Chapter 67
Chapter 67
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 67
Chapter Title: Army Reform (3)
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Corporal Hermann of the 1st Platoon, 1st Company, couldn't quite wrap his head around the absurd reality before him.
"The guy I thought was a fresh recruit turns out to be the battalion commander? And a war hero with the Golden Eagle Medal to boot... Fortuna preserve us."
Hermann recalled the idiotic things he'd done just yesterday.
He'd beaten the hell out of the new recruit—who was actually the battalion commander—raining down every insult imaginable.
He'd even said he was jealous because his parents had died early, sparing him the burden of supporting them, and suggested that since he probably had no luck with women, maybe he should offer his body to the guys instead...
In the unique pressure cooker of army life, he'd unleashed every abuse a senior could muster...
'And that guy was a noble?'
Just thinking about it made his hands and feet tremble uncontrollably.
The battalion commander could legally ruin the lives of every soldier in this platoon if he wanted...
Just like Corporal Victor over there, groaning face-down on the ground.
"Ugh... ugh..."
As Hermann stewed in worry, another corporal approached.
"Corporal Hermann."
"Elias, I'm not in the mood right now. Don't talk to me..."
"What are we gonna do now? We're totally screwed."
A heavy sigh escaped Hermann's lips.
This was a man who could kill them using all sorts of shady tricks.
Make up excuses for corporal punishment, then claim it was an "accident during execution."
And they'd showered him with contempt, mockery, and beatings...
Even recalling it filled him with dread; he had no idea how they could possibly survive.
"I don't know. We're all dead. Corporal Victor over there got pummeled half to death by the battalion commander himself— what makes you think we won't end up the same?"
"......No guarantee."
"All we can do is try our hardest not to piss off the battalion commander."
They say even in a lion's den, keep your wits and you'll survive...
But in a den full of lions, staying sharp doesn't guarantee anything.
Still, it was a million times better than completely losing your head.
Hermann raised his voice loud enough for everyone in the barracks to hear.
"Attention, all!"
At the second-in-command's order, everyone snapped to attention.
"If we get on the battalion commander's bad side, I'm dead and so are you. So from now on, no more beatings or bullshit. Train like your life depends on it—work like it too."
"Yes, sir!"
"I'm not kidding. If the battalion commander decides..."
Hermann's gaze drifted to Victor, beaten bloody with a whip.
"I won't slack off, and neither will you. If the company commander, platoon leader, supply sergeant, or platoon sergeant catches us slacking even a little... who knows what'll happen."
Just imagining it was terrifying.
For their own sake, but the deputy battalion commander was already socially finished by the battalion commander's hand.
The officers wouldn't sit idly by after seeing that.
They'd surely grind them even harder just to survive.
"Dismissed. From tomorrow, live like you're already dead."
Everything unfolded exactly as Hermann had predicted.
The platoon leader and platoon sergeant hounded the soldiers mercilessly.
"You idiots! Is that all the volume you've got? Hermann, you slacking just 'cause you've got four months left?"
"No, sir!"
"If I catch heat from the battalion commander because of you, I'll cut your damn leave!"
"Sorry, sir!"
Normally, they'd go easy on corporals during training.
Just supervise the privates' work, turn a blind eye to half-assed shoveling.
During marches, let them fill packs with light wooden boxes and pretend not to notice...
They'd cut plenty of slack before, but now? No mercy.
"Load and ready!"
"Argh!! Loading!"
The shouts echoed several times louder than usual training.
Everyone was tense, knowing a mark from the battalion commander meant death.
"Hands up where I can see 'em!"
"Anyone slower than me on reloads today gets to do this crap during personal maintenance time too."
Officers and NCOs alike threw themselves into training with mortal resolve.
Officers knew the battalion commander could dredge up old corruption scandals and ship them to military court, ending their careers anytime.
NCOs faced literal nooses, not just ruined lives.
And the battalion commander watched it all.
"......Once loaded, 1st rank—fire on command."
"Fire!"
Modern armies mandate hundreds of rounds per soldier annually to conserve ammo.
But in the Empire, gunpowder was damn expensive.
Practical limits meant they loaded sand instead—same weight as powder.
"1st rank—fire!"
Hermann aimed at imaginary foes, tense as hell, and pulled the trigger.
This is bullshit, he thought.
This drill alone was the 100th time today.
He'd take work over this any day.
No—until two days ago, work was boring but not grueling. The thought made his head spin.
"Ranks clear? 2nd rank forward, 1st rank—about face!"
"About face!"
"Louder on the repeat!"
"About face!"
"1st rank took 40 seconds from load to fire. That right?"
The 1st Company commander and 1st Platoon leader's faces twisted.
A chill ran down Hermann's spine.
"No, sir!"
"Cut it to under 30 seconds load-to-fire. About face again!"
"Yes, sir!"
Hermann wanted to cry for real.
He'd thought corporal stripes meant easier days.
Now the new CO was grinding them to dust.
'Is this for real?'
"Corporal, is this really how it's supposed to be?"
"Shut your trap and train! Wanna die?"
He got the rookie's grumbling, but he had no patience for it now.
And so the brutal training dragged on...
"Battalion—halt! At ease!"
Hermann sighed in relief.
Finally, a break.
"Training resumes after lunch."
The word "lunch" had never sounded so sweet.
More training after, sure—but rest first.
Uniforms soaked through with sweat from the frenzy.
No strength left in his body.
He missed his mom more than ever today.
Privates and PFCs teared up from exhaustion.
At the battalion commander's order, chow arrived.
But it looked way different from usual.
"......Corporal, we really allowed to eat this?"
Same menu as a few days ago.
But the quality? Night and day.
Rye bread—no stale whiff, double the portion.
Stew portions bigger, plenty of chunks despite the salted meat.
To Hermann, it was a feast.
"Battalion commander said he'd crack down on corruption, and look—food's first."
His view of the CO improved a notch.
He'd pegged him as a psycho obsessed with drilling and discipline.
But decent chow? Nice.
Beating hunger, cold, and misery was better than just cold misery by a million.
"This is good."
"This our usual slop?"
Bigger portions, but they wolfed it down.
Training exhaustion, sure—but better food too.
"Feels like it."
And training continued till evening muster-out.
Hermann and the troops were worked to utter exhaustion.
From dawn to 6 PM, minimal breaks, endless firing drills.
No energy left to haze rookies and vent boredom.
Half-dead himself—how haze anyone?
Even hazing took effort he didn't have.
Just wanted duty end to collapse.
"Today's training ends here. From 45 seconds load-to-fire down to 37? This battalion commander is impressed by your efforts."
Hermann's tension melted at those words.
"Disappointed" from that mouth meant death.
Praise instead? Whew.
'No heat from the brass tonight.'
"One soldier stood out especially. Corporal Hermann, 1st Platoon, 1st Company—front and center."
Hermann's mind blanked.
Me? A reward?
From the guy who grinds his men to death...?
"Corporal Hermann!"
"Loud and clear—good."
"Thank you, sir!"
"Corporals can get lax, but you stayed sharp and threw yourself into training. Thanks."
"Thank you, sir!"
Schumacher patted Hermann's shoulder himself.
"1st Platoon gets 150,000 marks for a group meal. Plus, 20,000 marks reward to Corporal Hermann."
......Division or regiment might reward after hellish training, but commanders giving personal rewards to enlisted? Rare.
To a single soldier? Unheard of.
Effort actually praised and paid?
Never dreamed.
But it felt damn good.
In hellish service, sole joy was weekend booze and meat fests.
"Thank you, sir!!"
"This battalion commander is a stickler for principle. Remember that."
The CO declared after the reward.
"Train hard, give your all on duty—you'll get rewarded. Slack off or abuse your position—you'll be punished. Understood?"
"Yes, sir!"
That day, from Hermann on down, the battalion's officers and men shifted to a positive view of their commander.