Chapter 27
Chapter 27
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 27
Chapter Title: Battalion Formation (1)
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A new order had come down from Staff Headquarters.
"We'll give you budget and authority, so try forming a battalion your way."
I'd thought I'd be sent to Staff Headquarters or the Staff College...
"Form a brand-new battalion and do whatever you want, huh."
Those words hid a deeper meaning.
We're backing you this much, so you'd better deliver results to match.
If they'd set specific goals first, I might've understood.
But no success criteria, no failure lines—just "form a battalion." My head was already starting to throb.
"How the hell am I supposed to do this."
"Don't we have about half a year until the battalion formation is complete? Why not spend the first month mulling over how to train them."
"Lieutenant Lina—no, wait..."
I'd racked up massive achievements in the war but hadn't gotten promoted.
Promoted to major in my first year of service, so they probably couldn't push me any faster.
I got it—organizations have hierarchies and order.
The Imperial Army wasn't some Nazi Germany outfit handing companies to lieutenants and brigades to majors...
Still kinda stings.
But Lina had made her promotion this time.
"First Lieutenant Lina."
She puffed out her chest at my words.
My instincts signaled my gaze to zero in on those beautiful peaks.
I barely suppressed the urge.
"The battalion soldiers arrive tomorrow."
"...The documents with the officers' personnel records?"
"Right here."
Lina brought over the personnel files.
Officers' details were strict military secrets.
The box emphasized no one had peeked—the seals were intact.
Please, just some decent ones...
Even the Imperial Army could reform dropouts to a point with the right methods.
But fixing people wasn't easy.
Guys with rotten cores never changed.
I broke the seal and scanned the files.
"All the platoon leaders are fresh second lieutenants, first-year commissions. Normally, they'd send captains for each company's first platoon..."
"Staff Headquarters seems to want you to figure out how to make use of these hastily assigned officers."
"Makes sense—over 1,200 platoon leaders died in that rout against the Dolce Republic."
Junior officers, especially platoon leaders, had higher casualty rates than enlisted.
Five privates dead? Seven or eight platoon leaders gone. Common.
Platoon leaders commanded maybe 30 men and led from the front as examples.
Real history showed the same—WWII lieutenants died more than infantry.
"Last year's academy intake was 1.5 times the year before, right?"
"Yes, sir."
"That explains it."
Not incomprehensible, but daunting as hell.
"Heard a bunch of NCOs got academy slots because of the shortage too."
"At least our battalion has no problem officers."
"That's a relief."
"One thing that bugs me—a viscount's son. Eh, titles don't mean much in the army."
Those types served politely to captain then vanished.
Not under me, though...
"Staff Headquarters wants two things from me."
I held up two fingers.
"One: Maximize the battalion's combat power."
Folded one down.
"Two: Develop training that boosts frontline effectiveness now, and build efficient unit management systems."
Folded the last one.
Neither was easy.
"Like last time, gonna stick a wooden rod out and show discipline's no joke?"
"Not a bad idea. But it won't satisfy Staff Headquarters alone."
Last time, I'd moved one stick for huge rewards, proving iron discipline.
Other battalions, regiments, divisions, corps did the same.
Everyone did it—repeating would be overkill.
Moderation in all things.
"Stick to law, principles, boost morale. Introduce new training too."
Honestly, no clue what training to add.
But not impossible.
Over 500 soldiers formed up at once.
I looked down at them from the podium.
500 men moving under my command.
Not my first day as battalion commander, but scanning my troops like this...
Heart still raced.
"Attention."
They snapped to parade rest.
Young officers' gazes burned hottest.
Aspiring to the war hero their age who'd climbed to battalion command.
Or rivalry?
"No long speeches. First off, His Majesty the Emperor and Staff Headquarters have high hopes for our battalion."
Not directly from the emperor—he probably didn't know jack—but...
Pre-modern armies revolved around the emperor. Credit good stuff to him always.
"Thus, your battalion commander will give his all to honor His Majesty's grace and those expectations. I hope you'll follow quietly."
Typical commanders spout "follow for glory" or "for the nation."
Worked on emperor-brainwashed officers.
Not on soldiers or NCOs—no brainwashing there.
Hell, patriotism came from good pay and treatment first.
"Follow my orders, and regardless of rank, rewards will be generous."
Why do we suck up to toxic bosses or listen to debt-ridden managers babbling?
Money.
Low morale? I tried, but no pay, no leave.
Gotta give to get.
"Last war, my old battalion got fat rewards."
Some alien-torturing graphics card firm had staff pulling 7-day weeks.
Normal folk would've keeled over—hellish.
But they loved overtime.
Why? Salaries over 400 million, bonuses galore—half millionaires.
Spell out rewards, and they'd die for my words.
"My four company commanders and battalion ops officer got field promotions. 60% of other officers too. Over half the NCOs promoted, plus 2 to 5 million marks in bonuses."
The oldest-looking captain spoke up.
"That's real?"
"Yes."
"Serve under me, and you'll shed that late-captain sticker fast."
"I'll work hard, sir!"
"Excellent."
Then, devilish words to the troops.
"Enlisted all discharged or off to NCO school."
Troops' desires simple: Discharge ASAP or good jobs.
Officers ignoring that didn't deserve commissions.
Ah, most Imperial officers clueless.
Made sense—sharing meals with enlisted was punishable...
"Of 480 battalion enlisted, 130 deemed NCO material, now in commissioning training. Rest 350? I recommended discharge to division commander. Each got 300,000 marks settlement."
Faces brightened at "discharge."
"Follow your battalion commander's training well, and I'll gift faster discharges. That's all—dismissed."
At "dismissed," I swapped hats.
Red one.
"Enlisted and NCOs, barracks and rest. Officers, with me for fun training now."
Red hat and whistle.
Classic ranger instructor gear.
Wanted to drill with troops, but Imperial Army didn't mix officers and men.
Officers drilled by officers.
"You're owls from now on."
"...Sir?"
"Academy-fresh platoon leaders weaker than enlisted can't lead. Your battalion commander will toughen you thoroughly."
Issued the order.
"Ranger calisthenics. Follow your instructor's moves."
Gotta kill any slacking room for the newbies first.