by Carlo Zen
“We’d like you to cut loose up here, too.”
“I’ll do all I can, though it may not be much.”
“That’s fine. Then let’s get down to brass tacks.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Does your unit have experience conducting attack missions on enemy positions?”
“A handful of our core members have some experience from the Rhine front, but that’s it. In Dacia, we mainly did air raids, and even then it wasn’t many.”
“So it’s more or less as I feared… But you at least understand how it’s done in theory, right?”
“Yes, sir. I learned with 205th Company on the Rhine front.”
“All right, then I’ll be frank. I want you to think of this as an airborne operation. Major, we’re probably going to have your unit seize the enemy defense line.”
“You mean push them back? Whatever your orders, I’d like to get started right away.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you, but I imagine you’ll need to make careful preparations. I’d like you to focus on training for a while.”
“Thank you! But are you sure that’s all right?”
“It’s fine—I’ll work you hard when the time comes.”
“Yes, sir. I promise you we’ll be ready in every possible way.”
THE PRESENT: ON PAPER
Londinium Times special correspondent Jeffrey told us about a theory he had regarding the Eleventh Goddess.
In general, he thought the notion of its existence had some truth to it. Although it wasn’t a very pleasant prospect, he considered the possibility to be reasonably high.
Today I wanted to see whether it was nothing more than a battlefield rumor or if it had any basis in reality.
All the people we asked related to the Eleventh Goddess refused to comment on its existence.
Normally, most people would deny or confirm, but no one wanted to talk about it at all.
The refusals were so firm.
“Is it something the army is ashamed of?”
When we asked that question, a retired general who had been silent up until then pounded the table almost hard enough to break it.
He leaped to his feet, and the grimace on his face made him look just like an ogre.
We shrank back in spite of ourselves; the retired general’s rage was that terrible.
“There’s a world that people like you can’t understand! You weren’t on that battlefield!” he barked, kicking his chair away as if even talking to us was offensive.
Strangely enough, the other retired officers present also all stood up at the same time.
It was as if they were all communicating their unanimous agreement by way of their silence. I confess things got pretty awkward then.
So this much is true.
But if we rely solely on what we’ve seen in person to talk about the truth, we won’t learn anything new. That’s why I’d like to discuss the data and theory Jeffrey brought us.
Jeffrey says the first time the Eleventh Goddess was spotted by the Commonwealth wasn’t in the west but in the north.
How?
Up until the big counterattack operation in the north at the end of the war, the Commonwealth had concentrated their efforts on the western lines.
So how did the Commonwealth see the Eleventh Goddess up north when she should have been in the west?
The answer, according to Jeffrey, is simple.
Before the Commonwealth officially joined the war, they sent an expeditionary unit to the Regadonia Entente Alliance in utmost secret.
Yes, the Commonwealth assisted in combat before formally declaring war.
People have always whispered rumors, but apparently it’s true. We have the documentation to prove it. The national archives were a formidable opponent, but they’ve already agreed to release the materials.
What was going on back then? We discovered this truth while in pursuit of an answer to that question. Apparently, the Commonwealth had decided to intervene while the Republic and Empire were busy clashing. The national defense committee recommended gathering intelligence in actual combat in order to better understand a future enemy.
In response, a “volunteer army” consisting mainly of a small number of mage units was dispatched to Regadonia. In order to dodge accusations of violating international law, the force consisted mostly of retired officers and soldiers who “independently” volunteered and had gathered “on their own authority.” The archives still refuse to release the details. Right now, what we know from speaking with those involved is that a regiment-sized group of mages was deployed. So maybe this had something to do with it.
At the time, the Commonwealth was a neutral country. Even if the growing mage shortage had yet to become a major consideration the way it did during the middle of the war, the fact that so many went was surprising. This “volunteer army” was big by any measure.
Naturally, we can see there were political quarrels. And apparently, the volunteers were brutally annihilated. That was the worst part. After suffering the loss of precious combat mages, they had to bury the clandestine intervention.
This is where we start to see references to the Eleventh Goddess. In his report, the commander of the volunteer army says that’s what got them. So we started to wonder: Is the Eleventh Goddess a person? Or is it some specialized term?
Jeffrey’s take on this point is simple.
“Supply hell” is exactly eleven characters when you include the space. In other words, it was a euphemistic way to complain about the leadership’s management in a situation where a more open comment wouldn’t have been tolerated. That would definitely be something for the army to be ashamed of, right? Then again, “mass mutiny” would also work. In any case, they must want to hide some sort of organizational failure.
In short, Jeffrey posits that the Eleventh Goddess was not a person but a phenomenon.
Honestly, I simply can’t agree. I was embedded on the western front, and from what I remember, supplies were coming in as well as could be expected. And discipline seemed fine from what I could see. Of course, I’m only one reporter, but I’ve been at it a long time, so I should be able to tell.
More than anything, there was an abnormal number of casualties on the western front. No, you could say that abnormal became the norm; it was like another dimension out there. It wouldn’t be surprising to find out a devil had been on the rampage. And so our debate has gotten nowhere.
Well, the Londinium Times sort of serves as a watchdog keeping an eye on the government. WTN specializes in offering news from abroad, so maybe we just have different viewpoints.
Anyhow, I’d like us to keep investigating this. Lastly, I’d also like to say how blessed I am to have such an understanding wife.
Well then, until next week.
*Andrew, WTN special correspondent
NOVEMBER 16, UNIFIED YEAR 1924, NORTHERN ARMY GROUP COMMAND, STAFF MEETING ROOM
I don’t know what era he was from, but some great man once warned us: “Victory is like a drug.”
Military triumph brings radiant glory and a most splendid intoxication to a nation. For that reason, when people are drunk on victory, they think only of getting more. Soon, no one is allowed to ask what the victory is for. Military romanticism has a violent effect on countries.
That’s why no one likes pragmatic soldiers. They’re lucky to get off with being called cowards.
“Thus, I think avoiding losses and keeping casualties to a minimum is desirable.”
Drawn on the map is the Imperial Army pulling back. Mounting a predictable pursuit is, naturally, the enemy army. It’s a proposal to retreat so as not to put too great a strain on the supply lines. If a normal officer were to suggest this plan, they would have to be prepared for an immediate string of names worse than coward.
And the meeting room did freeze for a moment. With no idea when Colonel General von Wragell might explode in his seat at the head of the table, Lieutenant General and Chief of Staff von Sc
hreise was inwardly annoyed, but at the same time, the atmosphere was so tense he wanted to bury his head in his hands.
“By moving the lines back, I believe we can lessen the inevitable burden of distance on logistics as well as simplify plans for a spring offensive.”
But Tanya, who had purposely ignored the atmosphere and stated her thoughts on the matter, quietly takes her seat. Acting like she has finished her report, her impassive Noh-mask face is unreadable while she completely ignores the staffers’ stares.
Actually, no matter how stormy it gets in the Northern Army Group meeting room, I simply can’t seriously see it as something that has anything to do with Tanya. Her battalion has carried out its mission and has already returned to its garrison for the moment. She’s only present because Major General von Rudersdorf ordered her to attend since she had time.
When it comes down to it, Tanya is a part of the Central Army, serving directly under the General Staff, so she doesn’t have a place in the Northern Army Group chain of command. And that’s precisely why she proposed, as a bit of advice, that they use this time to shorten and consolidate their lines.
Really, I didn’t mean to interfere so much at first. Rudersdorf was there from the Operations Division of the General Staff—I figured being pushy was his job.
A major general in the General Staff serving as section chief has far more influence than the rank indicates, so I thought I would politely listen to him speak. But then, ahead of the meeting, he declared he would like to hear the opinions of officers from the field, and several brigade commanders were selected to comment. Perhaps their reports didn’t satisfy him? Even though it would be easier to count up to her rank from the bottom, the ball had been passed to her.
In that case, I felt I should probably show these hemming and hawing numbskulls, who can’t offer a straight remark, how it’s done. The only ones who don’t give their opinions at meetings are the inept or idiots too worried about what everyone else thinks. That said, there are also times where someone has to stand up and bear the brunt of the silent majority’s pent-up frustration. The fact that someone has to be forced into this role, reminiscent of the ship that draws fire away from the rest of the fleet, is a problem that will no doubt plague all organizations forever.
And if the boss of the group dispatched from Central is going to keep his mouth shut, then the role of the scapegoat falls to me, another person who hails from Central, with field achievements to boot. It’s aggravating but true.
First of all, I repulsed a regiment-sized assault. That’s a solid feat no one can deny. In addition, my considerable accomplishments in Dacia as a mobile strike specialist ought to lend some weight to my comment.
My battalion did its best. They’re a real bunch of war nuts, but they gave their all. We turned back a regiment and shot down their bombers. We can be proud of the serious blow we dealt to the enemy.
“Hmm, Major von Degurechaff’s proposal is quite novel… What is the Northern Army Group’s take on the logistics involved?”
“Quite novel?” He has thicker skin than I thought.
But I suppose Central can’t come out and say that the supply lines are dangerously overextended. Our now-dismissed predecessors, dreaming of smashing the encirclement, mobilized the Great Army with gear appropriate for fighting in the north, only for them to hastily deploy to the Rhine front. It’s not just General von Rudersdorf—no one could ask whose fault the messy supply lines were, because the blame lay with their predecessors’ blunders.
On the other hand, if it was simply an organizational failure, the problem shouldn’t require Central to handle it so delicately. The issue at hand is that the Empire is panicking, and the enemy is taking advantage of that. Winter is already on its way, and partially because the Imperial Army’s Northern Army Group is lacking supplies it needs to weather Norden’s cold, the Empire’s movements are becoming severely limited. The Entente Alliance, of course, is on its home turf, so its commandos are dominating and constantly conducting guerrilla attacks on the Empire’s supply bases. Security at small depots is already in shambles and growing difficult to maintain. But the soldiers still need bread if they are going to march on the enemy logistics base.
If it were a tactical disadvantage we needed to fix, commanders would still have room to work. Or if simply fighting hard could solve things. But the supplies in a burned-down depot can’t be recovered. The conclusion I reached is simple. It isn’t clear if the Imperial Army has enough supplies to survive the winter. The supplies exist, but they need to be carefully managed.
And that time could be used to reorganize the lines. Aha, so that’s why he suggested I make careful preparations before the airborne assault on the enemy. If you want to buy time with harassing attacks,8 airborne operations are an effective option.
But Tanya is (I am) not very well-informed when it comes to the average human psyche. Of course, she would come at this from the perspective of her own unit’s airborne assault in the spring offensive.
But that’s why if I’m here, I have to sound the alarm about the danger regarding our winter supply preparations—and declare that aiming for a swift end to the war is too great a risk.
General Jekof von Schreise just barely keeps himself from losing his temper as he thoroughly reviews the plan as chief of staff for the Northern Army Group. At the same time, the part of him that remains cool and rational screams in his mind about how bad this is.
Really, this proposal is only that and nothing more. In other words, it’s simply one possible option. General von Schreise is a veteran who has worked his way up in the Imperial Army’s meritocracy. He can see that despite having its main force, the Great Army, pulled out and the local numerical inferiority of its mages, the Empire still has a clear advantage over the Entente Alliance.
Certainly, he understands that the burning of bases supplying the front lines, including small depots, was a thorn in his side. He’s relieved that after they shed some enemy mage blood, the raids should stop. But at the same time, he’s equally worried about the supply issues on the front lines. No, it’s not as if he isn’t already aware of the problems.
But to have it smugly pointed out by Major von Degurechaff, dispatched from Central, is another issue.
“Major von Degurechaff, I’d like to confirm something.” After a moment, a Logistics officer speaks. “Are you envisioning us digging in, then waiting out winter?”
“Yes,” she replies calmly. Her tone is rather matter-of-fact. “At present, we can’t maintain the supply lines. We’re under no obligation to please the enemy by wasting matériel and men in a futile offensive.”
Schreise looked at the Logistics and Operations staffers. As he expected, Logistics was resisting the urge to shout her down with obvious displeasure and expressions that seemed to say they weren’t buying her plan.
After all, even the lowliest private knew there weren’t enough supplies—you didn’t even need security clearance to realize that.
It wasn’t as if this Logistics staff was extraordinarily skilled, but they were capable of approaching supplies with common sense. They understood quite well that they didn’t have enough matériel. They also knew that even if the chaos was due to an error on Central’s part, the ones who made the error in the first place had already been dismissed. Their continued dissatisfaction had to mean that Degurechaff’s appearance was affecting their judgment. Nobody wanted to be the kind of adult who whaled on a little kid. If Rudersdorf knew that and was having Tanya speak up for that reason, he was quite the crafty fellow.
But though the Operations staff were restraining themselves, their masks were beginning to crack, showing the limits of their tolerance. This would surprise no one, but their purpose was different from that of Logistics. Every day the other army groups would pressure them, asking how much longer they were going to drag out the conflict. After all, Dacia, with about the same number of troops committed to the theater, had fallen in six weeks. The criticism of the Northern
Army Group “still fighting up there” was growing sharper with every passing day.
“Major von Degurechaff, if we did that, we’d be losing time.”
“Huh?”
There were all manner of expressions around the table, but on the whole, everyone was waiting to see what would happen.
The Operations staff especially were looking to Schreise so as to understand their boss’s intention.
Schreise nodded and pressed his point. “It’ll be a new year soon. We don’t want a long war. And we don’t want to exhaust supplies, nor can we continue tying up troops here.”
Operations continued, imparting internal details of the northern forces’ struggles. Commander Ragheno of the Northern Army Group expressed his agreement with a nod, and Schreise felt some of the tension go out of his shoulders. Apparently, the desire to put a swift end to the war wasn’t only the wish of Operations but a view shared by high command as well. That must have meant that the northern forces agreed on time being the primary concern, at least. And that’s why he glared at Rudersdorf, shameless and cheerfully listening to their debate with a smile plastered on his face; he wanted to figure out what the man was really after.
“The enemy faces the same conditions.” Operations had raised their objections in a near panic, but her reply was cool and calm. Degurechaff, completely unfazed by all the eyes on her, gave a deadpan counterargument.
“Rather than wasting our resources in enemy territory, we should wait for a chance to settle it in one decisive strike.”
“Logistics can’t take it.” Her suggestion was made with their circumstances in mind. Of course, that’s why she proposed shrinking their lines. But she hadn’t arrived at this solution by groping around in the dark; her attitude said that she fully believed it was their only option. She couldn’t so much as lend an ear to the suggestions of the Operations officers who wanted to escape this phase of the war by bringing it to a swift end. No, the expression on her delicate face said she thought their plan was stupid.