary Army Corps is considering pulling out. If necessary for negotiations, that is.”
“Oh? That’s promising news.” Gassman nodded with interest but then proceeded to cut to the chase with the same smile on his face. “But, Colonel von Lergen, you seem to be misunderstanding something.”
“Misunderstanding? I don’t know about that.” When Lergen feigned ignorance, Gassman rained criticism on him, still smiling.
“Who should the Empire really be talking to first? You’re currently fighting major battles—what about recovering peace there? That seems to be the most pressing matter to me.”
“You’re requesting negotiations while at the same time suggesting we should first negotiate with the party that’s attacking us? You’ll have to excuse me, but I don’t quite understand how the Kingdom of Ildoa does things.”
“Well, the Federation’s violent handling of the situation has its logic. But,” he continued, looking tired, “I’m sure you know everything has a cause.”
Even if they were aware of them, the Empire couldn’t accept the current situation. That was why Lergen the messenger had to play his part according to the script.
“General, please forgive this question, but what kind of logic do you mean?”
A small sigh. Gassman shook his head and spoke. “The provisional discussion plan your country proposed. Even for a starting place, honestly, it’s too greedy. Speaking objectively as a mediator, it brings your willingness to negotiate into question. Listen,” he continued, sounding somewhat exhausted, “the Federation wants an unconditional cease-fire with zero reparations or cessations.”
That’s expecting an awful lot. Lergen snorted. As the one in charge of negotiations, conveying that they would never swallow such outrageous terms was as good as his duty.
Which was why he, a colonel, had to take such an attitude toward a general. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t get off with merely breaking out in a cold sweat, but it must have been permitted here due to the mutual tacit understanding that this was simply how it would go… Well, that’s quite, uh, something.
“And in response, the Empire proposes a cease-fire that demands reparations, makes requests involving territory, and even assumes ‘local referendums have been held in occupied areas.’”
“Seeing as the Empire is the victim here, those seem like modest requests to me.”
“I understand your position, suffering as you have such terrible losses. But your requests strike me as much more avaricious than simple compensation would warrant.”
No matter what anyone said, surely the necessity of security was ample justification. Lergen’s strict orders from the home country were to secure a safe space. The General Staff was close to pleading for a safe zone even if territorial gains were kept to a minimum.
With the state’s security hanging in the balance, Lergen had no choice but to ignore his rank and butt heads on the matter.
“With all due respect, General, please just laugh about it.”
“Oh? So you have some self-awareness?”
“Please remember that I’m forced to say what ‘we demand.’ This isn’t my personal opinion but strict orders from the home country.”
Phew. The bitter look on the general’s face as he sighed was a good indication of how rough this was going to be.
“So not open negotiation but a working-level meeting. I’d sure like to reach an understanding…but isn’t that inflexible attitude of the Empire’s the reason the Federation is attacking?”
“What an utterly two-faced thing to say. Leave the bait-and-switch offers of negotiation that end in attacks to the ancient barbarians.”
“Fine. I understand well what the Empire is saying. As its ally, we’ll—yes, we’ll take proper measures.”
“Thank you ever so much for your consideration. Please do as you see fit.”
Both Gassman with his “Leave it to me” and Lergen bowing a Thank you understood the exchange, and the wordplay was recognized as negotiation to find a common ground.
To Lergen, representing the Empire—the party under fire—it was undeniable that the pushback he currently faced was weakening his position.
On his way back to the imperial embassy after respectfully leaving General Gassman’s office, he abruptly looked to the sky and wished for the troops to be victorious.
Please win.
How much better he would have felt if he could have stayed on the eastern front and led the Lergen Kampfgruppe himself! It was unbearable to only be able to hope.
“…Hmph. A Kampfgruppe commander who remains only in name is a pitiful wretch indeed.”
All he could do was believe—in the troops in the field and the friends he had left there.
MAY 1, UNIFIED YEAR 1927, IMPERIAL CAPITAL BERUN
In the War Room, where the air was thick with the purple smoke of cigars and cigarettes, and fortresses of stubs were being constructed in the ashtrays, Lieutenant General von Rudersdorf, sitting at the head of the table, spoke to request a report.
“What’s the general status on the eastern front?”
His voice wasn’t loud by any means, but it carried. The reply came from a part of the mechanism, the precision war machine, known as a staff officer.
“We’ve halted the enemy’s general offensive! The front lines are hanging together by a thread.” The expression on the Operations officer’s face was pleased. His somewhat-less-exhausted and impatient look said more than words could about what was going on in the area he was charged with. “The organized retreat is a success! Order is being restored in all units!”
“Nice work,” says Rudersdorf with a glance at his friend sitting next to him. The man’s expression was rather stern. Lieutenant General von Zettour sounded tired.
“How’s the mobilization and supply stockpiling coming?”
“Not great. Since the forward depot has been demolished, the planned reorganization has to be put off for a little while.”
As a result of pulling the front line quite a ways back, the forward depot that had been built under the assumption there would be an advance was utterly demolished. Over the course of the winter and into spring, most of the supplies they had diligently stockpiled were burned. Perhaps the fact that they had destroyed most things before the enemies could get their hands on them was the one silver lining?
…But if that was the silver lining, it was clear how bad things were.
“The air fleet is solidly operational. We withstood the enemy’s attempt to cripple the air force and just barely managed to secure air superiority in all sectors.”
“Good.” Zettour nodded, though he had a few questions. “Assume the enemy air units could have reinforcements and keep working to maintain control of the skies. We’ve been handling requests for planes and personnel as they come up, correct?”
“Yes, General. About that. The two reconnaissance units you urgently deployed are up and running. We’re now capable of performing tactical reconnaissance all along the eastern front.”
“So we made it just in time.”
It was mostly the Operations men who sighed in relief. Their manager, Rudersdorf, especially, looked delighted, his face cracking into a smile.
“The recon net we carefully built was paralyzed so easily, we couldn’t be sure about the enemy’s intentions. You really saved us, Zettour.”
“Hearing you say that makes it worth the struggle of scraping them together.”
“So? I realize you haven’t analyzed the materials yet, but…how do you interpret the enemy’s offensive?”
“It’s extremely awful but just shy of lethal.”
Ultimately, the Empire’s forces had been hit at a bad time.
That was the undeniable truth.
“…The eastern front and the southern front are both a bit worrisome.”
“Oh right.” Zettour seemed to remember something and asked his old friend a question. “How’s the diplomacy going? What does the negotiation team have to say?”
“According to our man on the ground, they’ve still only held some preliminary discussions. He reported that both sides said what they had to say and that the issues are more serious than simply finding common ground.”
So Lergen’s saying it won’t be so easy to get their support. He never thought it was something that could be accomplished overnight, but the fact that the Emp was facing an enemy offensive while the negotiations were still under way was another example of bad timing.
“What do you make of the Federation Army increasing military activity under these circumstances?”
“…I’m sure they’re priming us and figuring it makes a good bargaining chip. They seem to want to make us realize how weak we are,” Zettour murmured bitterly. If the Imperial Army concentrated on the eastern front too much, Ildoa could start to stir on the southern border.
Looking at the big picture, it was a classic feint.
“You mean if we get too involved in the east, Ildoa will be jumping for our throats?”
“No one can rule that out one hundred percent. We have no choice but to be frightened of these nightmare scenarios. Can you say any different, General von Rudersdorf?”
“…But it makes me wonder if that’s what they’re actually after.”
Rudersdorf was still going around in the same loops of doubt and worry. They had been through this debate several times before. It might be a feint. Or it could be the main attack disguised as a feint. Or possibly both of those things.
The Federation had a talent for this sort of negotiation and pressure. Maybe this was a ploy to get secret negotiations to go to their advantage. Or it was possible that the diplomacy was a ruse and they were planning a huge offensive.
Vexingly, each hypothesis had its logic and was probable enough.
“I understand that. We’re facing a military dilemma.” Smoking his cigar, Zettour confessed his true feelings in a sober voice. “If we hit them back, we’ll get drawn in further. But if we continue retreating, we’ll lose our foothold. On top of that,” he continued with gravity, “I must admit we don’t know the enemy’s intentions or capability due to lack of intel, so we’re ill-equipped to deal with them. We thought several times that we had wiped out the Federation field army… However, the truth is a shock. The size of the enemy’s reserve forces is nothing short of dizzying.”
Staff officers, especially, understand that sinking feeling of having failed to evaluate a situation correctly. And being unable to get an accurate grasp on the enemy’s strength is a veritable nightmare.
The Federation Army doesn’t have the ability to start a major battle, not right now. That analysis of the situation turned out to be gravely mistaken. “Of course,” he took care to add, “the enemy must also be trying too hard. Without a serious balancing act and creative accounting, it would be impossible to mobilize so many troops. But one thing we can say is that if they have so many forces, they’re more flexible about taking losses than we are. It makes you aggravatingly envious, doesn’t it?”
“How can you talk about it as if it doesn’t concern you?”
“Oh, it does. On the contrary, I consider it urgently every day.”
“I’m not sure you can talk, as someone so good at scraping people together.”
Zettour grumbled a response to Rudersdorf with a shrug. “I’d like you to remember that ‘Service Corps’ isn’t just another way to say ‘alchemists.’ I can try all I like, but I won’t be able to provide the infinite resources we need from a finite stock.”
“Hmph.” Rudersdorf snorted and, with his cigar between his teeth, asked in a strained voice, “So you mean logistical limitations will hold us back?”
“Regretfully, that is correct.”
“So what, then? Are you saying we should retreat?”
Even with Rudersdorf glaring at him, Zettour had to give the same answer. “I can’t deny it. The only way to fix the eastern front at this point is to assume a long haul and reorganize the lines while putting up a delaying defense. I won’t say we have to fall back dramatically, but if we can to whatever point is doable, the logistical burden will lighten proportionally.”
“And then?”
“If we buy time, at least we’ll make it through this crisis. If we can stabilize the lines, we can probably have enough time to come up with a solution.”
There is no other way. It was a cliché way of putting it, but to Zettour, it was also his sincere understanding of their situation.
“You’ve gotten awfully rusty, haven’t you?”
“Huh?”
That’s why he froze at his friend’s remark.
Rusty?
…Do you have some other brilliant idea?
“War is solved not with hesitation but with a strong will. Blooming late is an armchair theory. We need to get our way and put the enemy in a hard spot through decisive action, even if it’s quick and dirty.”
“You want to punch some more glass? Let’s not. I’m not a fan of putting an extra burden on wartime production.”
“This again?” Rudersdorf sighed and turned to his friend with a stern look. “You’re being stingy during a war, Zettour?”
“Please amend that to say that I’m aware that the amount in my wallet is limited. All you have to do is ask—I’m the one who has to conjure things up. There are physical constraints to what we can mobilize. We don’t have a genie’s lamp here, you know!”
“If it’s bankruptcy or defeat, I think bankruptcy is the better option.” Rudersdorf snorted.
His unsentimental view was the correct one for an Operations man. If you went out into the country, probably everyone felt that bankruptcy was fine.
But Zettour cocked his head. “I wonder. We’ve already—yes, already—run through the country’s assets. Even if the war ends, what will have become of us?”
“Yes, I’m sure that’s an issue. But we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it! Even if it’s something to worry about, now is not the time. We’ll worry about it once we’re able to end the war.”
“What?”
“Are you saying we should concern ourselves with finances while fighting?” He laughed at the absurdity. “That’s not our job, Zettour. Our duty is to win. We can’t use the budget as an excuse for defeat.”
It was a valid, coolheaded understanding of their situation.
As a soldier, he couldn’t deny it. But for Zettour, it was equally difficult to agree.
“To that end, I’ve got a bit of a gamble to make.”
“A gamble?”
“Now, while the enemy is on the move, is a once-in-a-million chance.”
“…You mean a large-scale invasion of Federation territory?”
“That’s right,” said Rudersdorf, and Zettour understood immediately. This was one of Rudersdorf’s typical plans to solve things with his fists.
If it goes well, great. But what if it fails?
“Hold on—are you insane?”
“The enemy has left its nest. Well, our lines are in a sad state, true…but if we rebuild them, it’s a great opportunity to encircle and annihilate.”
With a fierce grin that seemed to proclaim that their chance had arrived, Rudersdorf looked every bit the valiant general a model Operations man should be, that mass of fighting spirit.
“If we can do a good job, we should be able to push the lines up. It’ll be a sort of pursuit battle. If it goes better than Open Sesame did…”
Don’t be ridiculous, Zettour said with his dissenting eyes.
Enveloping the Republican Army on the Rhine front with their revolving door took an awful lot of preparation. The idea that if they worked extra hard, logistics and intel would be solid sounded like something out of an old folktale.
“We’re not on the Rhine anymore!”
“It has to be done.”
“It’s too great a risk. You’re saying we should put everything we’ve got on the table right now? Just load all our eggs into one basket, why don’t you?”
“Beggars can’t be choosers.”
Well, that’s probably an accurate way to express it; I see, so the Imperial Army is slipping into poverty. Even so, Zettour had to argue back.
“The best way to avoid a gradual decline is to plunge straight to the bottom?”
“Being risk averse is healthy. But consider this, my friend. You can’t call standing by and watching things get worse ‘good risk analysis.’ What we need is action. Action that is as drastic as possible.”
“You can talk about it all you like, but an operation like that is impossible.”
“Why?”
“I’ll give you the short answer!” Zettour spat. “The supply network won’t be able to hold out!”
“Force it.”
“Tell that to an alchemist or a wizard!”
Zettour was pointing out with a grimace that it wasn’t his job. As the person scraping the bottom of the barrel to make ends meet and just barely keeping the eastern front from falling apart, he had an objection or two.
Frankly, the Empire was nearing the limits of its national strength. They had surpassed the acceptable number of losses in the east ages ago, and the personnel shortage in the Imperial Army was growing increasingly severe.
They had drafted the young, plus recruiting the elderly and women to work as reserves, and they even had the prisoners of war laboring. It still wouldn’t be enough.
“…I just don’t think we should move. That would use up the last of our dwindling energy.”
“No, Zettour, it’s the opposite. We need to act while we still have the energy. Above all, the Federation Army has started a maneuver battle!”
“But why does that mean we have to respond in kind?!”
“The enemy has left its base. You could say we’ve lured them out of their cave… You’re the one who sowed the seeds, Zettour. You’ve got to reap what you sow. And it’s harvest time!”
“Wait, what are you saying I did?” Zettour asked, puzzled, and Rudersdorf replied in exasperation.
“You’re the one who sowed the dream of self-determination among the people in the east. They’re trying to make an anti-Federation flower bloom in the occupied territories, so now’s the time to take out the main forces!”
Zettour could only mumble “Mmmph” in response, so Rudersdorf continued with growing intensity.
“The Federation can’t hold out! Just as the imperial family of Russy crumbled, so too will the Federation’s Communist Party scatter like rats!”
“Show me the evidence that supports this. Are you sure it’s not just wishful thinking?”
“History testifies.”
“I’m gonna pass on lending my ear to that jerk. As far as I know, history’s the worst kind of liar.”
“Ha-ha-ha,” laughed Rudersdorf as he shrugged at Zettour’s remark. “That’s a good point. But if fate or what have you is really so fickle, perhaps it can be grasped with an iron fist.”
“That sounds like something you’d do.”
“That goes for the both of us. Anyhow, first we need to tighten up the lines. If possible, we’ll counterattack. Make the arrangements.”
MAY 1, UNIFIED YEAR 1927, EASTERN FRONT, SALAMANDER KAMPFGRUPPE HEADQUARTERS
To someone who just arrived from the south, even spring on the eastern front must feel cold. Regardless of how well he may have wanted to present himself, the colonel appears somewhat warmly dressed. I suppose the fact that he came prepared with cold-weather gear means his research of the battlefield is laudable.
Either way, the social animal Tanya takes care not to forget social norms: a warm smile, a polite demeanor, and a sharp, soldierly salute.
The colonel, who returns her salute as he approaches, must have the same stance. He’s plastered a fishy smile on his face.
“It’s certainly good to meet you. I must admit, I’m not sure whether to call you Fräulein or Colonel…”
“I’ve heard it all, sir. My hands and feet run red with the blood of my enemies. Frau or Colonel, as you prefer.”
“Well, that cuts to the chase. Oh.” The man’s expression stiffens. “Let’s finish up introductions. I’m Colonel Virginio Calandro. I’ve been dispatched from the Royal Ildoan Army as a military observer.”
“I’m Lieutenant Colonel Tanya von Degurechaff. Nominally, I’m the deputy commander of the Lergen Kampfgruppe, directly under the General Staff, but I’d appreciate it if you remember that in reality, I’m the commander of the Salamander Kampfgruppe.”
The first step in labeling people is experience and rank. Tanya feels a personal fondness for Colonel Calandro from that initial amiable moment where both of those criteria came into play.
To be blunt, it’s good business, I think? Anyone showing up here can’t be too inept.
“I’ve heard of you and your alias White Silver from Colonel von Lergen. He told me you were a living recipient of the Silver Wings Assault Badge, a Named, and a true soldier—so I must say I’m a bit surprised by your appearance.”
“I profit by being small. Less surface area that can be hit.”
“Oh, that’ll make things rough for me. Maybe I’ll walk through the battlefield in a half crouch.”
“I hope you won’t find this question rude, but what kind of combat experience do you have?”
“I trained with the Alpine Regiment, but this is the first time I’m participating in such a large operation, Colonel. It must be quite different from one or two little covert ops.”
He’s an officer flexible enough to banter but handy enough to be thrown onto the forward-most line in a pinch. Phew, Tanya thinks as she feels the burden on her shoulders lightening.
It’s much easier to handle a capable officer than an inept one. Of course, given that her each and every move is being watched now, there’s no time to relax, but still.
“Oh, don’t be modest. You’re a specialist in delicate situations. If I may be so presumptuous, I think they made a fine choice in sending you.”
“And thanks to that, I’ve been flung all the way onto the eastern front.”
“Ah yes.” Tanya finds herself sympathizing with a bitter grin. As someone who was sent to the front lines because she does such a good job, she can relate to that gripe. “Here you are on the forward-most line. On behalf of the Empire, I humbly welcome you.”
“Thanks. I’ll mainly just be watching and listening. If you could show me things as they are, that would be perfect.”
“Understood. As a host, I hardly meet the minimum requirements, but I’ll do what I can, even if it’s not much.”
“I appreciate it.”
MAY 2, UNIFIED YEAR 1927, EASTERN FRONT, IMPERIAL ARMY CAMP
“Colonel von Degurechaff, we’ve made contact with the enemy.”
At First Lieutenant Serebryakov’s announcement, Tanya jerks out of her pleasant doze. Just like Pavlov’s dog.
The sound of the word enemy is enough to banish her light sleep.
She swallows her sigh and acknowledges with a shout, “I’ll be there right away!”
Parting with her bed and beloved sleep, Tanya resolutely sprints for headquarters and is already holding back sighs by the time she’s looking over the brief.
“Enemy contact, huh? So it’s sooner than the General Staff anticipated.”
It’s rough to suppress her rage and condemnation.
The enemy has advanced too quickly. Not faster than expected but faster than we could have ever imagined. I don’t want to think that the General Staff’s understanding of the situation disagrees so much with ours on the ground that they’re optimistically assuming we’ll find the kind of environment they hope for.
Does this mean the enemy is more capable than the General Staff estimated? More powerful?
Either way, it’s not a favorable development for Tanya. Regardless of how things are done in sports, this is war. Overwhelming a weaker enemy is far more practical and profitable than competing against a stronger one.
“…I guess all we can do is cry over our helplessness. We can’t even choose the opponents we want.”
Tanya adjusts the priority of things in her mind. Reflecting and assuming are both luxuries now. If she doesn’t first eliminate the threat facing her, the future of free thought is in danger.
“Major Weiss, let’s have the details.”
“A few moments ago, Captain Ahrens encountered a group of enemy tanks. We took no losses. Five enemy tanks were destroyed; however, since infantry showed up as reinforcements, he’s decided to withdraw.”
“So the report came in late? That’s unusual for Captain Ahrens. Was the radio out of order?”
“There seems to have been a light rain.”
Rain isn’t kind to radio waves. That said, I don’t really want to believe that a mere drizzle could cause that much of an issue… Are we just having critically bad luck?
What’s worse is that we can’t rule out the possibility of mechanical failure. The precision of the “precision” machinery we’re using to the fullest on the eastern front can’t be counted on. It’s hardly surprising, given that by the time we’re employing our equipment to the fullest on the eastern front, we’re already using them in a way that was unexpected, since they were made for operating in our homeland.
It really is irritating. A tsk slips out.
“Colonel Calandro’s arrived, ma’am!”
What switches her mind’s gears is the shout from the person outside on guard duty.
When it rains, it pours… Tanya leaps to her feet as etiquette demands and snaps off a textbook salute.
“Sir!”
“Thanks, Colonel.”
It’s been ages since an officer superior to her has entered the command post during combat. It doesn’t make things easy. But whining that this is exactly why Tanya told Colonel von Lergen she was against this won’t help now.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“The General Staff has given us orders for how to handle this.”
He seems to understand that she means not to worry about it. With a bob of his head, he thanks her and apologizes again.
“Can you tell me what’s going on?”
“I just got here, too. Let’s have the duty officer, Major Weiss, explain things.”
She tells Weiss to fill them in, and he nods his understanding before beginning to speak. “The advance armored unit made contact. They ran into enemy tanks backed by infantry, so our tanks have begun their retreat. We’re about to have First Lieutenant Tospan’s infantry unit go out to meet them.”
“Where did they make contact?”
“It’s this area on the grid. Specifically, I think around here.”
Weiss pointed to a location on the map—“Please take a look”—in response to Calandro’s question.
Tanya has climbed up on a chair to look at the map with them and the topography makes her want to click her tongue in frustration.
When she glances at Calandro, she sees that he seems to have a good understanding of the situation.
“…It’s awfully near that residential area, isn’t it, Colonel?”
“Yes, that’s a pain.”
Unfortunately, the map’s accuracy seems only up to par for civilian purposes and had probably been appropriated for military use, but it still got the job done of providing a basic picture.
That spot is indeed a residential area. No, technically, it’s probably more of a town or village… But in any case, the amount of cover there would make it very different from a field battle.
“It may be presumptuous of me, but may I ask a question? How does the Imperial Army generally handle situations like this?”
What a pointed inquiry. Tanya grins wanly at Calandro. For better or worse, armies love manuals. Operating in residential areas is a stiff military and legal challenge, so as a military observer, trying to learn from the seasoned Imperial Army is the correct attitude for the Ildoan colonel to take.
If there’s any issue with it, I suppose it’s that she has to tell him that no such handy thing exists in this world.
“As you know, residential areas are headache inducing. Embarrassingly…though the home country must be actively deciding standard operating procedures…they haven’t been yet established.”
“Is that true?”
“Yes,” affirms Tanya. “I keep thinking how much easier things would be if they were.” Tanya is lamenting this fact from the bottom of her heart. If there was a by-the-book way of doing things, she could simply follow that and avoid a lot of responsibility.
“All the officers must feel the same. If you had a standard policy, then you could avoid hairy issues by simply applying the rules set out by the higher-ups.”
Although when he says that to her so bluntly like that, she has to wince.
“The way you explain it is a bit extreme, but in general, you’re right. The practical issue now is that when a residential area is in our way, we’re forced to proceed at a snail’s pace.”
Due to the balancing act with the land-war convention, the Empire hasn’t seriously considered research on urban war; that’s only to be expected. Since the Federation isn’t party to any of the international treaties, they should have thought about it, given the possibility of an attack, but…since the Imperial Army is specialized in interior lines strategy, you could say a weakness has been exposed.
“So even veterans with plenty of experience aren’t sure what to do…?”
“I beg your pardon, Colonel, but it’s the opposite.”
“The opposite, you say?”
Contrary to Calandro’s puzzled look, her subordinates are nodding. They understand quite well what Tanya means.
There’s some difficulty in claiming it as a civilized opinion, but there are hardly any places less suited to war than a residential area. There are just too many obstacles to have any real fondness for it.
“Anyone who has had a bitter experience in a residential area feels the same.”
She glances around the room and there happen to even be people with experience being injured in a similar battle. Even the veteran lineup of the 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion’s officers is a good sample of the loathing.
“This conversation is liable to make my old wound act up. I do wish you’d spare me,” her subordinate, who had been shot in the fight against the Republic, said with a wry grin.
Even a veteran like him is no exception to the rule that it’s virtually impossible to keep a lookout in all directions in a residential area.
Flying also requires keeping a 360-degree watch, but the only obstacles in the sky are clouds. Honestly, it’s far harder to search for enemies in places where people live. And in an urban environment, well, you can call it a concrete jungle. It would be so much easier if we could just go around it.
Faced with Tanya’s and the others’ sighs, Calandro seems to get the idea and winces. “Ha-ha-ha. Experience points, hmm?”
“Something like that.”
“Well, let me ask you more on that later. For right now, I’ll stay out of your way while you take command.”
“Thank you.” She extends her gratitude for his consideration and then speaks in a purposely normal tone. “So, Major Weiss?”
“Yes, I know. Are we heading out?”
His reply is immediate. This is what an outstanding vice commander should be like. “That’s right.” Tanya smiles in satisfaction.
She’s glad she can save time by omitting the explanation. Still, although it’s contradictory to say so, explaining things is her duty. It makes sense, since a superior must see that everyone is aware of their intentions to the extent possible.
Work among professionals who aren’t overly reliant on one another entails a sturdy foundation of concise, accurate communication and confirmations.
“Considering the less-than-stellar wireless performance we’re getting, let’s move HQ up. We can meet with Captain Ahrens and get a handle on the situation.”
“Understood!”
He responds immediately to the order. It’s so reassuring to feel like you’re able to trust someone enough to let them handle things. I suppose you can say having to do checks is extra work.
Ehhh, maybe it’s rude to call it extra work, Tanya reflects in her head as she speaks to the military observer beside her. “It’s as you’ve heard, Colonel. What would you like to do?”
“Hold on—are you trying to tell me to lie low because it’s dangerous?”
“I wouldn’t say that, but neither can I make light of the risks. Of course, I don’t want headquarters to be attacked, either…but this close to the front lines, literal encounter battles are to be expected.”
Stray fire or harassment from a hidden sniper…
Near the front lines, even if it’s a noncombat area or not technically considered part of the front, safety is never assured. Claiming an area is 100 percent safe is a scam. And Tanya is no scammer. She’s a civilized individual of integrity armed with modern reason and an awareness of norms.
“We’ve minimized said risks. But…” Tanya drives her point home. In addition to compliance, their public image has to be considered. Naturally, the most definitely important factor is the law.
All that said, neither can she discount how carefully everything has been checked and rechecked to make sure there are no ethical issues.
Whether for self-protection inside the organization or signaling in society, preventing problems related to the initial handling of these things is paramount.
“We cannot guarantee that the Federation will immediately recognize you as a military observer from the Royal Ildoan Army and hold back in their attacks.”
“…I understand your concern, but I’m not sure I approve of being treated like an overprotected child. I’d appreciate it if you’d let me watch.”
“Understood,” Tanya says with a reluctant nod. “Respectfully, we have nothing to hide from our ally. If you insist, then please observe to your heart’s content.”
“I realize I’m asking a lot, Colonel. Sorry.”
She’d like to say, Then maybe watch yourself. Given the strict orders she has from Colonel von Lergen and the General Staff, she’s so worried something might happen to him that the comment threatens to pop out of her throat.
But contrary to what’s inside, Tanya’s mouth forms a polite reply.
“No, it’s not so much at all.”
Perhaps it’s because she’s such a sociable animal of politics? Lieutenant Colonel Tanya von Degurechaff is fully capable of employing respectful flattery with an ingratiating smile.
“This is an honor of a role entrusted to me by the General Staff. I’ve been told to grant your every wish, so don’t hesitate. I’m at your service.”
“Then about that…”
“Mentioning the risks is just a part of my duty, so I hope you understand.”
“I respect your obligations, Colonel. With that in mind, I’d like to do this of my own accord.”
Calandro declares his volition before all the staff at HQ.
If he’s coming along despite Tanya’s serious reluctance and warnings, then all that’s left to do is arrange an escort. Now, no matter what happens, her duties have been perfectly fulfilled.
Even if he gets shot and killed, she’ll be able to make some excuse to the General Staff. Hopefully that doesn’t happen, but it’s important to anticipate the possibility.
If I must… Tanya maintains an outwardly courteous attitude and says to her adjutant in a slightly put-out way, “Be Colonel Calandro’s guide.”
“Yes, ma’am!”
Regardless of how Serebryakov is at entertaining, she makes a great shield as an escort. Tanya is happy to be able to trust her to protect him in the case that anything should go wrong.
And by assigning her to guide him, she can get him out of HQ for a moment—perfect.
“Oh, Colonel, one thing.”
“Yes, what is it?”
“If you don’t mind, after we move, I’d like to watch your meeting about how to handle the situation.”
For a moment, Tanya thinks in silence. Honestly, she wants to refuse. Whose idea of a good time includes holding a sales meeting in front of an executive from a client company?
But Tanya’s position prevents her from saying nein outright to the military observer. Whoever said Wretched is the lot of the government official is worth taking seriously.
“…If that’s what you wish, then of course. But—” Though she chooses her words carefully, she has to add, “I’m terribly sorry, but may I ask for your express consideration during the action?”
“What specifically? Of course I want to cooperate as much as I can.”
“Thank you.” Tanya bows and, with full realization that she’s being offensive, makes her request in detail. “During the operation, I want to make commanding my highest priority…so can we temporarily disregard your superior position—the fact that there’s a full colonel present?”
Basically, this is an impudent request for permission to make Calandro an ornament. But she simply has to get him to agree to it. Educating a superior while simultaneously fighting a war is more than Tanya can handle.
War is a problem you must always tackle with every last bit of your strength. Cutting corners could lead to problems that not only lower society’s estimation of you but directly affect your assets and very life.
“Of course. Consider me a bystander.”
“Thank you.” Suppressing her relief, Tanya bows deeply. It’s really so helpful that he understands. Of course, I still probably won’t be able to ignore him completely. This’ll be hard. Even if she thinks that, though, she can’t say it aloud.
It’ll be a struggle to perform as usual under the gaze of an important visitor. But it is what it is. When it comes to doing it, it must simply be done.
Thus, burdened with these slight worries, Tanya and the principal commanders of the Kampfgruppe begin moving to the front line. They may be experiencing a bit of poor weather, but there’s probably no one else on the road besides the Kampfgruppe’s vanguard. They’re blessed with relatively good ground conditions.
More than anything, she appreciates that the horses, vehicles, and people can travel without much issue. Tanya and the others meet up with Captain Ahrens’s armored troops without a hitch.
It’s going about as well as anyone would expect, I suppose… Troops rush about receiving supplies or delivering them, getting plastered in mud as they do so.
On the forward-most line, they have no choice but to prioritize function over form. Provisional HQ is constructed promptly, but it does only consist of a single tent.
Still, Tanya and the others are used to that by now. To Calandro, who looks around, fascinated, there must be something novel about it, but it’ll feel normal soon enough.
The place grandly called a “meeting room” is a basic, rough collection of folding chairs; a wireless kit; and maps. That said, even with the minimal equipment, their work can still be done.
“Gentlemen, it’s as you’ve heard. Let’s get a handle on the situation.” In this space appropriate for an operation briefing, if only superficially, Tanya kicks off the discussion. “Captain Ahrens, what’s your status?”
“After encountering the enemy armored unit, you mean? It was a mess.”
“Like usual, then?”
“Yes, ma’am.” The expert nodded with a wince. It’s doubtful you’d be able to give a quick explanation of the situation if you lack the skill to grasp it.
“Before long, enemy infantry started showing up. Since the enemy was entering a residential area, we decided that to avoid a battle in the streets, we should retreat temporarily.”
“Mm.” Tanya comprehends the situation and finds it irritating.
If there are enemy troops in a residential area, then this will involve the chore of pseudo-urban warfare where we conduct a sweep block by block.
The Kampfgruppe has the ability to do that, if nothing else. Sending in the golden duo of the mage battalion and infantry would make it possible to clear those areas. The issue is that that would take too long.
Since we aren’t in a position to creep up around the enemy base and attack, we have to pay close attention to time.
It happens while she’s thinking about what to do.
“…The Federation troops entered a residential area?” Calandro asks a question.
“Um, Colonel Calandro?” He may be a bystander, but apparently he’s inquisitive, too, Tanya thinks as she suppresses the urge to pull a sour face and replies politely. “Can I help you with something?”
“If they enter a residential area, that makes it a fight in the streets. Does that mean the Federation soldiers are fine with that?”
Replying to his question would slow down the functioning of HQ. Really, she’d like to scream, You’re in the way and kick him out, but violence won’t be tolerated in this instance.
This is exactly why I told Colonel von Lergen that accepting a full bird colonel as an observer would be difficult for a Kampfgruppe with a lieutenant colonel as its superior officer. But frustratingly, headache inducingly, even sighing would be a breach of etiquette in this situation.
I guess I have no choice. Tanya resigns herself and throws it at a subordinate. “Captain Ahrens, answer the colonel’s question.”
She shoots him a look that says, You know what I mean, and he’s well trained; he seems to have grasped her intentions.
Straightening up, a model officer, he begins explaining the situation in an expository tone.
“Yes, ma’am. A large-scale unit of enemy infantry has holed up in a residential area. As you pointed out, sir, they may be intending to resist from inside the buildings.”
“In a residential area? How did you confirm that?”
“After the armored troops clashed, it was mainly the infantry who checked out the situation. The mages who flew in as support have also been observing.”
“…I see. So the Imperial Army is using aerial mages for search missions.”
Apologies to Calandro, who’s murmuring something or other, but Tanya can’t have this level of Q&A interrupting the flow of her meeting; we can’t fight a war like this.
“Colonel, may I continue?”
“Yes, sorry. Please do.”
“Thank you,” she responds politely, but internally she’s hurling protests by the dozens. An officer ranking above me! And from a country that—even superficially—is supposed to be our ally! How am I supposed to work like this?
I’m going to have to bill the General Staff for tons of entertainment costs.
“Troops, it’s as Captain Ahrens said. If the Federation soldiers are holed up in a residential area, orthodox methods will take too long.”
“Then please leave it up to the artillery.”
“Exactly. Now’s your time to shine.”
“There’s the issue of how much ammunition to conserve… Shall we go all out?”
Tanya nods at Captain Meybert that she’s fine with that. She’s really just delighted that her artillery maniac has learned to worry about how many shells are left.
“If it’s an encounter battle, wouldn’t this be a good time to use our mobile artillery?”
The reason we’ve been supplied with something so expensive as self-propelled guns is that the Imperial Army’s General Staff values mobility in the extreme. Our ammo concerns are unavoidable and frightening, but the obvious benefit is that problem areas can be leveled with artillery shells.
“We can use mages as forward observers. Guide the guns and eliminate the points of enemy resistance. Get support from Lieutenants Tospan and Grantz and their mage-infantry composite unit for suppression as necessary…”
“Hmm? Please wait a moment.”
“Yes, Colonel Calandro? What is it?”
The flow of things is once again interrupted. The mental cost of politely swallowing the comment Again? is no joke.
I definitely need to draw up that plus the opportunity cost and invoice the General Staff for the full amount. All of it! I’m not leaving out a single bitasen. If I don’t invoice for everything within my right to invoice for, including supplemental compensation for my subordinates who have to do everything with me, I’ll be a disgrace.
“You’re calling in artillery fire? On a residential area?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Seriously?”
“Huh? Errr, what about, sir?”
Her blank expression is genuine. If the enemy is in an obnoxious spot and we have artillery, why should my seriousness about attacking with artillery come into question?
No. She shelves that question. Calandro is not from the Imperial Army. Perspectives often vary between insiders and outsiders. The reason must be a difference in organizational culture.