by Carlo Zen
Anyhow, both matériel and men are being used as if they are worthless, and when Tanya steps back and thinks about it, it’s unusual; the more she thinks about it, the more she wants to frown. It’s such a huge waste that she can’t imagine a bigger one. Even I think human assets should be better taken care of.
Once the troops receive their red slips and get called up, it costs money to train, outfit, and feed them, but here’s this war where we’re going through them like they’re sold at bulk discount. Our meetings may not be with stockholders, but it’s a wonder we don’t get criticized.
We’re firing with such wild abandon I want to grill them for about an hour to see how much kickback they’re getting from Grupper for these shells.
Tanya doesn’t doubt the importance of a curtain of fire. Of course, she understands that without the views of her esteemed superiors.
But she has told them they should at least cut costs. The rear is such a mess that she has to sincerely wonder why there need to be seven or eight different standards for railway guns alone.
Never mind the 20 cm guns and whatnot. Why does there have to be so much variety among 80 cm railway guns used by thousands of men? As someone with rotten experiences with an engineer, I suspect the imperial engineers just made them because they wanted to. I wouldn’t put it past them.
Still, shouldn’t they be at least a tiny bit interested in mass production?
Anyhow, faced with this scene, I can see why the military-industrial complex prefers war.
So that’s why Japan was booming during World War I. Ditto regarding “special procurement” during the Korean War.
There’s no way sales don’t climb when you have consumers plowing through supplies at this tremendous rate. It’s a perfect example of supply and demand. The market is so attractive it almost makes me want to start up a private military company.
Ah, the heartlessness. If they’re going to waste us like this, they should at least raise our wages. They have the money to shoot these shells at the Republic like so much water, and those cost who knows how much a pop. They should give some thought to employee welfare. I’d like to receive more than just candy and snacks.
Tanya is lost in these utterly normal thoughts for an employee to have when Lieutenant Serebryakov interrupts her with an administrative notice.
“Major, we’ve received word that the fresh mages have arrived at group command. They say they’d like you to stop by to see about them…”
“Fresh mages? …Even if I wanted to replenish the battalion, we haven’t lost anyone.” Zero casualties. Tanya intends to be performing the most cost-effective management on the insane Rhine front, so she doesn’t understand the relationship between her battalion and new recruits. “Are you sure they weren’t stationed here by accident? Or did the message go to the wrong person?”
“Though it’s presumptuous, I did, er, check myself…and there’s no mistake, ma’am.”
I’m confused. I didn’t even request any replacements. But Lieutenant Serebryakov says she didn’t mishear, that she confirmed there is no misunderstanding. So Tanya has to think. Her adjutant understands that a battalion with no casualties doesn’t require replacements. Command understands this logic even better than Serebryakov, so it couldn’t be them.
On top of that, the battalion is already an augmented battalion. For a unit under a major’s command, that’s about as big as they get. And it’s difficult to imagine being promoted and receiving new personnel so suddenly under these circumstances.
The only logical inference to make is that we’re in for some trouble.
Why? I’m such good person, cost conscious, and a stickler for compliance. If Fate exists, I can guarantee she’s a jerk. Well, she’s probably in league with Being X.
“Uh, this isn’t for sure…it’s only a rumor…but I heard Command might want us to act as an instructor unit.”
“What? And where did you hear that?”
“Well, a classmate from the Cadet Corps is attached to Command as an observer on the Rhine. She’s in a different sector, but…in a personal letter, she said, ‘I heard you’re going to be a teacher. Nice work.’”
Hearing this plausible rumor through a random personal connection, Tanya finds herself asking for clarification.
“Lieutenant, your friend’s ears are a little too sharp. Not that it’s anything to be upset about.”
The duty to instruct recruits who aren’t used to the battlefield yet… It’s a bit late, but someone must have noticed the rate at which new troops fall. That’s all well and good, but how did they conclude that we should be the instructors?
“But an instructor unit? If that’s true… No, with the war going as it is, I doubt they’ll have us fall back to the rear. So they’re telling us to train rookies at the front?”
One of my men snorts as if he can’t believe it. Exactly. Fresh recruits on a battlefield are deadweight that can’t even be used to deflect incoming rounds. Honestly, they should be hauled off somewhere else.
I don’t want anyone in my way, and yet they assign me recruits to train? Frankly, I want to scream at them to come over to the front and see for themselves whether that is even possible.
But just as I’m thinking that, First Lieutenant Weiss yells it himself. “Unbelievable. I guess they think we can babysit while fighting a war!”
They all start shouting with no way to vent their indignation. Well, they’re honest guys. And as one who’s spent time shivering in a trench, I can sympathize.
“So we’re supposed to keep the shells off them? Have you ever heard something so stupid?”
“Well, umm, everyone was a new recruit once…”
Still, Lieutenant Serebryakov’s cautiously stated comment is correct. Watching after panicking newbies is a bona fide pain in the ass, but we were all new once. Going a step further, Tanya’s already fought on the Rhine while babysitting once before.
Maybe it’s because she has that experience that the brass is pushing it on her again.
“Yeah, it’s true. I taught you on the Rhine, Lieutenant.”
“Yes, Major, I’ve come this far thanks to you.”
Considering that, contrary to my expectations, I managed to find a useful subordinate, maybe we just have to do our best and see if we can dig up someone good.
“This might be rude, but the major’s training seemed pretty harsh. I can’t believe you…”
“What’s that, Lieutenant Weiss? If you have something to say, go ahead and say it.”
“Never mind—excuse me!”
From the looks on my bickering subordinates’ faces, it seems like they’ll take care of the recruits. And it’s an order, after all. Tanya unwillingly braces herself. Resigned, she has to force herself to accept the task.
The reason she still can’t think positive is that she knows reality.
They’re throwing new recruits into a world where you’ll go crazy if you can’t endure the misery of suppressive shellfire. She’ll want to pull her hair out the day an untrained newbie makes a scene in the trenches or the lodgings at base. At least if it’s at the base, she can shove them on the medical staff in the rear, but if they panic on the front lines, we won’t have time for that. I won’t know what to do.
More importantly, panic is contagious. If one handsome newbie’s face crumples into a teary mess, and then the brave ones who’ve been enduring everything start making a fuss, I won’t be able to control it. If someone pukes everywhere, it’ll start an unacceptable chain of nausea for everyone. In a worst-case scenario, I’ll have no choice but to produce silence with a shovel.18
Shovels are fantastic for rookie education—we can bury their waste products, shut them up, and, if necessary, bury them as well. They’re useful no matter where you are—trench, base, or graveyard.
“Well, that’s fine. Gentlemen, if that’s our duty, we have no choice but to do it.” That said, orders are orders, and it’s not as if this one has been issued yet. It’s important to conf
irm these things. “Anyhow, first let’s inquire with Command. If it’s the truth, it’ll be tough, but we’ll just have to do it. We’ll give it our all!”
If I ask for confirmation on the rumor, I’ll learn whether I want to do this or not. If it’s true that we’ll be rearing greenhorns, then we’ll have to do it in a way that doesn’t break our backs. Tanya braces herself. We can’t be expected to hold their hands every step of the way.
Of course, I know that wasting precious human resources is a folly to be avoided. Which is also why I think I’d like to do this only as long as it doesn’t put too much of a burden on me.
“This is Major von Degurechaff. About the new mages…”
So Tanya hazards a simple guess and receives confirmation right away.
In a nutshell, the mission we’ve been given is to break the newbies in. From the phone conversation, Tanya makes a fairly certain guess that her unit will be training them.
Then the first thing to do is have them observe the firing line as soon as possible. I’ll just be glad that the battalion shouldn’t get thrown into anywhere actually dangerous.
The front lines will teach them reality far better than a million words of explanation. Apparently, my troops agree.
All right, I need to plan a training schedule is what I should have been thinking.
Yes, what I should have been thinking.
“Gentlemen, welcome to the Rhine front!”
The fresh recruits were sent over more efficiently than I expected. Tanya was thoroughly at a loss as she gave them a word of welcome. When Command does something promptly, things are not normal. It’s an anomaly, and you need to prepare yourself for the worst.
In the army, not having to worry about Command’s mess of administrative procedures is the kind of aberration that should put you on guard. Supplies get held up, reinforcements are delayed, but they’ll send trouble over right away. In other words, Command being efficient is bad news.
Which is why even Tanya wants to rip her hair out over the group of newbies they’ve pushed on her. Even though she knows it isn’t becoming, she gets cranky and frowns.
She braced herself, but…why are these replacement personnel so utterly green? Lieutenant Weiss and the others all groan as they look over the careers of the recruits they’ve been assigned.
They aren’t here for retraining or changing arms—they’re literally a slab of fresh newbie meat. We’re being given raw recruits, whose only use is fodder for the meat grinder, and being told, Don’t mince them! Evolve them into fighting chunks of steak!
“I’m your instructor, Magic Major von Degurechaff.”
If this was what was going to happen I should have never gotten assigned to the instructor unit at Central. Tech Research wasn’t a proper workplace, either, and the Elinium Type 95 is one more reason my head hurts. I guess I haven’t been able to take proper advantage of my promotion opportunities. I just end up with more and more unfortunate connections. Tanya can’t help but lament her circumstances.
“As you know, the Rhine is hell. It’s a graveyard, so to speak.”
She smiles weakly, thinking how it won’t do for all the fresh meat to drop like flies, and describes the battlefield to them in frank terms as a warning. It would be better if they had received a little more training that’s actually useful for their situation; soldiers who don’t understand are deadweight. Then again, on second thought, that’s exactly why someone thought of making them a proper fighting force with this training mission.
“To break it down further, this is the wonderful Rhine front, where the Republican Army will throw periodic welcome parties for any useless bodies who deserve to be disposed of, and you can get promoted two ranks in no time at all.”
Still, the high rate of attrition on the Rhine lines can only be lamented. It’s a fundamental problem. I’m only a major, but all the superior officers here when I arrived were busy getting their posthumous double promotions or, if they were lucky, getting transferred or sent to the rear.
Before I knew it, as a major, I was closer to the top of the command structure than the bottom.
Oh, competition is so fierce in the Rhine lines labor market it’ll make you pale. What would Darwin say if he saw this? Is this the ultimate progression of the theory of evolution? Or is it a desolate place where the theory of evolution breaks down? It’s definitely a fascinating question.
“So anyone who wants to be a hero should go play with some snipers.”
Any time you spend talking to idiots who don’t listen is for nothing, and having them hang around using supplies is a waste.
The best thing they can do is go make an enemy sniper use up a bullet. If I can get rid of idiots and tire out enemy snipers at the same time, it’s not a bad deal.
“The rest of you. Do your best not to get in the way.”
Well, if they follow instructions they should at least be able to act as bullet repellant.
“Okay, gentlemen, we’ll probably only be together a short while, but let’s all get along.”
Guess that’s about it. Now then, time to work as much as I get paid to.
Shovels are great. Shovels are the quintessence of civilization.
With a shovel, you can dig a hole just deep enough to hide yourself. Or if you gather a bunch of people with them, you can dig a fine trench.
If you change your viewpoint just a little, you can even dig a tunnel. You can smash a sturdy enemy trench with mining tactics (not that they get used often).
A shovel is a good friend to any and every type of soldier. And a shovel is the best gear for a close-quarters fight in a trench.
Longer than a bayonet, simpler to handle than a rifle, sturdier than any other tool. Not only that, but they are extremely cheap to make, so they’re perfect for mass-producing. Plus, I don’t have to worry much about damaging my mind.
This is it, the ideal piece of equipment. This is the point humanity was meant to reach. Civilization has developed the shovel as its implement.
Above all, it doesn’t rely on magic, so it’s optimal for stealth kills. With a shovel, it’s possible to educate numbskulls who are dependent on magic scanning— Klang! We can say it’s an indispensable item for nighttime raids. Of course, it’s an excellent general-purpose tool at any time of day.
“The shovel is truly an implement born of civilization,” Tanya murmurs, leading a unit to wish good evening to the enemy with their shovels. On this nighttime outing, they get all muddy as they crawl over the ground on their bellies. Her objective is clear—it’s part of the new recruit education she has undertaken.
Tanya has no problem forcing them to wriggle through this morass if she can beat into them that the only ones who can dress nicely on the Rhine are dumbasses or corpses of heroes being sent to the rear. She doesn’t want to, but when it’s an order, she has no choice. And so, she’s reluctantly crawling at the head of the group, biting her lip.
If it were possible, she would want to go back this instant, but she’s advancing across no-man’s-land. Since the snipers have given up their day off and are going for the perfect attendance award, she and her troop, clad in the gray camouflage of the trench dress code, drag themselves inch by inch toward the enemy camp.
Sneaking forward, jumpy as a mouse, with a heavy steel helmet on your head is the height of humiliation. What torture that we can do nothing but sneak like this covered in mud! This place is utterly insanitary; the putrid reek of the unrecovered corpses of both sides has completely numbed my nose. Agh, how extraordinarily disgusting! Though conditions are severe enough that I lament as such, work is work. I curse the fruitlessness of this 3D (dirty, dangerous, and demeaning) labor from the bottom of my heart.
…Why are the higher-ups always asking for the impossible?
To find out how all this started, we have to go back several hours to the beginning.
Whether you see it as a comedy or a tragedy will depend on your point of view. The incident does, however, become the moment
um for marked improvements in the Imperial Army’s chain of command and communications channels.
“I’d like to hear your opinion on improving field battle capabilities.” The Operations staffer attached to Command who had come to visit Tanya that day handed her a circulating notice. On it were the loss rates of new soldiers stationed on the Rhine lines as replacements, separated by arm of service. What jumped out at her when she scanned the page was how high the numbers were. You could say the Empire’s new soldiers were literally dropping like flies.
As a frontline officer, she put the notice on her desk and sat down with a sigh. These are what the rates will be if you have to deploy new recruits with not enough training or experience.
“If I may be blunt, this is surely due to insufficient training and accelerated education. I should think that instead of learning how to march in formation, they need to be trained how to lie in a trench. Aside from that, perhaps they should also be baptized in the most difficult parts of trench warfare under conditions that minimize casualties.”
“They certainly have a ways to go to be useful, but…we can’t very well stand them up in front of the machine guns, either.”
Seeing the important colonel sigh, bring his coffee to his lips, and grimace, Tanya’s face stiffened. On the forward-most line, there’s no way to provide adequate hospitality. She had given Lieutenant Serebryakov strict orders to make it the best cup of coffee she could, but there probably hadn’t been enough fuel to boil the chalk out. The colonel had drunk some, so she did, too, but it tasted awfully tainted.
“…You don’t like it, sir?”
That said, she showed him what it was like on the front lines by implying that that’s just how it tastes there.
“I don’t mean to nag you about conditions on the front, but…this is horrible. It reminds me of the dining room at the central General Staff Office.”