The Finest Hour

by Carlo Zen

She picks up the internal communications device in the corner of her room and calls up battalion HQ.

  "Duty Officer Second Lieutenant Serebryakov speaking."

  "Lieutenant, it's me."

  "Oh, Major. What can I do for you?"

  With a slight sense of satisfaction that Serebryakov was quick enough to pick up in two rings, Tanya briefly states her business. "I'm going to pop in on the General Staff. While I get permission from HQ, please prepare our bags---yes, mine and yours. And get word to Lieutenant Weiss."

  "Understood. I believe he's currently on leave, but I'll let him know. Shall I reserve long-distance railway tickets?"

  "Oh, if he can't come here, you can just radio him. And we don't need tickets. I'm getting authorization to fly straight to the General Staff Office. Do, however, secure accommodations for us in the capital."

  Time is short, so we don't have the leisure to take it easy in a train. Tanya has already decided on cutting across the former Rhine lines and flying in directly.

  Luckily, perhaps it can be said, Type 97s will allow them to get to the capital with plenty of energy remaining. Regardless of how it would go if it were a combat flight, simply passing through friendly airspace should be plenty doable.

  "Understood, Major! How many days will you spend in the capital?"

  "Not many, but three for certain."

  She knows she has to take General von Zettour's schedule into consideration, so she's already resigned to the fact that this will be a time-consuming endeavor and figures it's best to overestimate the length of her stay.

  Of course, really, she doesn't want to be away from her post for long...but she's already decided that she'll wage a fierce battle of words in the capital if necessary.

  "Understood. Right away, ma'am."

  All right, then. Tanya gets her things together and packs her type I dress uniform. Then she turns in two flight plan approval forms, one for her and one for Serebryakov, as well as a plan assuming a direct flight, and receives authorization almost immediately.

  Meanwhile, Visha had received the orders and was making her preparations for their trip to the capital just as briskly, not about to let Tanya outdo her.

  She contacted the magic officers' club and reserved two rooms. Then, using her status as the adjutant of the commander of a battalion reporting directly to the General Staff, she secured the use of one official car from the General Staff's rear section.

  Times like these it really hit her. The 203rd really gets a lot of respect for being directly under the General Staff. Usually the higher-ups hate doing anything over the phone where they can't see your face, but even a young officer like me calls and the staff in the rear generously consents.

  "So instead of the beach I'm on leave in the capital...? Well, it's not so bad. Maybe I'll get to see some old faces."

  Which is why, for just a moment, she thought maybe she should be able to enjoy her vacation as well. If I can make time, maybe I'll be able to talk to friends in person instead of updating them in letters.

  Of course, she would only do that after quickly accomplishing the things she needed to do. So Visha proceeded to take care of those tasks in an orderly way. Lodgings were arranged; transportation was locked down. The report for the incoming duty officer she put with the battalion logbook and the report of her activities. Lieutenant Weiss would be able to glean all he needed to from a single read through.

  Major von Degurechaff told her that she understood Lieutenant Weiss was on break, so all Visha had to do was contact him and her part was done.

  "Excuse me, this is Second Lieutenant Serebryakov. May I speak with First Lieutenant Weiss?"

  Okay. She called the vacation facility number she was given "just in case" via long-distance telephone and asked for Lieutenant Weiss.

  "This is First Lieutenant Weiss."

  "Lieutenant, this is Second Lieutenant Serebryakov. So sorry to call you while you're on leave."

  And because he was on vacation, Visha had intended to say only the minimum: Please contact the major.

  "Oh, Visha. Are you calling to cry to me that you wish you were at the beach, too? We're having a grand old time."

  Yes, it was unexpected.

  Usually, Lieutenant Weiss was more composed and thoughtful, but this time he was drunk and slipped up, and what he said made Visha just a little bit mad.

  Up until that moment, her thoughts on the matter had been, Well, of course I'd like to go with everyone, but if the second-in-command is out and my superior the major is staying behind, then as her adjutant I have to serve as duty officer.

  But things didn't play out that way.

  "...No, I have a message for you. The major has some business at the General Staff Office, so we're leaving for three or four days."

  So Visha was true to her miffed feelings. Taking advantage of his slip, she matter-of-factly stated the truth.

  "So you're letting me know so I can take over?"

  "Yes, I was to inform you."

  That was everything Major von Degurechaff had told her. We're going to the capital, so contact Lieutenant Weiss to let him know. Since that was her assigned duty, she was telling the truth.

  "...I guess now that you told me that, I should go back and talk to the major, huh?"

  "As you like. I've delivered the necessary message, so I don't presume to have anything else to say on the matter."

  Sadly, that was the unadorned truth. Sticking her tongue out in her mind, Visha took a bit of revenge.

  The major had told her not to force him to come. Put another way, she didn't say clearly to have him come or not come, and guessing what she meant was not part of Visha's job. Of course, given their superior's utilitarian mind-set, Visha personally felt that over the phone was good enough.

  But she had no obligation to say as much to him.

  "Got it, Lieutenant. Yeah, I should talk to the major directly about this. Okay, Lieutenant Grantz! The rest is up to you! As for me, I've received an invitation from a beautiful lady!"

  So when Lieutenant Weiss, seeming to have decided on his own what needed to be done, left everything else to Lieutenant Grantz in a voice more cheerful than he ever used, Visha couldn't help but laugh.

  "Yes, sir, Lieutenant! Don't worry about a thing! Every last one of us will stand our ground against this formidable enemy and fight through!"

  Then, imagining the scene on the other end of the line, something occurred to Visha. Lieutenant Weiss is probably actually drunk and not thinking up to his usual speed...

  "Aww, shit! I'm so lucky to have a report like you!"

  "Lieutenant! If you're going to meet a lady, I'd sober up first!"

  "Hey! All you all better have hangovers tomorrow!"

  Having left them with that, he grabbed a ride to the base and sobered up on the way. When he arrived, he changed out of his civilian clothing and promptly went to battalion HQ.

  If his superior was going to the General Staff Office now, maybe something was happening. If anything, it could be related to her attempt to act independently that nearly violated the cease-fire. The possibility might have caused him to overthink it.

  Hoping his breath didn't stink of booze, he entered the room and announced himself. "First Lieutenant Weiss reporting in." The first thing he saw was Major von Degurechaff and Lieutenant Serebryakov with their flying goggles on and their luggage ready.

  "Oh, Lieutenant. Good timing. The situation is a bit of a mess. It seems like the staffers are so excited they're not even thinking about how to end the war. There's nothing else I can do but go over there personally. It'll only be a few days, but take care of things here while I'm gone."

  "Understood."

  He would be in charge while she was away.

  That was exactly the same as what he had already heard on the phone. So now she must have something important to tell me. He braced himself and devoted his entire being to hearing the words she would say next.

  "I did call you, but I knew you were on your v
acation. I didn't think you'd come all the way here when a phone call would have sufficed. You were probably thinking of me, but I'm sorry I interrupted your party, Lieutenant."

  For a moment, his superior's nonchalant tone had Weiss at a loss. He had been convinced there would be something important he would need to hear in person, but it turned out she was simply getting in touch about being away.

  ...And that was when he finally realized he'd been putting in way too much effort and running around for no reason.

  "Oh, uh, no. It's no big deal."

  He was confused until he carefully remembered the earlier conversation and realized just what "As you like" meant when he had asked if he should return or not.

  "Hmm? What is it, Lieutenant Serebryakov?"

  "Oh, I'm just impressed by Lieutenant Weiss's kindness and attention to detail."

  After all, Major von Degurechaff wasn't the type of officer to give vague directions. Weiss should have understood the moment Serebryakov said, "As you like."

  He regretted being under the influence while receiving a message. If his head had been clear, he probably would have been able to catch Serebryakov's drift, even over the phone.

  Well, I was on vacation...but I guess I should be ready to be called up at any time, even on leave, he thought and then added, I probably shouldn't have made that remark, either.

  Well, the unfortunate truth was that for Weiss and other imperial soldiers, "wartime leave" usually amounted to medical treatment in the rear or being off duty in the trenches, so he had been enjoying his first real vacation.

  "Yes, he's a model communicator. Well, we'll be off. Take it easy while I'm gone. Drilling just enough to maintain discipline is fine."

  "Understood. Have a safe trip, Major."

  "Will do, thanks, and sorry again."

  "...Hello, I'm Major von Degurechaff. Please get me General von Zettour; it's urgent."

  "Oh, Major, I'm terribly sorry, but the general is currently out."

  Hmm, that doesn't happen very often, thinks Tanya, but she figures if he's busy with military affairs, it can't be helped. She adjusts her expectations and tries again. "Then, sorry, may I see General von Rudersdorf?"

  She says it simply, expecting to just see General von Zettour's friend first, but she gathers immediately from the troubled look on the staffer's face that this request is also impossible. She asks with her eyes what it could possibly mean.

  "You'll have to excuse me, Major von Degurechaff, but, well, everyone from the General Staff Office is out..."

  Tanya had braced herself for some reluctance to reply, but the duty officer revealed the issue with unexpected readiness.

  "I see. And where might they be?"

  But actually, the answer came so readily that all she feels is a sense that something is amiss. After all, she's certain that the General Staff officers are terribly busy at all times. And she knows from experience that she can drop in unannounced if something is critical and get them to look at it.

  That adaptability, that flexibility, is the Imperial Army General Staff's strength, and it only works because of the close contact between the officers directing the operations.

  Which is why Tanya can't believe it.

  Even when she is informed that the office is practically empty, she doesn't quite get it.

  So compelled by necessity, she comes up with a reason. For example, maybe their attendance was required at some big function at court. Or maybe they had to show up for some occasion, a party or whatnot. That is her naive expectation.

  That straitlaced bunch would never leave the General Staff Office empty at such a critical juncture for no reason.

  "...I think they're at the beer hall."

  "The beer hall?"

  Which is why all she can do at that moment is parrot the words back at the duty officer.

  What did he just say to me?

  Beer hall?

  What's a beer hall?

  Beer hall.

  It's a place for drinking alcohol.

  So what need can there possibly be for the entire General Staff to go there all at once?

  "Yes, they were shouting about drinking to celebrate our victory. I wanted to go, too, but you know how it is."

  "Yes, thanks for your service. If you'll excuse me, then."

  Hearing this reply, she is forced to devote nearly her entire being to maintaining her blank expression and nodding.

  "All right, Major. Good night."

  After receiving an easygoing send-off from the duty officer, Tanya burrows grimly into bed.

  The next day, the staff officers, having drunk like fish for the first time in quite a while, are also nursing their first hangovers. It's been so long it's almost nostalgic competing to see who can feign normalcy most skillfully, until into the General Staff Office marches the fierce Major Tanya von Degurechaff.

  "General, excuse me, but..."

  She has resolved to speak directly to General von Zettour, at the center of the General Staff, and find out the whole story.

  "Oh, Major. I heard about the fleet. And the base commander's gripes. But my conclusion is that both of you erred in the course of your duties."

  But what the hell is this now?

  "As long as you are both correct, it's only a matter of reprimanding the pair of you to exercise more self-control. That said, Major, it seems you went a bit far this time."

  The answer she is given misses the mark so completely she finds herself glaring at him, despite realizing it's rude. What the hell is wrong with all my superior officers?

  "What? Don't worry, Major."

  But he continues to astound her.

  "We beat the pants off them. No one's going to get upset at you now that the end of the war is near."

  But she freezes at the sound of "the end of the war." Those words can cause so much damage. Apparently, Tanya is the only one who knows. It won't happen.

  Then, having trouble holding her expression steady, she averts her eyes to the window and realizes she was wrong.

  The staffers going to and fro in the office look so ecstatic. Catching them out of the corner of her eye, she's racked with grief. They're all so excited about the great victory.

  They're all savoring the taste of their triumph on the Rhine front and the capture of Parisii. Swept up in a euphoria, they are living in a moment so happy they went to the beer hall to let themselves go for once.

  Ahh. It dawns on Tanya.

  Major General von Zettour is an outstanding officer on both the political and military fronts. On top of that, he's a pragmatist who sees things objectively and, when necessary, as numbers or statistics.

  Even he is drunk on sweet victory.

  ...Probably he convinced himself of the victory with his logical prowess.

  He probably thought that any further fighting would not only be useless to the Republic but harmful. And if waging war no longer benefited them, then the war would surely end.

  ...General von Zettour must not understand that the Republicans will continue to resist with no regard for odds, rationale, or profit and loss.

  But in the next moment, Tanya wonders objectively if maybe she has only lost hope because she knows the outcome of being Dunkirked.

  The remnants they let escape are seeds of resistance, so to speak. Some will fail. Some can be stamped out under the Imperial Army's boots, while others can be plucked out by air force attacks.

  Many of them won't have the moisture of the people and will thus dry out completely, unable to produce a resistance bud. But if those seeds are sown in the soft soil of a colony, eventually they will bear fruit capable of launching a counteroffensive. That is a real threat.

  But even with that in mind, objectively speaking, the current situation is one of great victory. Anyone would agree that the Empire won.

  Despite the Commonwealth's intervention and ultimatum, the Empire performed this amazing feat in no time.

  The Republic was slain in the blink of an eye, the Entente
Alliance is being brought under imperial military government, and the governance of Dacia is proceeding apace. The world can only watch transfixed. The Empire's victory, its glory, is genuine in this moment.

  That's why, thinks Tanya darkly, seeing the point of divergence between the truth that she knows and the conclusion reached by logic in reality.

  The attitude she's getting from General von Zettour---that, thinking rationally, this is where we end the war---is correct. After all, the Empire succeeded in annihilating the Republican main forces. It's a triumph that will surely be remembered in military history. The Empire achieved an overwhelming victory in the field and has only a very few things to worry about.

  Victory, oh, how spellbinding you are. The Empire has earned the right to be drunk on your sweet wine.

  "I'm relieved to hear that, sir. I only hope there will be a chance to make up for the trouble I caused."

  "That's fine. Then to victory."

  "To victory."

  She suppresses her emotions with sheer self-restraint, exchanges salutes, and maintains proper manners as she exits the room.

  But even Magic Major Tanya von Degurechaff is human. So when Lieutenant Colonel von Lergen passes by her on his way to get General von Zettour's approval on some documents, he notices that her expression is more warped than he has ever seen it before.

  "Excuse me, sir... Did something happen? Major von Degurechaff had a strange look on her face just now."

  He hesitates to say it looked like a tearful grimace befitting a girl of her age. After all, the dark expression belonged to Major von Degurechaff. That could be worth worrying about.

  "Oh, Colonel von Lergen. What do you mean, 'strange'?"

  "Well, it just seemed to me that for a moment she looked awfully grim..."

  "Hmm? Oh no. Perhaps she had some advice for me."

  So Zettour would never learn the truth---that she looked like she was about to cry from hopelessness.

  Though he sensed that something had been left unsaid, even Zettour didn't intuit that she gave up in resignation.

  "Shall I call her back?"

  "No, I'll talk to her the next chance I get."

  He decides to wait for her to come to him again and turns to the countless papers he needs to approve. After all, he is the deputy director of the Service Corps, so he has a mountain of important work to do.