by Carlo Zen
JUNE 10, UNIFIED YEAR 1927, EASTERN FRONT B GROUP HEADQUARTERS
“U-urgent message from the Lergen Kampfgruppe! Soldim 528 is suddenly surrounded by extremely powerful Federation units!”
In order to contain their encroaching enemies, the Federation Army launched an offensive in response to the commencement of Andromeda, and ensuing movements of A Group to capture southern cities was not unexpected.
Everyone in B Group Headquarters crinkled their brows and clicked their tongues in their heads, vexed that their worst predictions had come true.
As soon as they got the report, several murmured, “Here they come…,” and swept their eyes over the map, but as they scanned the defensive lines looking for Soldim 528, they were momentarily confused.
“It’s not on the Melting Line?!”
HQ had expected the enemy to advance down the broad, convenient highway.
For that reason, they had committed all their limited resources to what they assumed would be the main battlefield, what they had taken to calling the “Melting Line.” The staff officers of B Group were now realizing that their predictions had been completely wrong.
There was no sign of Soldim 528 along the anticipated route. Instead, after poring over the map…they could hardly believe their eyes when they found it in a sparsely defended area far from the main road. It was a tiny little bridgehead on a barely operating railway.
“What the hell? Shit! Why there?”
Are you serious? The route was that astonishing. Given that the attack was coming from an unexpected direction, the shock and embarrassment of the B Group staffers were severe.
“Are we ordering the defending group to fall back?!”
“No! It’s too late! They’re already surrounded!”
All the staff officers had to admit it: The Federation Army had gotten the best of them. They weren’t unwilling to admit when they’d been taken completely by surprise. But even so…all the high-ranking officers spat in amazement, “Surrounded?! How is that possible?!”
This was the eastern front.
Not the jungle, not some rugged mountain region, not the Norden border zone with its notoriously poor visibility. While the vicinity of Soldim 528 had a tendency to become swampy, it was flat, open ground typical of the battlefields in the east.
The enemy had done something truly unexpected.
But that didn’t explain how the defending unit got surrounded so easily. Whoever was on watch should have detected the enemy’s approach. It would have been one thing if the first report had been about the enemy heading their way, but reporting in that they were encircled was bizarre. Could it even be possible for Soldim 528 to be surrounded without warning unless all the troops were napping?
It’s out of the question for a modern army to overlook the movements of a major enemy force. Aerial recon by plane and observer mages keeping watch over the ground had long since become standard practice, so what could possibly explain this…?
A few of the staffers were of a mind to conclude that the surrounded unit was simply a bunch of idiots, but when they confirmed the name of the unit, they shook their heads in disbelief and had to laugh at the ludicrous situation.
If the seasoned and decorated Lergen Kampfgruppe couldn’t be considered competent, then who could? Unable to comprehend the situation, everyone began to yell.
“Why is the Lergen Kampfgruppe surrounded?!”
“Why Colonel von Lergen?!”
“What were the sentries and men on watch doing?!”
“Why didn’t the aerial mages detect them?!”
Amid the uproar of crisscrossing shouts, one man looked on with disinterest.
It was Lieutenant General von Zettour, who, it was whispered, had been demoted and exiled from Central. He was the only one present who maintained his usual composure as he stood to address the room.
“Gentlemen, discussion is all well and good. But this isn’t a university—we should be debating what to do.” He appealed to honor and reason to dispel the turmoil. “The enemy advanced down a route you didn’t anticipate. As a result, your troops have been surrounded. We have no choice but to act… If we accept the reality of our situation, then we have no choice but to save the Lergen Kampfgruppe.” Surveying the eastern army staffers, Zettour emphasized his conclusion. “The only thing to debate right now is how to help them. How should the rescue be conducted? That’s all.”
Their fellow soldiers were encircled, so they needed to be saved. It was an extremely simple line of thought.
Any soldier, especially any officer entrusted with the lives of other soldiers, would have a hard time openly disagreeing with such a statement. And above all, HQ had to make up for their misreading of the situation.
“Please wait, General.”
“What is it?”
“Sending relief under these conditions? I’m sure you know this, but the General Staff gave us strict orders to focus on a passive defense. And more importantly, we don’t have any soldiers to spare…”
“That’s not quite right.”
The B Group staffers tried to argue that it wasn’t feasible, but Zettour drove his point home.
“The strict orders the General Staff gave you are to defend the lines. The mission is to hold the lines; it doesn’t restrict your movement.”
“But please take into consideration how few troops we have!”
“I’m fully aware that our numbers are less than ideal, but without any alternatives, we have no choice… As far as I can see, we should resolve this with a strike of surgical precision. Seems to me like this calls for a concentrated deployment of our reserves, no?”
“Y-y-you mean all the reserves?”
His response to the hesitation was definitive. “That’s right. Obviously.” He continued, “We can’t abandon our troops.”
“I think ordering them to withdraw under their own power and supporting as we’re able is enough. As long as we lack the troops to mount a major operation to break the encirclement…”
“Is that a roundabout admission that you learned nothing from the staff officer curriculum?” Zettour furrowed his brow as if he’d spotted an insufferable fool. “You would order a unit that has found itself under siege due to their superiors’ errors to withdraw on their own? Let me ask you something. What did they teach you at war college?”
This was an elementary concept in basic leadership. Not sending out a rescue when you could has far-reaching adverse effects in the military.
“Are you really saying that after sending matériel to the Melting Line on a mistaken assumption, you’re going to do nothing but watch as the troops at the Soldim position get slaughtered? You can’t tell me you don’t know why the high-ranking General Staff officers who emptied the Rhine front to send the Great Army up north were demoted.”
You can’t quantify intangible assets such as fighting spirit, morale, or trust in the organization. Human souls are the same. They’re not something that can be seen. But can you call someone without one human?
As a group of humans, armies are no exception.
And a blunder made by command is like a nasty flu. It eats away at the entire army. And absurdity is even worse than a blunder. What would happen if instead of rescuing a unit they could save, HQ told them to make it back on their own? Overnight, they’d have an uncontrollable army on their hands.
The issue of whether to leave the Lergen Kampfgruppe isolated or rescue them was the choice between essentially killing the army or fighting through a path of thorns.
“Abandoning them to die amounts to negligence on the part of the commanders. It would cause the trust in the chain of command that makes up our army to rot away,” Zettour spat in exasperation.
It had to be one of the two; a choice had to be made. Any fool who would choose the suicide of the military in this situation did more harm than good by being in the army, and the only cure for that was a firing squad.
“Are you trying to turn our disciplined troops into
a pitiful, frightened mob overnight?”
The staff curriculum polished staff officers’ ability to be vicious, but the assumption was that it would be used against the enemy. They couldn’t entertain the option of abandoning a friendly unit that was possible to save.
“…If nothing else, you at least have to act like you’re intent on saving them. And in this case, being effective is more important than projecting an attitude. I don’t think any of us wants to be known far and wide as the Imperial Army command that abandoned its troops in the east.” Wearing an openly nasty smile, Zettour carefully observed the gathered staffers, overawing them.
Abandoning the troops to their fate would irrevocably damage trust. Building up trust again would require time they didn’t have, but it would take only a single mistake to destroy it so thoroughly that there wouldn’t even be dust left behind.
“I’m sure the Federation Army would eagerly share that news with the Council for Self-Government. Giving them propaganda material is as good as aiding the enemy.”
If you join in the Empire’s fight, you’ll be forsaken. Surely, all the fighting countries would be shocked. They also had to watch out for the Commonwealth whispering to the Council for Self-Government.
If the enemy made the same error—honestly, Zettour wished they would—he would happily use it in the propaganda war.
Most critically, the Council for Self-Government’s counterintelligence situation was not great, even speaking generously. If they lost trust in the Empire that was suppressing their unrest, it wasn’t logical to expect them to keep a lid on their paranoia.
If Federation moles worked behind the scenes to further exploit that…the Empire would have to be ready for the Council for Self-Government to flip sides. The issue was a serious dilemma.
In order to reduce obvious crackdowns in the occupied territory and maintain public order and stability, the Council for Self-Government tended not to look into the personal history of the people they employed. If they did, their government would necessarily end up being unforgiving. They needed a moderate compromise.
Indeed, given the aim of the policy to secure friendly, anti-Federation territories, there wasn’t really an option to remove suspicious individuals. So inevitably, Federation agents would creep in.
Of course, they were already exercising the utmost caution under that assumption… Casting a wide net tended to catch some unsavory elements.
It was impossible to be certain with only a couple of pieces of supporting evidence, but…there was even some suspicion that a Commonwealth Intelligence agent had infiltrated the theater of operations.
There was simply too much intel leaking. They had spotted what appeared to be a case of leaked classified messages sent between the diplomats dispatched nominally as a delegation to the Council for Self-Government.
Analysis to determine whether imperial codes had been broken or not came out definitively negative.
Even if one transmission or cipher was broken, as long as they were changing the codes regularly and continually working to improve its strength, the communications security team guaranteed that it couldn’t be compromised.
If it wasn’t the code, then that left only the people. And sickeningly enough, their enemies in the Commonwealth were unusually skilled at HUMINT. Of course, it was always the case that the intelligence agencies of hostile states wanted to burrow their way in…but there was no reason to give more intel to the fellows who seemed to have mouths only so they could leak more things to the enemy.
Zettour shook his head, clearing away extraneous thoughts, and reemphasized his intentions to the staff officers of the eastern army’s B Group. “I’ll get straight to the point. Based on political necessity and military rationale, I urge you to take immediate action. I request that we break the encirclement with a maneuver battle.”
His comment hit the room like a bomb. It was a request backed by nothing but vague authority. Under normal circumstances, it would be easy to ignore or refuse.
Yet, problematically, his refrain of We mustn’t abandon our troops struck most of them as extremely logical and valid.
“Oh, and if an inspector’s word isn’t enough for you…you can add on the voice of the deputy chief of the Service Corps. By the power vested in me by the General Staff, I request immediate action to prevent any negative influence on the Council for Self-Government.”
The air froze.
All the staffers locked their gazes on Zettour with eyes that made it seem as if they’d just been walloped over the head. The only thing that kept them from blurting out Are you insane? was their last remaining crumbs of reason.
Though shock had shattered their rationality, it could be scraped back together. They were able to barely—just barely—maintain the facade of composure social animals have.
“…With all due respect, General, do you understand what you’re…?”
For better or worse, well-trained soldiers have powerful self-control.
That’s all well and good, but from Zettour’s point of view, they were overly pessimistic and lacked assertiveness.
“You want to call me an idiot, right? Then don’t hold back. I’m fairly certain that I’m not inept, lacking self-awareness, or unintelligent enough to not comprehend what I myself said.”
Zettour was in the special position of having the ceremonial title of inspector but also retaining his position as the deputy chief of the Service Corps in the General Staff. A “request” from someone with both those titles would require an awful lot of resolve to refuse.
Of course, Supreme Command would be disgruntled. They purposely didn’t give Zettour authority so things like this would happen…so if this ended badly, it would become a huge problem.
But honestly, Zettour didn’t care. Some wagers are meant to be made regardless of the odds.
“Now then, I think that took care of your hesitation… Was there anything else?”
Zettour must have managed to acquire his reputation as a mild academic due to always being paired with Lieutenant General von Rudersdorf, who was overly aggressive, and Lieutenant Colonel von Degurechaff, whose underlings could rush headlong into battle at the drop of a hat. He smiled wryly to himself to think that ultimately, it was a relative assessment.
Oh, how people change depending on their environment!
Amused, though his expression didn’t change, he spoke again. “Put another way, this is a great chance. The enemy is here. They waltzed right into our grasp. Every military man’s eternal dream is to annihilate the enemy field army. Then why don’t we take advantage of this and pull off our own encirclement to crush them?”
Overpowered by the strength residing in Zettour’s eyes as he grinned, the staffers nearly began to nod, but apparently their badges weren’t just for show, either.
A few puzzled officers piped up, albeit timidly.
“General, it may be disrespectful of me to say so, but…you seem awfully relaxed. Is there some secret to being so unflappable?”
Implied between the lines was their suspicion that the conversation was proceeding a bit too neatly.
And in reality, Zettour’s way of leading them to the answer with no concern for the fog of war stemmed from a trick.
It didn’t seem like he had predicted where the enemy would come from and just happened to have a backup plan ready for them.
That could only mean…
But then, if they didn’t sense something was off, he would have had to lament their naïveté. An unsuspecting staff officer is immature. Without the superior coordination skills and discriminating intellect of someone like Lieutenant Colonel Uger, a staffer was liable to be disposed of.
“Just experience and preparation.”
The word preparation caused eyes to widen throughout the room. In addition to the slight tension in the air, a hint of wariness appeared. Apparently, they weren’t all timid.
“Could it be that the Lergen Kampfgruppe is…?”
“A pawn to buy ti
me? I won’t go so far as to deny it,” Zettour answered with a little smile, partially relieved. Yes, your vague suspicions are correct.
Let’s get straight to the facts.
The Empire had gathered its main forces on the southern edge of the eastern front. The idea was careful selection and concentration, but stripping away units and resources was allowed in the case of scarcity. That’s why the rest of the eastern front was supposed to limit itself to nothing but defending what they held. Zettour and the staff of the eastern army were all aware of this.
“General, do you mean to overrule the existing defensive policy on your own authority?”
“That’s a nasty way to interpret it.”
“But there’s no other explanation!”
“While you were all looking to the right, I was on guard against the left—that’s all. The Lergen Kampfgruppe got surrounded to clean up your mess!”
“General, how can you say that?”
He had just been posted to the eastern front, and nothing he said had been enough to convince them. His only other option was to force Degurechaff to stake her life on the defense of Soldim 528.
Slightly irritated, Zettour snapped, “Oh, it’s not very hard. After all, we’ve been tasked with defending a vast amount of territory despite being desperately outnumbered. Attempting a textbook defense is a pipe dream. That’s why the Lergen Kampfgruppe is out there drawing the enemy attack!”
“S-so you’re saying…they got surrounded on purpose?”
“I imagine it’s a voluntary decision of self-sacrifice. I know Colonel von Lergen personally to some extent—he’s an Operations man.”
Strictly speaking, it was a she and not at all voluntary, but… When it came down to it, Zettour was sure Lieutenant Colonel Degurechaff would be faithful to her duty. Once he gave the order, he was confident she would work her troops to the bone.
The deception was ridiculous, but it was also simply reality that there were very few people who would refuse to conduct a rescue after being given that explanation.
“The colonel must have felt he couldn’t let the vulnerable lines be overrun and made a tactical call. If they withdraw, the enemy will come flooding in. Then we will lose the initiative. He simply couldn’t stand by and watch that happen,” Zettour said coldly, implying that thinking at the operational level, a passive defense wouldn’t be enough. “Now then, gentlemen, I’ll ask you again… If the enemy is here, and our troops are in a pinch, shouldn’t we go out to meet them?”