Chapter 60
Chapter 60
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 60
Chapter Title: What is War? (1)
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Imperial Staff College.
This graduate school, a mandatory stepping stone for officers who have graduated from the academy and gained combat experience on their way to earning their stars, was in a word, a battlefield.
Of course, there were no actual knife fights or murders among students like in some vision of hell or the demon realm.
It was a place of cutthroat academic competition on a massive scale, where just as many dreams and talents were crushed.
To even get here meant you were in the top 5% of academy graduates—elite among elites.
Yet every year, 10 to 20% dropped out midway or graduated with just a certificate because they couldn't master the required military knowledge.
On the flip side, this was a gathering of geniuses among geniuses, so mediocre professors sometimes found their theories dismantled by students.
Of course, Staff College professors were elites among elites—the kind that made your wallet scream—so it happened maybe once a decade.
That was how terrifying this school was.
Lost in such random thoughts, I soon found myself at the door of the lecture hall where the students waited.
Even back in high school or giving presentations at the academy, my heart had raced—but now I had to teach dozens of them at once.
I was tense, no doubt about it.
Still, the lesson I'd prepared was a distillation of what I'd proven in real combat. It would land well.
"Alright, time to step into the real lecture hall."
As I opened the door and entered, all eyes snapped to me.
But their attention wasn't respectful admiration for their professor—it was the analytical stare of rivals sizing up the competition.
"He looks tough. How old is he? Twenty-three, twenty-four maybe?"
"Ha... I passed the first-round promotion review ahead of my whole class to get here, and still, this is the Staff College for you. Every kind of person shows up."
"Can't lose to some young punk like that."
Considering the students in this class were at least twenty-five, with some majors pushing past thirty-five, it was only natural.
In this era, newspapers and textbooks used metal type, but printing tech hadn't advanced to include facial portraits, so of course they didn't recognize me.
But their expressions changed drastically once they spotted the medals on my uniform and the insignia marking my rank.
If their earlier reaction had been toward a rival, now it was pure shock, like they'd seen a monster.
"My dad, the director at Staff HQ, told me Major Jaeger was coming as a professor and to pay close attention—this must be the class."
"Insane. Double recipient of the Silver Knight's Sword Cross."
"A guy who was already a lieutenant colonel with a barony at the age I just got promoted from sergeant to lieutenant... teaching us. What kind of lesson is this gonna be?"
I pretended not to notice their whispers, so they probably thought I hadn't heard. But I had—crystal clear.
Still, for these guys younger than their professor—me—to show awe at the historical fact of the Staff College's youngest-ever instructor, backed by all those medals and achievements...
There'd been a time when people dismissed and belittled me before I could even act. But the higher I climbed with real accomplishments, the more praise and admiration followed.
It was utterly blissful, intoxicating.
Basking in their gazes, I ascended the podium and addressed the green officers in a stern voice.
"I assume you've heard the rumors about me. By order of His Imperial Majesty the Emperor, I am Lieutenant Colonel Peter Jaeger, Baron, assigned as professor this semester. Starting today, I'll be teaching 'What is War?' You will submit and be evaluated on three strategic papers simulating wartime scenarios, combining exams and assignments."
No professors back home talked like that, but this was the military. Better to run it this way.
Most classes here were top-down lectures, professors drilling knowledge into students. I didn't want that.
I wrote "What is War?" on the blackboard and demanded answers from the students.
"Winning battles against the enemy and achieving victory."
"Killing as many enemy soldiers as possible while preserving our own troops."
"Shedding blood to repel His Imperial Majesty's foes and claim glory."
They weren't wrong.
War was forcing concessions from the enemy—territory, reparations, diplomatic yields—like a thug shaking down a mark—through battlefield victories.
Defeating the enemy army was crucial, as they said, but didn't it fall short as a unified definition of strategy, tactics, and politics?
Back at the academy, I'd bombed decorum, etiquette, and martial arts—fields I had zero talent in—so to avoid flunking, I'd poured everything into strategy and military science.
I knew exactly where their answers fell short.
"Everything you said is correct. But my view is a bit different."
Students who even studied books in the field when they had downtime looked baffled.
What they'd said were just variations on the distilled theories hammered out by academy and Staff College faculty.
So hearing it challenged must have floored them.
But Laura, seated front row, watched me with eager eyes full of anticipation. Every time I'd discussed strategy and tactics, I'd presented theories wildly different from her academy textbooks—and proven them right.
"That's the view from commanding a company as a junior officer, following senior orders. Senior officers and commanders need a broader vista. Winning fights alone won't win wars."
I took a breath and declared:
"War crushes the enemy's combat capability, seizes the territory sustaining their forces, and strips their will to fight. Keep these three principles in mind when crafting strategy, and you'll secure victories worth having."
The Reich Empire, my current affiliation, waged war focused on attriting enemy troops and grabbing land.
We weren't researching tactics to shatter their will to fight entirely.
Not that I planned to step up with some Hitler-style genocide like "Let's start by massacring enemy civilians."
Massacres violated human decency, bolstered enemy resolve,
and mostly just created enemies out of thin air.
I wrote on the blackboard: "The Purpose of War?"
"Simple. It's to force the enemy—after we've beaten them in battle—to do what they don't want. Like ceding territory or paying massive reparations. Or signing economically crippling treaties."
Of course, push too far, and you get a World War II redux.
Precisely: nations like France, Britain, Italy, and America, bled dry in the Great War, stripped Germany of territory and colonies,
and demanded 132 billion marks in reparations. That, piled on hyperinflation and the Great Depression, gave a lunatic named Adolf Hitler his stage.
"Thus, war is one tool of diplomacy and politics, paid for in soldiers' blood. Staff officers and commanders decide how to wield it efficiently—that's strategy."
Logistics optimization, deploying new weapons to train effective troops faster, tactics for victory—all fall under it.
I kept filling the blackboard with what I'd said.
"Alright, ten-minute break, then we'll continue."