by Carlo Zen
But the view, unique to mages with a boosted observation formula, told him the people beyond the beat-up mages were only people. Yes, people whom he couldn’t imagine were capable of fighting. On their faces were anger and fear, plus despair and the faintest hope that they might escape. By the time he realized it, Grantz himself was unexpectedly awash in a feeling that was difficult to understand. Are we really going to rip away those people’s last protection?
“After you eliminate the rear guard, the plan is for the artillery to finish off the remaining enemies. We request that you take no more than ten minutes.”
…But Command didn’t seem to want to let the group of “enemies” go. Of course, they were an army. Grantz knew in his head that they were an army. But his emotions screamed, Are you really—? Are you really going to let that happen?
But his superior didn’t voice any objections whatsoever. The orders to mop up the remaining adversaries who were trying to deploy protective formulas to defend the people from Major von Degurechaff, from the artillery—they were orders to get rid of the mages trying to help the people escape.
But Grantz had learned that his commander would give such orders matter-of-factly, with no trace of emotion… That was the right way for a soldier to be. She isn’t wrong. She isn’t…wrong…
“HQ to Pixie Battalion. That is all. Over.”
The wishes of the superior who closed out the transmission were no more and no less than that.
Kill them, they said.
Once they were gone, the protective formulas would disappear instantaneously. After that, Grantz had no doubt the artillery would pulverize the people. The artillery wouldn’t know the true identity of the “enemies,” so they would naturally do a great job. At least we’re only fighting the mages; we won’t be shooting the people behind them. But he could still guess what would happen next.
No, he knew quite well what would happen. We’re destroying their last shield.
“Pixie Battalion, roger that. We’ll do our best.”
The moment the mages were eliminated, those people would also be blown away. Concentrated artillery fire. On desolate flat country that hardly had any rubble, much less trenches. It was stranger to think they would survive.
Above all…why would artillery open fire on civilians who had no idea how to live through a bombardment? This is insane.
“…Commander, please reconsider this! If…if we eliminate them—”
Before he realized it—he could hardly believe it himself—he was giving his opinion to a superior.
He could sense that his face was deathly pale.
He had practically committed insubordination. He had argued against an order that came down from Command. That wasn’t the type of thing a mere second lieutenant could say to a battalion commander. Plus, he was essentially rebelling against the orders.
“Enemies of the Empire will be laid to waste. That’s great.”
“But, that’s—”
Maybe that was why he hesitated, but he had still objected.
Grantz was so confused he hardly understood what was happening himself, but he spoke up to try to stop Major von Degurechaff.
But she remained unfazed. “Lieutenant Grantz. The enemy you let escape can take up guns again—to shoot us.”
Yeah, probably. Their expressions were filled with loathing. Undoubtedly—undoubtedly—the Republic would gain zealous new soldiers from their ranks. Since they hated the Empire, the army would have no issues with their will to fight.
So you tell us to kill them? You’re telling us to kill someone who could be an enemy?
Perhaps she recognized his conflict, or perhaps she said it for no reason, but Major von Degurechaff added an important point at the end.
“If you don’t shoot the enemy, they’ll shoot you. We have to at least open fire until someone tells us not to. It’s an order, after all.”
Then before he knew it, he’d been knocked to the ground. He could feel dirt in his mouth. Well, more like mud.
His face complained of the pain where he’d been struck, but he was hazily conscious. Maybe her decision to sweep his feet out from under him instead of kick him down was born of kindness?
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that. This is an order. Pick up your gun. It’s time for work.”
Yes, it’s an order. I know I have to do anything I’m ordered to.
Because it’s an order. Fuck. An order…
Hello. Long-distance trains aren’t very comfortable, are they? First class is a lot better, but sure enough, in wartime it’s really only “better.” On top of that, since the army’s railway guns and supply trains are prioritized, the schedules are seriously off.
About all I should be doing in this situation is reviewing documents or sipping coffee (although it’s cold). For confidentiality purposes, not only are radios jammed, but I can’t even leave the first-class cars. What is that about?
Yeah, the food is relatively decent, since it’s provided by the train. That said, you can’t really relax and enjoy a meal with this mood.
On top of that, the menu’s tone-deaf main dish is beef stew.
Yes, normally I’m quite happy to eat stew, but at the moment, I’d rather not.
I mean, it’s good and all. It’s tasty, but I just saw an awful lot of things on the battlefield I just came from, so it’s a bit heavy. I acknowledge that it’s delicious, though. Yeah, I don’t think a meat doria would have made it down my throat.
Tanya is grumbling facetiously.
A super-fun legal debate and actually implementing those ideas are two different things! For instance, what’s the point of ludicrous proposals that maybe there aren’t any civilians because all your nation’s citizens are soldiers due to universal conscription, or total war, or whatever?
Normally something like that would never be realized. The problem is that the plans that logically would never be used and the pressures of necessity both exist in reality. What an outrageous age we live in.
People use up their kin and throw them away as if they’re not human. If they were at least using them in a clever way, they’d have room to debate, but this is completely random. Unforgivable waste, and on top of that, the idea of recycling to use resources efficiently hasn’t been developed. No, they’re practically ignoring it.
Honestly, I want to ask them how much human capital they’re planning to invest in this. Considering the cost and the time it takes to cultivate a mage, they really can’t be dropping dead all over the battlefield.
Even worse, a college graduate who continued on to get his PhD—a scientist—was stationed on the front lines until just the other day. But if we neglect science, we’ll fall behind the enemy’s new weapons and technology. Agh, I have no interest in dealing with what would happen if, say, the enemy had radar and VT fuses and we didn’t.
If they’re implementing the Manhattan Project and our scientists are dying on the front lines, isn’t that playing for the wrong team? I mean, that mad scientist should die, but apart from that…
Dr. Einstein may have been no good as a military man, but he contributed to the nation, which makes him better than a rank-and-file soldier! Don’t they know that rather than giving guys like Einstein and Nobel guns, they need to give them pencils and make them do calculations?! Of course, anybody with a touch of crazy like the mad scientist is a different story, but still.
Having mad scientists contribute is about as meaningless as standing Nobel up on the forward-most line. Having Nobel study nitroglycerin would be much better for society. He was also a wonderful guardian of human capital who advocated for peace in order to prevent wasting resources.
In other words, everything is for the future of humanity.
Alfred Nobel had a great reputation as a guy who “became rich by finding ways to kill more people faster than ever before” (as per Wiki), but there was no one who valued efficiency as much as he did!
If it were me, I would want to add, “He worked to protect h
uman capital.”
Ahh, why this extravagant waste of human capital? If there are plenty of posts and not enough talent, we can just pull them off the front lines. Don’t you think this is why we’re lacking talent?
Supposedly they are finally correcting this…
Well, all I can do is rewrite these notes as a formal opinion to turn in.
I’m on a train, but since we’re at war, there isn’t even any good scenery to look at, so I’m bored.
I’ve been summoned, though, so I guess I have to endure it.
Perhaps we’ll have some breathing room after thoroughly crushing Arene. The unit was given leave, and the higher-ups will consider where to station all the troops that were assembled. Well, I expected that much.
But why am I the only one who has to appear at the General Staff Office in the capital?
I sincerely reviewed my conduct to try to find anything that would warrant me being called in, but I don’t think I made any mistakes.
Yes, we saved lives and eradicated the enemy mages.
And before that, on the Rhine lines, I even received a decoration for my daring exploits, albeit in a simple battlefield presentation.
I don’t think any of my behavior has been problematic.
And I don’t recall any slipups in terms of controlling my subordinates, either. I adhere strictly to regulation in the battalion because there is no way I’m getting stuck in a military tribunal for mismanaging my reports like Mr. Yamashita.22
I have zero tolerance for abuse of prisoners. Due to the temperament of my unit, we rarely have prisoners, but I can say with confidence that we never torture or abuse our captured information sources. Unlike the amateurs who take more prisoners than necessary and then tear their hair out over how to feed everyone, we don’t take on more than forty-eight people can handle; it does make things somewhat easier.
I have an ideal unit that both adheres extremely close to international laws and devotes themselves to their missions, which is nice and easy; they don’t give me much trouble. So why am I being called in?
“Excuse me. Long time no see, Major von Degurechaff.”
I’m nearly lost in my meandering thoughts when they’re interrupted by a familiar voice. A man wearing a mid-ranking officer’s coat stands in the entrance to my compartment. Before I wonder who it is, I look at his face and more or less understand the situation.
“It certainly has been a while, Major Uger. Good to see you’re doing well.” I stand up, hastily remove my cap, and bow. Well, etiquette might also require that I let down my tied-back hair. Luckily, there are no rules enforced so inflexibly near the front lines.
Hmm, but I heard that Major Uger got a post in the rear. I think it was either with the army’s Railroad Department or Logistics.
Of all the officers in my class at war college, he’ll probably go the furthest. He had already been promoted to the middle ranks when I got my captain’s commission. He’ll probably make it to lieutenant colonel rather quickly for someone not serving on a battlefield.
Ahh, I’m jealous. After you serve in Logistics, you usually end up either in the General Staff or an instructor position at the war college. It won’t hurt me to stay on good terms with him.
“Yes, I’m glad to see you in one piece, too. I heard about Arene. Sounds like it was rough.”
“I’m afraid military secrets are involved, so I can’t give you details…”
And since we were in college together, we’re a bit closer than acquaintances. Or really, although class reunions and the hierarchy of commissions operate in the background, they still influence officers to have ties to one another—connections.
“That’s fine. Today I’m basically on an errand for General von Zettour. Are you, too?”
Aha, I guess I should say. He must be here as a messenger. The poor guy is really getting run around.
“Do you know something?”
“…Well, I suppose I can tell you…”
Can he keep a secret or not? Well, Major Uger is fairly sensible, so I’ll be happy he trusts me.
There’s nothing more handy and essential than connections, influence, and a network.
“The army’s Railroad Department is being asked to plan urgent transportation into a war zone. I’m going to report that.”
“…I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t see what that has to do with me. At most, won’t I be one of the field officers being transported?”
The Railroad Department performs a critical role in the Empire, where we use interior lines strategy. If the rails can’t move troops smoothly, our force can’t get where it needs to be in an efficient way, and we can’t concentrate our fighting power. Then the Great Army is like an elephant with a body, so big it can’t move.
A department that important probably gets asked to plan urgent transportation into a war zone fairly often.
That’s fine.
But why does that overlap with the reason I’ve been summoned?
I don’t mean to sound smart-alecky, but I’m a mage. And I’m a battalion commander—nothing more than a tactical component. At most, I’d be asked to get on such and such a train to go to such and such a place. Or, since I can fly, they might tell me to zoom off somewhere under my own steam.
There shouldn’t be any reason to call me all the way to the capital.
“It’s where they’re going that’s the problem. The higher-ups are apparently planning to pull the Rhine lines back.”
“The Rhine lines… You mean, we’ll retreat?”
The shock keeps Tanya from understanding what Uger has said for a moment.
We pushed so hard only to pull back?
“That’s right. I guess they mean to fall back and make them bleed.”
Fall back and make them bleed… So that’s what they’re doing? Hannibal’s Cannae, on this scale?!
“…That’s unexpected. It’s drastic, but an interesting idea.”
Agh, I guess I’m losing my edge. The Concorde’s failure isn’t funny anymore. We should adhere to the rule that says not to lament the money you’ve invested in an unprofitable enterprise but rather lament any further loss. My time on the front lines has really rusted my economic, rational sensibilities. It’s horrifying.
Or does Being X mean to destroy this faithful believer in the modern, practical spirit? I have to stay conscious of the context—that I’m in this war-torn world he was blabbing about. Terrifyingly, my senses of the market and what’s rational were on the verge of numbing.
Ahh, war is such a crime. I want to escape this human madness and wastefulness as fast as I can. We should quit this war with actual bombs whizzing around and have economic wars instead.
“Still…pulling back?”
But, hmm, General von Zettour has come up with a surprising idea, thinks Tanya with unstinting admiration.
It would take time and effort to push the lines forward, that’s for sure. A retreat isn’t so hard. And actually, even if the enemy pursues us, we can expect fewer casualties than if we charged at heavily defended trenches. It’s not a bad idea. If we organize the uneven lines, we should be able to face them head-on.
And well, striking into Republican territory gives their supply lines the advantage, but if we retreat, it’ll be easier on ours.
Of course, the plan will only work if they go along with it.
“That’s why the information is so tightly controlled… It seems like we’re going to be putting on a bit of an act.”
“An act?”
“Listen, Major. That mess in Arene destroyed our supply lines. We can’t maintain the front anymore.”
…Hold on a minute.
That’s the story we’re telling about our retreat?
No matter how inept we think the Republicans are, surely they’ll at least send out scouts.
“Isn’t that a bit of a stretch? Whether through a third power or a unit participating in the battle, I’m sure the truth will leak out.”
“No, just th
e opposite. We’ll spread propaganda through the other country. ‘The heroic citizens of Arene resisted and practically destroyed the Imperial Army’s railroad.’”
Wow. I’m genuinely impressed. I’m no propaganda expert, but I can imagine how effective this could be. I honestly never expected someone in this world, and at such an age, would come up with this brand of information warfare.
I’m struck once again by how wonderful the human race is, so truly adaptable.
Of course, it’s absurd that they can be this wise and still fight wars…
Well, behavioral economics attempts to explain the human ball of contradictions from an emotional angle.
I’m sure it makes many interesting points.
The citizens of Arene gave their all and fought so bravely, so fiercely, that the Imperial Army lines were shaken. The moment someone shouts, You would waste these gains? levelheaded debate will be overwhelmed by a torrent of emotion.
“You mean we’ll take away all their choices?”
Bravo. It’s a reproduction of the dance Bismarck made Napoleon III do. The Ems Dispatch incident is a truly classic feat of diplomacy. Even a mere sensible person like me can appreciate it.
This is essentially a provocation.
Well, if Bismarck’s move was a provocation, maybe this is more like coaxing. Well, I’ll leave the detailed categorizing to the academics, but I still want to praise this move with a bravo from the bottom of my heart.
“That’s right. Even if they don’t come to help them, all it will take is someone to whisper, ‘They abandoned them.’ It can’t hurt to send around that kind of disinformation.”
“It’s a marvelous idea. I’m surprised he thought of it.”
Well.
The Republican administration will probably hate getting a reputation as the type that watches resisting civilians die in the middle of total war when they need the unity of their people.
A nation can’t expect its people to accept its logic that a small sacrifice will benefit the majority.
Really, the only ones who declare something like that are the Soviets or their ilk, although in Pol Pot’s case his “small sacrifice” was about a third of the population.