by Carlo Zen
Youth that doesn’t yet know how to doubt is dazzling like that.
“We’re shifting to offense in order to relieve them. We’ll lead the way… If we don’t, the eastern army…may never get off their asses. I want to believe this is just an issue in B Group… They’re only understanding their fellow soldiers’ crisis with their minds. Which is why…” Zettour unpacked the reasons the same way he had to the division commander. The idea was to explain, get sympathy, and offer a justification.
Say it was the right thing to do.
“They don’t have the proper sense of urgency, so we’re going to give them a kick in the pants. We’ll do a little blocking action.”
“Yes, sir!”
However…
Maybe Grantz was too thoroughly trained, given the happy look on his face when told he would lead the fight.
Even if only in name, Zettour’s official title was deputy director of the Service Corps in the General Staff. Naturally, it wasn’t recommended for him to go riding a military vehicle out to the forward-most line.
To say nothing about how impossible it would be to not stick out carrying a rifle and grenades. Those who would happily go along with the plan, no questions asked, were surely the exception.
And in reality, it seemed that normal people naturally had reservations about it—Commander Cramm, for instance.
When Zettour showed up at divisional headquarters before the sortie with Grantz and company as his escort, Cramm approached, already looking…confused.
“Hello there, Commander Cramm. Sorry to bother you when you’re so busy.”
“General? What can I do for you?”
“What a strange thing to say, Commander. How’s the unit? I hope my vehicle will be here on time.”
Apparently, even this most military man became lost for words when shocked. After freezing up for a few seconds, he rebooted and finally seemed to grasp Zettour’s intentions. “We’ll go! General, please, I beg you—please stay back!” he shouted.
For a man in Cramm’s position, his plea for Zettour to stay in the rear was an utterly natural reaction. But we won’t get anywhere that way…
Zettour needed to fulfill the condition of an elite from the General Staff standing on the front lines, no matter what. Even the chickens in B Group would hesitate to leave General von Zettour and order an excessive retreat.
“I think you’re misunderstanding something.” Upon looking into Cramm’s confused eyes, Zettour emitted a sigh. “Commander Cramm, you’re a newly appointed division commander; have you already forgotten? Seriously? Ever since the formation of the Imperial Army, it’s been expected that a commander lead his troops.” Zettour drove home his conclusion in an extremely even tone. “I may be the one asking things of you, but I’m also the one who proposed this plan. It’s called practicing what you preach. Leading the way is, of course, my right as well as my clear duty.”
It took only a moment for the bewildered major general to recompose himself, but in that time, Zettour had hopped into the car and begun checking his equipment.
“General, are you serious? You don’t have to do all that—we can…,” Cramm said reflexively.
Zettour responded with a sigh. “…Allow me to make one thing clear. I want to fix this misunderstanding.” He crinkled his eyes into a kind smile as if to say, Listen, Commander Cramm. He could understand that straitlaced field officers were wary of ruses. And he couldn’t claim he wasn’t going to be tricky.
But right now, he was just another officer in the field.
“You can think of it as a bluff if you like, but I—no, a General Staff officer—should be the one seizing this chance to envelop one of the enemy wings. Do you think I enjoy polishing chairs with my butt?”
“…General, the rescue is your objective, right?”
“Are you asking if I want to give B Group a kick in the pants? Of course I do.” Zettour continued, saying exactly what was on his mind, “Naturally, the rescue is at the forefront of my mind. Our target is the enemy field army. We’ll hit the enemy and save our friends. Nothing more, nothing less.”
There was nothing untrue about the simple words he said.
Personally, Zettour didn’t want to leave the troops to their fate. If he had a unit he could send to save them, then of course he would have started the rescue mission already.
“In exchange for that odd job, we’ll have to pay by being hated—just a tiny bit, yes, ever so slightly—by the eastern army staffers,” Zettour continued in a carefree tone like putting sugar in a teacup. That much essence was plenty. “It’s a clear rescue action that will merely wipe out the meddling Federation Army in one fell swoop, Commander Cramm. Fewer enemies, assisted allies. I should think that’s easy enough to understand. I can’t make it any simpler.” He smiled. “Gentlemen, we should fight and get muddy, too. I hardly think there are any fools here who are scared of a little dirt.”
Zettour declared the debate over and turned to his escort, Grantz. “Take the car out, Lieutenant Grantz. I’ll count on you to drive.”
“Yes, sir, if that’s your order. But, General, are you sure this one’s all right?”
“Why not?”
“It’s not even armored. As your escort, I’d prefer you rode in at least a light tank.”
He was right, but with apologies to Cramm, nodding emphatically next to him, Zettour couldn’t heed his advice. The point was to show off the fact that a general was exposed on the front line.
“No. Making requests carries no responsibility. To best announce my presence, I should put my life on the line. This sort of situation is the reason the word fair exists.”
“It’s too dangerous, General. At least allow our division to provide you with a vehicle…”
“Commander Cramm, tanks are too slow. In terms of speed, and only speed, this is the best option. We also have to get into position quickly. Use tank desant or whatever method you like—just get them sent in.”
“But the losses…”
“It’s not as if I’m telling you to have your troops ride on tanks right into enemy positions and get slaughtered. In order to get the troops deployed swiftly, let tanks be their feet. It’s a tight-knit joint operation of infantry and tanks.”
This was a lesson learned from Operation Iron Hammer.
Upon further study of the Federation Army operating formation and considering Degurechaff’s way of using troops, employing tanks as improvised transports was found to be unexpectedly effective in live combat.
“You mean they should disembark for combat when the enemy is spotted?”
“That’s right.”
“…I remember the report about how the Lergen Kampfgruppe did that.”
“Yes, during that airborne mission. Now it’s time to rapidly deploy infantry on tanks and attack the enemy’s flank. This is the sort of thing you can only do on the vast eastern front.” He nearly continued with a disclaimer but swallowed those words instead.
Tank desant, an enveloping attack, encircle and annihilate tactics. The combination of those three things was clear evidence of an overdependence on mobility.
The Imperial Army’s troops were spread extremely thin. They didn’t have the resources to consider any other tactical options.
“At any rate, our success depends on speed. Commander Cramm, advance as if you’re the main thrust of the entire army’s attack.”
“Yes, sir.”
“All right. We’ll advance as well. Oh, and send a repeated request to the other division commanders—not that I think there are any who would still hesitate at this point.”
THE SAME DAY, SOLDIM 528
The mind of a unit commander under siege is often torturous. Thus, adequate sleep is necessary to maintain mental health. Sleep is one of the mind’s best friends. It’s rare to find a person who hates sleep.
Which is why it’s a commander’s right to request not to be woken up except in case of emergency. Put another way, anytime I find Tanya being dragged o
ut of bed by her adjutant, First Lieutenant Serebryakov, there’s good cause to expect trouble.
Yet, here we are again.
“Sorry to wake you, Colonel. It’s an urgent message from high command!”
My adjutant has burst in to wake me up again. It’s not as if it’s Serebryakov’s fault, but when it happens this often, I’d like to express my discontent. Sadly, as a member of the military, I’m not permitted to sleep soundly when high command has an emergency.
“Urgent? Give it here.” Bracing herself for another unreasonable demand, Tanya reaches out for the telegram, but the concise text throws her. “From General von Zettour to the ‘Lergen Kampfgruppe’: ‘Colonel von Lergen,’ promptly begin the ‘designated’ actions. What does that mean? This is all of it?”
“Yes, that’s the whole message.”
If Serebryakov isn’t aware of anything else, then this is literally all of it.
The telegram doesn’t ring any bells, so Tanya thinks, Is this meant to confuse the enemy? Am I just taking a dummy message too seriously?
She wants to laugh it off and believe she is overthinking, but the terseness gives her pause.
It’s a message from allies outside the encirclement. If they are trying to tell her something and she misses it, the best-case scenario is that she gets laughed at. But in the worst case, the unit might even be abandoned.
“What are the designated actions?”
Is it some kind of metaphor? Or just a bluff to throw the enemy off the trail? But “designated” actions…
“…Hmm?”
“Lergen Kampfgruppe,” “Colonel von Lergen,” “designated actions”?
Looking at the parts in quotes, she notices that “Lergen Kampfgruppe” and “Colonel von Lergen” are outward-facing labels. So does that mean “designated” is the same?
In other words…maybe the thing to do is consider the message with those parts removed.
“Promptly take action…? …Action.”
When Tanya murmurs it softly, something bothers her.
Action, in the end, is assertive spontaneity.
In Imperial Army staff officer education, you get it pounded into your head countless times that an officer’s role is to carry out the mission they’re given and to obey not the letter of the order but its intent.
“Intent? …The issue is the intent. What is this order really trying to say?”
That is, what is Lieutenant General von Zettour determined to do? The important thing is her superior’s intention. And Tanya isn’t the type who can ignore her superior’s decision.
If the boss says white, then everything black in the company is also white. In the most blackened, corrupt cases that won’t be able to escape the law, there’s no choice but to jump ship. That said, Zettour seems all right, so he scores points there.
Tanya’s mind is self-conscious in the manner of a good, modern citizen—she values laws. If she gets an unreasonable order that impinges on her free will, she’ll be forced to confront a grave conflict. Lucky for her, the General Staff is admirably law-abiding.
If anything, there have been plenty of orders she didn’t want to carry out, but they were all reasonable.
That’s worlds apart from the evil of Being X, who thrusts things upon me without considering my free will. Honestly, that’s the problem with the devil’s kin. No, given how Being X failed to properly explain the terms of the contract, the devil might actually be a more honest guy.
If God can’t crack down on this interloper’s rampage, he must be dead. As long as God is dead, all I can do is use my modern mind to defend myself from evil in accordance with the laws of nature.
How harsh this world can be.
No. Tanya shakes her head and brings her thoughts back to the present.
She has to deduce what Zettour might be thinking using a thought experiment.
“What would I do in this situation if I were the general?”
A revolving door, decapitation tactics… He’s an expert with an exhaustive knowledge of logistics, so let’s factor in his career thus far.
His personality almost certainly rules out passively waiting with no plan. Is he attached to seizing the initiative independently? Wait, but then you could say he would favor an aggressive breakthrough action.
“Assertiveness? …Is that what ‘promptly’ is supposed to indicate?” Tanya raises her head and looks up at the ceiling subconsciously. That’s certainly a possibility, or rather, she could see it being true. Zettour may not always look it, but he has a fairly radical side to him.
It appears that the higher-ups want me to take prompt action. If a staff officer is being asked to act, then…?
It can only be an order to begin an operation and choose the optimal action.
The duty is always the same. Use your brain to help yourself somehow. That is, I need to come up with a way to break out of this situation.
The situation? It’s the agony of being surrounded.
A light burns in her mind.
In that case, the answer is simple.
It’s difficult to accept so abruptly, but it just might work.
“An operation to break the siege. I can’t believe it—General von Zettour intends to make an aggressive move, even under these circumstances!”
Once Tanya realizes her superior is planning a maneuver battle, she has no doubt what her role is.
If he’s expecting her to fulfill her duty as a staff officer, then this is the moment.
“We’ll act in concert with the rest of the troops!”
Having made up her mind, Tanya both promptly and swiftly announces their next move. “We’re clearing out! Round up all the unit leaders! On the double!”
“Colonel, will you reply to the telegram?”
Oh. Tanya realizes she is forgetting herself. She was getting so excited that she forgot a simple truth.
Hard work, attentiveness, and success.
The golden rule of being a productive member of an organization is truly simple yet deep.
“You’re so attentive, Lieutenant Serebryakov! You’re exactly right. I have to reply to General von Zettour’s love letter, or I’ll be derided as an officer with no honor!”
Okay. Tanya orders an equally concise message in reply.
“From the commander of the Lergen Kampfgruppe to ‘General von Zettour’: ‘Colonel von Lergen’ will promptly begin the ‘designated’ actions. That is all!”
Not long after…
The message was delivered by magic officer to the car Lieutenant General von Zettour had single-handedly designated as the forward command post.
“Telegram, General. It’s a confirmation from Colonel von Lergen.”
“Let me see the text.”
“Yes, sir, here it is.”
First Lieutenant Grantz had received the message with his orb and written it out for the general. After one glance, Zettour gave a short nod. “From the commander of the Lergen Kampfgruppe to ‘General von Zettour’: ‘Colonel von Lergen’ will promptly begin the ‘designated’ actions? This is…fantastic.”
The text he received was wonderfully simple.
Clear and concise.
If she didn’t grasp my intentions, she wouldn’t have been able to reply in such a simple format… That was the moment he knew his thoughts had reached her.
“Everything’s going according to plan. This is good news, Lieutenant Grantz. The Lergen Kampfgruppe is ready to coordinate with our operation here. Now we’ll be able to pincer the enemy.”
“So…” Grantz seemed to have grasped something. He cautiously inquired, “…General, does that mean you and Colonel von Degurechaff set up a plan in advance?”
“No, not at all.”
“Huh? But then, this reply…”
“Lieutenant Grantz, that’s just the kind of creature a staff officer is.”
The young magic officer didn’t quite seem to get it, and Zettour patted him on the shoulder with a wry inward smile. Is it because I
hold my subordinates to too high of a standard that I feel he’s lacking when he can’t immediately comprehend things?
“Remember this, Lieutenant: No one who fails to understand the necessary matters at the necessary time can be called a real staff officer.”
A group of officers who build a shared understanding of what must be done based on shared foundations—that’s the secret to the instrument of violence known as the Imperial Army functioning at the greatest possible efficiency. No, it isn’t even a secret.
Everyone knows it. Even children know that staff officers are the essence of the Empire. They just don’t know what that means.
“I hear some people call Colonel von Degurechaff a monster. But if you ask me, she’s a fine staff officer.”
The strengths of a staff officer…
They lie in decision-making skills but also the ability to sense when to act. Plus, the flexibility of understanding an ally’s intentions, or the objective of an offensive, and making autonomous judgments.
A coordinated conjugate of officers who grasp the intent of their orders and can act on their own discretion is exceedingly efficient.
There may be multiple heads, but they think with one brain. All in one and one in all: That is the ideal of the General Staff, the heart of staff officer education, and the fundamental principle of field battle.
“What I mean to say is she’s correct.”
Given an ideal environment, staff officers are expected to all arrive at the same judgment. With a mutual understanding of what the ultimate aim is, they individually set an objective with an eye on the greater goal and act on their own discretion; the result is organic synchronization and coordination.
The magic officer Degurechaff is a truly exceptional fighter. But more than that, she has vividly proven herself as an excellent staff officer. It’s just so delightful.
“Ha-ha-ha! Now that we’ve come this far, we can finally say we’re having fun!”
Previously, he had felt a slight pain about using a child for war, but having come this far, he felt a thrill more than hesitation or pangs of conscience.