by Carlo Zen
“…They couldn’t stop the enemy planes?”
“The air force was in charge of interception; they’re drawing up the report of their accomplishments now. The ratio they managed to down wasn’t bad, but if we want to stop every enemy, we need numerical superiority…”
He’s serious, thought Rudersdorf with a wince and asked about the important part—how they would respond. “Colonel Uger, what’s Zettour doing about it?”
“The other day he coordinated with the Foreign Office to denounce the attacks for violating the law of war. These are bombings on population centers with no warnings, so they’re publicizing that fact to third parties and condemning them.”
Whoa, hold on. Rudersdorf’s mouth fell open.
“…I had heard about it, but can the Service Corps expand their activities so much without running shorthanded?”
“All we’re really doing is compiling the damage reports.”
It wouldn’t do to forget how Zettour had warned him not to work his subordinates too hard when they were already so understaffed.
His intention was to bring up a slight concern, but Uger replied in an unfazed tone that it was nothing…which only made Rudersdorf realize he really did have to be careful how he worked the man.
“I appreciate your diligence. Is our protest and propaganda war having an effect?”
“Formally, not at all. At about the same time as this bombing, we got a response from the Commonwealth via the embassy of a neutral country—stating that the recent bombings are being carried out by Federation air units; we of the Commonwealth are not involved.”
Rudersdorf sighed in spite of himself.
“You can’t get any Commonwealth prisoners out of the planes you’re shooting down?”
“They just claim that they’re Commonwealth, but they left home to join up with the Federation air force.”
“These guys have a comeback for everything, talking out of three sides of their mouths! It’s so annoying! How thick-skinned can they be?!” He didn’t mean to start shouting, but he realized with a wince that he’d raised his voice before he even realized. Oops.
It wasn’t that he didn’t understand the logic of the legal debate; he just didn’t see himself ever enjoying these conniving, roundabout ways of putting things.
“…Sorry, Colonel Uger. Please bear with me until Colonel von Lergen gets back.”
“No, General von Zettour told me to support you with everything I can muster. I’m at your service. Supporting the front lines is precisely what those in the rear are meant to do.”
That may have been the model view, but the fact that he could express it calmly while on night duty…was astounding.
“You’re really a no-nonsense guy, huh?”
“Sir?”
The puzzled reply made Rudersdorf wish they weren’t speaking over the phone. He would have liked to see what kind of face the colonel was making.
“I’m impressed you didn’t burn out serving under General von Zettour. He asks too much of people.”
“More than a few of the people I joined up with are on the front lines now. I believe it’s my job to do everything I can on my own battlefield to help them. An officer warming a seat in the rear can’t complain.”
“That’s the ideal view for a matériel mobilization officer to have. Very good,” he continued, aware that he had taken the conversation on a tangent. He steered them back toward the job at hand. “Colonel Uger. The plan to supply the ongoing Operation Andromeda is questionable. General von Zettour told me that the railways were the magic key, so I want to confirm… There’re no problems with transportation itself at present?”
“The public safety operation the Council for Self-Government conducted was a success, so the railways themselves have been freed from the threat of bandits. The issue with track standards is still fairly pressing…but since it’s neither winter nor the muddy season, we can squeak by with recovered rolling stock and on-the-spot rail repairs.” Uger said he was handling it, but the situation he spoke of wasn’t nearly as encouraging. “The bottleneck isn’t the supply lines but the supply itself. Since the industrial production zone has been forced to introduce measures against the nightly air raids, production has taken a hit.”
“Specifically?”
“Even the blackout policy inevitably has a negative effect when factories are operating around the clock.”
That wasn’t hard to believe. A blackout hinders efficiency by definition. Having to guarantee continuous operations in the middle of the night during a mandatory blackout must have been miserable.
But without the blackout and continuous operations, logistics would crumble.
“…So having our industrial base in the west has become a vulnerability for the Empire…”
The historical how and why that led the Empire’s manufacturing to be clustered within range of the Commonwealth’s air force was certainly unfortunate at this juncture. The worry of night raids had always loomed, and now that they were actually happening, Rudersdorf just wanted to hold his head in his hands.
“We have to come up with a better air defense plan ASAP. Thanks, Colonel Uger. Keep up the good work on matériel mobilization.”
“Yes, sir!”
After putting down the receiver with a click and releasing a sigh, Rudersdorf took out a cigar and began smoking to try and buoy his spirits.
Understanding—at this late date—the pains Zettour had been going through with managing matériel was frustrating.
…There are just too many issues to worry about.
If the enemy is trying to reduce our capacity, then we should reduce theirs, too.
Recomposing himself, he held his cigar in his mouth while picking up the receiver he was so familiar with and dialing a number.
“Operations, it’s me. Sorry for the late call, but what ended up being the story with that bunch of ships of unknown nationality?”
“According to reports from the Northern Sea Fleet’s patrol craft and submarines, the convoy is growing larger. We figure it’s the Federation swiftly filling in the losses they sustained at the beginning of the war.”
A simple and clear report. It painted a picture of enemy distribution that was only growing stronger, much to his disgust.
“We can’t board them? I’d like to stop them if possible.”
“The navy says it’s difficult. They’re being escorted by the Commonwealth Home Fleet, so with our surface fleet, it’s…”
The officer from Operations probably didn’t mean to say as much, but…Our fleet can’t compete with the Commonwealth’s navy wasn’t the sort of report Rudersdorf wanted to hear.
But for better or worse…he was getting used to hearing it. He wished they would figure something out…
“Why can’t they use marine mages? Shouldn’t the navy be able to think of that?”
“The navy has only a small cohort of aerial mages. There aren’t enough to force the issue. And other mages would need to be trained in maritime navigation before they will be able to be of any use keeping an eye out for the enemy.”
“So bridging the gap will take time.” He grumbled, “Nothing to be done about it now, I suppose.”
…Andromeda was an offensive predicated on the assumption that the enemy didn’t have much energy left. If the assumption that both sides were hurting was shattered, success became extremely doubtful.
It was irritating that they couldn’t grasp the enemy’s movements, but depending on how well outfitted their opponents were, the Empire would have to also consider how feasible it was to hold on to their occupied territories.
“Can you get a handle on the influx into the southern zones?”
“The Federation’s counterintelligence is frustratingly perfect. That weirdo Loria from the Commissariat
for Internal Affairs is a capable weirdo, so he’s just all-around nasty.”
“Things are that bad?”
“He keeps secrets locked down with unbelievable zeal and a stubborn attention to detail. For HUMINT, we have to rely on the former Federation Council for Self-Government, but for things outside the zones where their people aren’t—”
Rudersdorf interrupted, as if to say he’d heard enough. “Hurry up the analysis of our aerial reconnaissance. And what about breaking their code?”
“The crypto warfare section is borderline overworked. Federation Army codes used to be easy to break, but they’ve been getting a lot stronger.”
“It’s like being smoke screened at every turn. And we’re supposed to keep fighting a war like this?”
Cutting off his subordinate’s apology, Rudersdorf got to thinking. If the enemy is going to skirt the law, two can play at the game… We should follow suit.
“We have to stop the enemy convoy from delivering those supplies… Isn’t there some approach we haven’t tried yet?”
There should have been one method for pinching off the flow that they had been considering.
“We had that one plan, whatever it was, right?”
“You mean unrestricted submarine warfare?”
“Yes, that,” replied Rudersdorf.
“…There’s a large risk of violating the law of war… Are you certain that’s wise?”
The hesitation in the Operations man’s voice was exasperating. Laws again? “We have to avoid possible complications and keep it legal somehow. I want someone researching loopholes in the law.”
“The navy’s legal division points to the wartime contraband regulations and limitations of the safe sea passage policy. But the specialists in these laws say that the inspection rules weren’t made with subs in mind, so that discrepancy could be dangerous.”
Rudersdorf wanted to answer, Why should I care? but he couldn’t ignore the argument.
This was the moment he really resented Supreme Command for banishing Zettour to the eastern front. Rudersdorf wasn’t very good at the precise language and grammar necessary for legal interpretation.
How much easier this would be if I could just throw it all at him…
“…Right, thanks. Anyhow, keep looking into it for now.”
“Yes, sir.”
After hanging up, Rudersdorf smoked his cigar in silence for a time. A few thoughts came and went through his mind, but, rare for a man whose MO in normal times was decisive, quick action…he wasn’t sure what to do.
“I’m stuck, huh?”
It’s not like me, but it’s unsurprising, given the circumstances.
“Apparently, not having him around really throws me off… Guess I’ll have to answer my own questions.”
[chapter IV] Encounter and Engage
JUNE 18, UNIFIED YEAR 1927, THE EASTERN LINES, SOLDIM 528
If I write that fortifying the position at the Soldim 528 position is going slow…is that a contradiction? A position not being a position yet does seem to go against common military sense.
But that’s where we’re at in reality. There’s a serious shortage of materials. As a result, we’re having to make do with what’s on hand using that creative ingenuity known as the wisdom of the field.
A classic example would be using an underground storehouse as a subterranean trench, perhaps? And that is exactly where Lieutenant Colonel Tanya von Degurechaff has posted herself.
At that moment, about to face a major Federation Army offensive, she is savoring a light nap in her uncomfortable, underground pseudo-bed.
A familiar sound comes closer.
It’s always the sound of shell impacts that wakes her.
“…Tch. As usual, it’s a bit too loud for a pleasant wake-up call.” Jumping up and putting on her cap, she remembers the Rhine, dwelling on the irritating memories. They say memories are beautiful, but there was nothing beautiful about the Rhine.
Tanya shakes her head. Some things are an improvement.
For instance, the environment.
Instead of soaking in muddy trenches, she can go straight to the battlefield from a crumbling, partially submerged pseudo-bedroom; that should probably be celebrated as a cozy work-from-home situation.
“Enemy attack! Enemy attack! All units, prepare for combat! I say again, all units, prepare for combat!”
The belated alarm that rings out and the tension slipping into the voice calling everyone to arms are unmissable harbingers of large-scale combat. Since we’ve been expecting it, given the increasing pressure from the enemy over the past few days, it’s all too easy to realize that this is a major Federation offensive—there’s no room for misunderstanding.
“Damn Commies. Working overtime is against your ideology!”
Diligently preparing to attack, getting units into position, coordinating between artillery and infantry—that’s not the sort of work that can be wrapped up by quitting time. Even a well-disciplined unit like the Salamander Kampfgruppe would take weeks to finish a job like that working only five hours a day. Commies say they protect workers’ rights, but they’re swindling labor out of people more effectively than the capitalists.
With rage against injustice, unfairness, and deviance in her breast, Tanya swears to herself that this cheapening of labor will not stand. This unfair competition can’t be forgiven. Everything must be done fairly.
Waiting for Tanya when she arrives at the command post bunker in a whirlwind of righteous indignation are reports from Captain Ahrens and Captain Meybert, who were on duty. The gist is that the enemy has come out raring for a fight.
And even while she is being briefed, the command post is a flurry of activity. First, Lieutenant Serebryakov appears with a message from Major Weiss, who is standing by with the battalion for rapid response. At the same time, communications personnel are relaying the info to B Group HQ and requesting reinforcements from the air fleet.
Everything is being handled according to procedure.
Thankfully, that affords Tanya, the commander, some, if not much, time—more precious than gold—to think about their situation.
“If the enemy is coming, our only option is to fight back, huh?” Tanya murmurs to herself.
For a commander on the defense, it’s less something that needs to be anticipated and more of a…preestablished harmony. And to be frank, there isn’t much room for inventive approaches to countering the enemy attack, either.
“Captain Ahrens, what’s the status of the armored forces?”
“They’re all still hidden in shelters. No losses.”
Without her needing to ask, Meybert gathers that she wants to hear from him as well. “Same for the artillery. Apart from the squad providing sporadic support to the infantry, the guns are being saved for later… although about ten percent of our remaining shells got caught in an explosion.”
“That was a tough blow the other day. Getting our food bombed to bits was a frustrating failure.”
It isn’t clear whether it’s preparatory bombardments, harassment, or the Federation just showing off their guns, but their artillery has been causing damage to Soldim 528.
Construction on the position is running behind because of a lack of materials. That’s not fatal, but it’s enough trouble that it’s hard to be optimistic. Compared to the days on the Rhine front, this war is so wretched, I almost want to cry.
Before, it was like materials grew on trees. These days, there isn’t even enough space to store what ammo and rations we do have. There aren’t enough protected areas. Thanks to that, supplies are basically stored in bivouacs, and stray enemy shots have blown away some of our temporary storage.
Maybe it would be worth it to gather the scorched wheat. But exploded shells could hardly be rounded up and reused. Recycling has its limits.
“All right, if we have enemy infantry on our periphery…are we finally facing an all-out offensive?”
The enemy’s movements conform perfectly to a
classic assault. The infantry inches ahead and attacks after a few days’ preparation. Meanwhile, the side under siege piles up all the ammo it can find and waits. Textbook offense and defense.
Suddenly, Tanya realizes something is missing. To name it: the trumpet calling for the charge, the preparatory bombardment that is the modern-day Gjallarhorn. It’s indispensable even for an attack by aerial mages to take control of the sky.
This is the theory.
For a tactical sneak attack, a short, concentrated bombardment is considered a suitable solution, but normally, supporting artillery fire is an essential element of an offensive.
“It’s not even a night raid, so it’s weird that they’re not doing a thorough preparatory bombardment.”
“But, Colonel, they probably don’t have that many shells, either, right?”
Tanya nearly nods in response to Meybert’s plausible remark but resists the temptation; we can’t cave to optimism.
As a rule, anything that can’t be declared confidently is a hypothesis. Above all, I have a bad feeling about the Federation lately. It’s a state blessed with matériel. Even if they’re struggling, would the enemy really send in their infantry with no support besides that sparse scattering of shells that landed a little while ago?
“We need to keep in mind the possibility that it’s a ruse to make us think that.”
Though it’s true that enemy bombardments are prone to cutting off. That makes this tricky.
“At present, the enemy artillery are temporarily inactive. We should treat this as a rare opportunity. The question is how much pressure the enemy infantry will put on us. That depends on how long Lieutenant Tospan’s unit can hold out…”
We can’t expect much from him is what I really think.
In the worst case, Tanya will have to pull a pseudo–command group move like the Federation Army again. She’s prepared to go out there, kick the infantry’s ass with Serebryakov, and even arrange for a diaper if she must.
Tanya’s adjutant, clinging to the comms equipment, interrupts her train of thought with a shout.
“Lieutenant Tospan would like to make a suggestion!”