Chapter 8: First Battle (2)
Chapter 8: First Battle (2)
For about 30 seconds, the sound of a grand trumpet echoed everywhere. Afterward, soldiers adorned in magnificent armor stood on the battlefield from both our side and the enemy’s.
Then, the commanders of the Reich Empire and the Republic of Francois hurled insults at each other, bringing up each other’s nations, the commanders’ families, and even personal grudges.
As a person with modern sensibilities, I found it hard to understand why they would do this just before the start of a war.
However, at the Reich Empire Academy, they taught that this mutual blame game was beneficial for conducting war.
This was because soldiers who lacked patriotism and had nothing to gain from war had no reason to fight and were mostly concerned with just surviving and going home.
But if a commander insulted the enemy, it would create an illusion of superiority, boost morale, and reduce the soldiers’ fear of death when the enemy insulted back. This was the lesson.
Additionally, there was a belief that an enemy commander might lose his rationality due to anger. Though it was rare for the leader of an army to lose his composure over mere banter.
Regardless, the soldiers reacted far more vehemently to these low-level insults than I expected, compared to the fiery insults in Korea.
“Damn those Francois! Are they saying our stuff is only the size of a sausage from the Reich Empire?”
“Damn them to death! Just kill them all!”
“Didn’t they say that their commanders fight daily by grabbing each other’s collars? We’ll win easily.”
Yet, what you usually learn in theory and what you experience in practice differ in intensity.
If it were this effective, I, as a platoon leader, should introduce them to some Korean spirit-infused words.
In this world, like in medieval or early modern Europe, it was polite to act gentlemanly in front of women, but on the battlefield, it was seen as masculine to speak without restraint.
It was good to spit out words with force.
“Attention, Yaeger platoon! Those commanders and soldiers from the Republic of Francois think our stuff is like a sausage because that’s the only size they’ve ever seen. Shouldn’t we teach these barely functional men how real men fight in their final moments?”
Laughter erupted among the soldiers, and soon after, the sound of drums ordering a charge and raised flags were seen and heard.
“Now, if we fight as we’ve trained, we can win. Surely none of you are scared of the magic or arrows shot by these pitiful men who’ve nearly lost their manhood? Charge!”
With that, our battalion proudly and slowly walked towards the enemy from the very front.
The soldiers of the Republic of Francois began approaching at the same pace as us.
With every step I took, I felt overwhelmed by the intimidating aura that the tens of thousands of combined soldiers on the battlefield gave off.
In all honesty, I wanted to face the Francois troops and fight them even just a second earlier. I thought that if I ran recklessly on the front lines, perhaps it would put my heart at ease.
However, if I couldn’t discern when to go all out and when not to, I might end up powerless when it truly mattered.
Suppressing the fear and anxiety, I moved slowly, taking deep breaths. Just then, I saw arrows and magic spells flying between our side and the enemy’s.
If we didn’t pick up the pace, our troops would face more arrows and spells than the enemies before we even confronted them.
Seemingly sharing my thoughts, the company commander relayed his orders loudly through the flag and drum signals.
“More men will die from the arrows and magic than from being impaled on spears! Increase your pace! Double your march!”
It was human nature to feel more threatened by a densely packed line of spear soldiers than distant, less visible arrows.
For evidence, most people instinctively close their eyes when a fist or a baseball bat is swung at their face. But if someone shoots at you from afar, your instinct is to dodge rather than close your eyes.
From ancient times to modern warfare, ranged weapons have always caused the most casualties.
I once read in a Japanese war history book that there were two to three times more people killed by arrows and early firearms than by swords or spears.
That said, if we sprinted hundreds of meters to the enemy lines, we’d be exhausted. And if we confronted their spear soldiers, we’d be at a clear disadvantage. Was this really the best approach?
“Yaeger platoon, increase your pace as per the commander’s orders! If you don’t want to become a red, spiked pincushion from the arrows and magic, speed up! But don’t panic and run wildly!”
As we increased our pace, a massive wave of arrows, fire, and lightning-like spells bombarded both armies. It might have looked spectacular in a movie, but to those involved, it felt more like cosmic horror.
Soon after, the screams of soldiers hit by arrows and magic filled the air.
“Argh!”
“Mom! It hurts!! Save me!!”
Ignoring, or rather, pretending not to hear those cries–even possibly from our own comrades–there was no time to pay them any heed. The rain of arrows and magic was relentless.
After what felt like an eternity, we covered the 150 meters. When we got within about 50 meters of each other, both our mages and the enemy mages hurriedly stepped out with soldiers bearing large shields, forming protective barriers.
“The mages are aiming their spells at our squad! When their mages reach out with their staffs to cast, all crossbowmen, aim and fire at them! Our comrades’ lives are in your hands!”
The crossbowmen took their positions. Just as the enemy mages were about to unleash their magic upon us,
“Die, damned pretentious bastards!”
The arrows from our crossbowmen hit the enemy mages, while our mages created gaps in the enemy infantry formations.
Many enemy soldiers turned into charred corpses or were disfigured and killed by the flying debris. Witnessing this, the enemy soldiers’ morale plummeted.
“Yaeger platoon, engage with the enemy alongside me. Don’t be afraid. If we stick to our training, we can win easily! First row, prepare your spears! Charge!”
Our squad moved in perfect sync, just as we had practiced in the mock battles.
As we engaged, four enemy soldiers fell immediately in the first assault.
Was it because of our initial success against their mages and our effectiveness in spear combat? The trembling and tension I felt when first stepping onto the battlefield had vanished. I felt like I could take on anything.
Of course, that was just a thought. Overconfidence could be fatal.
I wouldn’t overstep my abilities or my unit’s. However, our coordinated unit seemed even more effective than I had thought, becoming the focal point of our company’s assault.
Checking through flag signals to see if we had reached our goal, the company commander replied,
“Keep up the good fight.”
Our momentum was unstoppable, and we decimated a significant number of enemy troops. Just then, the sound of drums signaled for a replacement from the reserve troops behind us.
It was a timely decision. If the vanguard remained too long on the frontline, exhaustion would set in, diminishing our combat effectiveness.
Being too greedy here might lead to a setback.
“First, the crossbowmen should shoot at the enemy’s spear soldiers. Then the first line, as when they first charged, should pull back their spears, and the second line will attack the enemy and then take a rest!”
By doing so, they managed to buy time to switch with the backup units, and all members of the 4th battalion were able to return to the rear to rest.
The entire battalion was divided into three groups: the major attack group, the rear guard, and the resting group. The group that led the vanguard was exempted from rear guard duty, giving them about 30 minutes of rest.
Starting with Sergeant Schmitz, the squad members might have bragged about their war stories or been sad about their fallen comrades. But they were so exhausted that they just lay on the ground, resting or quietly drinking water.
It seems they were too tired to do anything else.
I also wanted to lie down on the ground and rest like them. However, seeing that the enemy lines were surprisingly easy to penetrate, I thought of a possible strategy.
So I went to the battalion commander.
“Commander, I have thought of a good strategy. Would you consider it?”
It wasn’t exactly the best approach to suggest a strategy during the short break of a commander who had been fighting intensely for 15 minutes.
But if we’re fighting this hard, shouldn’t we strive a bit more, leaving a mark on our effort and getting an opportunity to be promoted?