The Saga of Tanya the Evil, Vol. 4: Dabit Deus His Quoque Finem

by Carlo Zen

For instance: The Imperial Army kicked down the red flag on land that commemorated the revolution and planted an imperial flag there instead.

  For instance: The Imperial Army raided a film distribution center and burned all the red flags in revenge.

  For instance: The Imperial Army shouted that they were opposed to the cult of personality and blew up the tomb of the revolutionary leaders.

  For instance: The Imperial Army destroyed the secret police and the cult of personality to avoid another revolution.

  For instance: The Imperial Army is withdrawing “forward” with its tail between its legs, as reported by the Federation media.

  For instance: The Imperial Army even took a commemorative photo at the Kremlin.

  For instance: The Imperial Army plans to screen the film They Don’t Believe in Tears as a form of cultural exchange or something of the sort.

  Upon inquiry, it turned out that latter rumor was an ironic take on a saying: “No one will help you even if you cry.” In other words, it was the Empire’s dark mockery of the serially distressed Federation with its beaten pride or whatnot.

  Apparently, the Empire’s raid was magnificent enough to leave a bitter taste in General Habergram’s mouth. By tomorrow, there would be jokes going around about the imperial and Federation forces. It goes without saying, but the citizens of the Commonwealth would never forgive them if they got mixed up in such an idiotic situation.

  They all knew that.

  Mainland defense had to come before cooperation with their allies.

  “…Get me the Free Republic’s foreign affairs chap. Either way, we need to consider how to handle this.”

  It was the prime minister who spoke. Certainly, his awareness of his responsibility and willingness to take initiative showed grace. His well-bred spirit of taking responsibility as one in charge required it of him.

  “I feel bad for General de Lugo, but it’s clear that we must prioritize mainland defense. With this change in the situation, there’s nothing else we can do.”

  If they had troops to defend the canal, then they had troops to send home. That decision was sure to breed opposition in the Free Republic. But if they didn’t do it, the Commonwealth mainland was liable to get attacked. If that happened, the war would be over.

  “That’s the truth. Although just the question of who should be the one to tell him is depressing.”

  …Well, yes, the diplomat charged with delivering the message would feel abysmal. At least, to the Commonwealth diplomats, it was like a seed of trouble being sowed.

  Of course, there was also the rational view that the beautiful, trusting relationship between the two countries couldn’t come to an end from this trifling incident. That is to say, things were always this way.

  MARCH 18, UNIFIED YEAR 1926, IMPERIAL ARMY GENERAL STAFF OFFICE

  The men had pained faces.

  Their clenched fists and distressed expressions spoke vividly to the intense worries tormenting them internally. Everyone was having extreme difficulties understanding how this could have happened.

  It was a scene that brought to mind the sorrow of patriots informed their country has been defeated. It was like the almost peaceful, distant pathos of soldiers whose dreams have been shattered. So moving one could almost cry.

  And…

  Right next to the men immersed in their lamentations, striking a contrast with their grave mood, were people madly cheering.

  They were all commending the Imperial Army for this great, historic deed. They expressed their support for the bold act of nailing the enemy capital as retaliation for the unilateral declaration of war.

  Those on the far right, who normally shrieked about the army’s kid gloves, praised them to the heavens. Meanwhile, on the far left, those who usually criticized the military were rendered speechless by the mighty achievement.

  “An imperial special ops unit has attacked Moskva.”

  That one report sent the people into a frenzy. No, the feat itself was intoxicating.

  But that was why—that was precisely why—the General Staff was stunned and troubled by the whole thing.

  “Request for permission to attack out of consideration for political factors.”

  There was a decisive difference in the understanding of those words between Major von Degurechaff and the General Staff. When the General Staff gave her permission, the most they had had in mind was a threat.

  After all, it was a country’s capital city. As a target for a distracting raid, it was more significant than most. So why not do it as a feint?

  Would it be misleading to say that was how lightly they took it? In any case, the most they envisioned was a flyby demonstration. Half the staffers had doubts it would even be possible to invade the capital at all.

  Meanwhile, Major von Degurechaff’s actions could only be called ruinous. Her battalion entered the airspace over the capital. That alone would have given the Federation considerable internal political issues. Well, if that had been all, it would have been good propaganda, and that would have been the end of it.

  Yes, if that had been all.

  A raid on a country’s capital.

  The political hub, the secret police headquarters, a political symbol—all crushed or otherwise damaged; a triumphant flying of their nation’s flag. And on top of that, they sang the national anthem in the enemy capital, followed by three cheers, and even took a commemorative photo with equipment they scrounged up somewhere.

  When she had reported that they had burned multiple red flags in pursuit of decent footage, they didn’t understand what she meant.

  Oh, but apparently, Major von Degurechaff herself brandished a camera and made a commemorative film. Perhaps just in terms of appearance, a little girl holding a camera is a heartwarming sight, but for reasons that go without saying, none of the General Staff officers found their hearts even a little warm.

  Rather, they felt something difficult to describe—as if the camera had been weaponized.

  “…I never expected her to go this far. Or that she could even be capable of this much, I should say…”

  Having received the report, Lieutenant General von Zettour looked unwell. No, it’s probably more accurate to say he was deathly pale. Thinking back on it, he recalled she had always been staunchly anti-Federation.

  She argued more strongly than anyone when it came to total war that the Reds should be eliminated and their espionage protected against.

  Not only that, she had been one of those sounding the traditional alarm against a two-front war. Her dogma was clear: If there was a chance to crush one side, then the other side should be thoroughly knocked out as well. Interior lines strategy and the strategy Major von Degurechaff called “attract and annihilate” had both been quite effective against the Republic.

  But that’s exactly why… Given a strategically free hand, what should the Empire do? If charged with answering that question, there was no doubt that Major von Degurechaff would launch a comprehensive strike on the Federation. But, it should be said, she had checked about political concerns.

  Thanks to which, she carried out unbridled destruction, beating the Federation’s pride into a pulp and burying it.

  In a nutshell, she overdid it.

  “…There’s no doubt it’s a great success. A direct attack on an enemy capital probably deserves a first-class order from the General Staff, but the 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion has clearly gone overboard. They’re competent, but they’re also incorrigible troublemakers.”

  A direct attack on an enemy country’s capital. That plus the albeit temporary raising of the imperial flag on its soil is a first-rate military achievement. And so thorough that the commander of the battalion even took up a camera to document it.

  At least they certainly achieved their original objectives of boosting morale and providing a distraction.

  “Do we have a plan for reconciliation?”

  “…You think it’s possible to grope around for one under these circumstances? S
upreme Command is grumbling that the Foreign Office won’t even be able to meet with them in a neutral country.”

  “I bet.”

  To the General Staff, who was hoping for a swift end, this was the worst possible news. Not only that, but any chance of negotiating toward an end to the war with the Federation Army, with whom it previously had a close relationship, had been completely obliterated in the span of just a few days.

  They had taken an opponent who valued honor above all else and not only made them lose face but trampled their dignity underfoot.

  The imperial subjects erupted in cheers, but even the applause gave the General Staff a headache. It wasn’t the right mood for talking about peace; some voices even called on them to force the Federation to surrender.

  What would have already been a difficult negotiation was now virtually impossible to realize. In chess terms, it was like being checkmated from the beginning.

  “Speaking on behalf of Intelligence, I conclude that the chances of peace in the foreseeable future are nonexistent.”

  It felt a little late in the discussion, but sounding somewhat resigned, Intelligence wrapped up its analysis of the situation. With this, all the hard work of the diplomats who had told them to concentrate on holding the border while they tried to find a solution was essentially meaningless—even though the army had been, until just the other day, reiterating that it would defend the borders.

  “From Operations, I imagine things on the main lines will ease up somewhat, but we’ll face extremely fierce resistance once we break through.”

  “The Service Corps is forced to worry that the Federation pressure on neutral countries will increase.”

  In purely tactical terms, it was a great success. It was certainly more than enough of a distraction to support the main lines. But from a strategic standpoint, the Imperial Army General Staff ended up squirming in agony as the result of a raid they themselves authorized.

  The Federation Army would approach this war as if its honor depended on it. No, their whole nation would. In a way, an entire second front had opened up while the Empire was already fighting the Republican remnants and the Commonwealth.

  “Intelligence agrees. Additionally, the influence of the Empire-friendly faction has drastically declined, and it’s hampering our ability to gather intelligence.”

  The Empire-friendly faction that had been steadily growing would probably be completely uprooted and purged.

  There was no hope for friendship with the Federation anymore.

  “…So, what’ll we do? I can’t imagine there’s a plan to attack them?”

  Naturally, the solution would be to knock out the Federation. But how in the world would they do that? The Federation was so vast that any decent officer would be forced to consider logistics.

  And the place was crawling with anti-Empire nationalists. The Imperial Army was liable to bleed out simply attempting to secure its supplies.

  “Utterly out of the question. That alone would cause the supply lines to collapse.”

  That remark summed up the consensus of all the staffers who were present. That’s precisely why they didn’t want to get into it with the Federation in the first place. They even warned all the regional armies to be prudent and not do anything to provoke it.

  “…But the die is cast.”

  Yes. They’d been forced into a stage from which there was no return. The Empire would surely pay a huge price for that tiny victory.

  “I suppose we should try to encircle and annihilate them in the east, too, bleeding them out. What else can we do?”

  When Degurechaff gets back, I’m going to throttle her, vowed Colonel von Lergen internally as he looked to General von Zettour for a decision.

  Either way, we don’t have many choices.

  She really is a mad dog. No, a mad lion.

  With those thoughts in his mind, Lergen looked drearily down at his proposal that had just been approved.

  A huge war…

  A war that will only grow bigger and bigger. He shuddered at the thought that they had just rushed headlong into its second act.

  [chapter] III A Magnificent Victory

  MARCH 25, UNIFIED YEAR 1926, GENERAL STAFF OFFICE WAR ROOM

  Deep inside the Empire’s General Staff Office, in the War Room…

  It had been ten days since they’d plunged into combat in the east with the Federation. The map with everyone’s positions scribbled on it spread out on the table showed how far the Imperial Army had fallen back during that time.

  It was evident from the repeatedly redrawn lines that the Eastern Army Group’s defensive positions had been gradually receding from the border. Of course, the Imperial Army General Staff had been prepared for the likelihood of getting pushed back by the Federation’s first attack.

  They were aware of how immense their enemy was, and they had a plan. Still, the reports from the front lines and the shift of the war showed, whether they wanted it to or not, that the strength of the fearsome attacking Federation Army was far beyond what they expected.

  Which was why Lieutenant General von Rudersdorf, who was planning their interception strategy, was forced to grumble that he wanted to concentrate more troops in the east.

  “The scale of the enemy is greater than we imagined. The Eastern Army Group has come crying to me; they’ve given up all their strategic reserves. At this rate, we’ll be chronically undermanned on every front. We’ll probably have to retreat farther than our initial plan.”

  “If you’re saying we should have prioritized stationing more troops in the east in the first place, I’ll take it.” But Lieutenant General von Zettour replied that there wasn’t anything else they could have done. “The Intelligence Division could use some help, I think. Here’s the latest information they rushed over.” Zettour continued, exasperated. “It’s a big army,” he said, watching Rudersdorf’s eyes pop at the documents he’d handed him. “They’re about a hundred and fifty divisions, and that’s only facing us in the east. They have another twenty-five divisions marching south to Dacia. Intelligence’s preliminary estimate was a hundred and twenty divisions total, but in reality they have about 50 percent more than that.”

  There was no mistake in acknowledging the Federation Army as gigantic. Zettour himself, as the one in charge of logistics, felt that if the Federation could move such a huge army so fast, its national strength couldn’t be taken lightly.

  The most astonishing thing was the concentration of forces. Due to its vast territory, the Federation had to split up its troops even more than the Empire did. Despite that, however—Zettour was genuinely in awe—they somehow managed to commit 175 divisions to one front. They had either tremendous confidence in the security of their other regions or other forces in reserve.

  “The horrifying part is that they aren’t even fully mobilized yet. These numbers are just absurd. How many do we have?” Rudersdorf grumbled in disgust.

  Zettour could only frown and nod—because there was a good chance that the Federation Army could still expand its forces for one more phase.

  When the Federation decided to sneak attack the Empire, it had worked to keep its intentions secret as long as possible. As a result, it should probably be said, until the safety canaries sang, despite being on guard against Federation activity, somehow the General Staff had failed to notice it.

  The Federation had managed to hold back from mobilizing until right before it opened hostilities, keeping its shift to wartime organization hidden from the Empire. With a sigh, Zettour told his friend and colleague the situation they were facing.

  “Things are pretty rough even on the main front in the east. The Eastern Army Group has been strengthened since the western front has quieted down, but they still only have sixty divisions. I sent over five from the former Entente Alliance front, plus three mechanized divisions and three infantry divisions from the homeland response reserves, but it’s still not even half of what we need.”

  “So only sending in th
e hundred divisions of the Great Army would let us catch a breath.”

  “About that, here’s the latest report. The situation is apparently not what we planned.”

  What? Rudersdorf asked with his eyes, and Zettour handed him documents from an envelope under his arm, stating his concise conclusion.

  “Full mobilization is probably not doable. They can move sixty.”

  The ideal was a hundred divisions, but the Imperial Army could actually offer only 60 percent of that. Zettour, from the Service Corps, found it exceedingly regrettable, but even that 60 percent would be made up of divisions patched with new recruits and reserves from the home front.

  They probably wouldn’t be as strong as they should be.

  “Sixty?! Zettour, that’s nothing like what we discussed!”

  “With two more weeks, we can move another thirty, but there’s no way for the last ten. They haven’t had enough key officers since the battles on the Rhine front and the western offensives. There is just no way to have a full roster.”

  He continued with an “On top of that.

  “You should feel lucky if those thirty are even usable, since they’ll be second-string security divisions from the rear. And I’m sorry to say the artillery they’re using is just what we could seize from the former Republican Army. As for machine guns, they’re even more poorly equipped than the troops were before we got into the trench battles on the Rhine.”

  “I’ve heard all about the equipment problems from you multiple times. That’s fine. But General von Zettour, this is the first time I’m hearing of the personnel shortage. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I don’t want to admit this, but the first I heard of it was also just twenty minutes ago. The deputy director of the Service Corps’ jurisdiction is gear and training… I don’t do personnel affairs. That would be Supreme Command and the Personnel Division.”

  That’s bureaucracy in action for you. They both grinned wryly, but it was no joke to either of them. Even if it was just accounting issues, limits on the amount of personnel they could use were intolerable at this point.