Chapter 23
Chapter 23
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 23
Chapter Title: 3rd Guard Infantry Regiment 3rd Battalion (3)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
“With the mobility of cavalry, couldn't we bypass and break through the trenches?”
“The problem is the lack of fighting spirit among the frontline troops! We need to train them thoroughly in the offensive spirit...”
“...So breaching them is the issue. There's plenty of empty talk like this, but no real good ideas.”
“...”
Having heard it all, I silently nodded.
People's thoughts are surprisingly similar. The reactions of these officers who had just witnessed trench warfare for the first time weren't far off from those in history.
Already, talk reminiscent of the infamous Elan Vital was emerging...
Cavalry could surprisingly still be useful in this era over open terrain, but it was a means to bypass trenches, not breach them outright. Rejected.
“Do you have any good ideas?”
“An idea we can use right now... there's one.”
“Ooooh!”
“Ooo!”
The officers looked at me with faces full of eager anticipation at my words.
...It was burdensome.
Sensing my mood like a ghost, the battalion commander calmed the people around him.
“Quiet, everyone! Quiet! Let's hear it.”
“Stormtroopers.”
“Stormtroopers?”
Not the SS, the Nazi ones. In English, they're called Stormtroopers.
“An elite battalion composed for high firepower to excel in trench warfare.”
I quickly sketched out an organizational structure.
It was similar to the historical Stormtrooper battalion, but without flamethrowers yet, and slightly modified with additions from my knowledge.
I wrote down everything, rifles, machine guns, mortars, grenades, even considering all supply elements.
The officers tilted their heads curiously, but I handed it first to the battalion commander.
“Hmm, adjutant. Copy it to the blackboard.”
“Yes, sir.”
Manstein looked at the paper with sparkling eyes for a moment before slowly transcribing it onto the blackboard.
“Ooo...”
“Heh, this maximally utilizes mission-type tactics.”
Centered around the battalion HQ: three assault companies, with direct demolition and mortar squads under each assault company.
Plus a support company with battalion-level heavy weapons, engineers, supply, and medical platoons.
I had evolved it from the standard Stormtrooper battalion by increasing autonomy and on-site responsiveness of each unit, while enhancing sustained combat capability.
“Troop strength around 700 to 950 men, and due to the structure, it requires elite troops like ours to operate effectively.”
“I like it. It's a battalion hard for other competitors to imitate, isn't it?”
“They could make an elite battalion, but not with this kind of free-thinking structure. Especially, I designed the battalion HQ not just as a command post, but as the central hub for information.”
In particular, I modularized the previously independent companies and assigned heavy weapons directly to companies for immediate support.
'It would be even better with flamethrowers... I should patent those too.'
It was highly satisfactory from the perspective of a 21st-century general, but the 20th-century officers seemed to struggle understanding it.
The officers, who had been listening dubiously to my explanation, spoke up first.
“Why so much specialized equipment? How do we supply all this?”
“Good question. The support company handles basic logistics to some extent, but the true value of the Stormtrooper battalion shines in short-term operations, so I didn't delve too deeply into supplies.”
I stood up, took the chalk from Manstein, and went to the blackboard.
“The Stormtrooper battalion... let's simply call it 'Rommel Tactics' for short. It's conceptualized optimized for Rommel Tactics.”
A bit embarrassing, but no other tactical name came to mind, so I slapped my name on it.
Hiding my feelings, I spoke flatly.
“Rommel Tactics is a form of infiltration tactics, designed to break through trench warfare.”
“Ho... tell us more.”
Tak tak—the battalion commander’s eyes gleamed, so I wrote on the blackboard.
1. Identify the weakest trench and concentrate artillery like hurricane bombardment in a short time.
2. After primary bombardment, send in Stormtroopers. They infiltrate the enemy front wrecked by artillery, isolate defensive strongpoints, and hand them over to following heavy weapons infantry.
3. Stormtroopers keep advancing forward; remaining enemy units are left to follow-up main forces.
4. Expand gains and reorganize.
The sharp ones would realize I didn't invent this tactic.
Military history buffs would even recall the original name right away. That's right—this is the “Hutier Tactics.”
“Thus, since it's for short-term ops, supply priority for the Stormtrooper battalion is low.”
“Sigh, sounds plausible, but...”
“Wait, then what scale of preparatory bombardment is needed?”
It was a sharp question piercing to the heart.
“Assuming we're neutralizing a battalion... at minimum, we'd need division-level artillery support.”
“What? Division?”
“This is insane! The exchange ratio doesn't work! To hit the weakest battalion, you need division-scale bombardment and an elite battalion?”
The officers laughed in disbelief.
But I nodded silently and replied.
“That's trench warfare for you. But I guarantee this is one of the most efficient methods.”
“...”
“...”
The officers fell silent at my words.
They had no choice. They'd already tried many things before I arrived.
As I looked at the officers, the battalion commander, who had been silent, asked.
“...Is this the best way?”
“For our situation where we need to form a battalion immediately, yes. There are other methods, but isn't time pressing?”
“Hmm.”
The Stormtrooper battalion wasn't without downsides like heavy elite troop consumption, but we couldn't produce armored equipment right now either, so it was the best option.
As the battalion commander pondered, the officers remonstrated with him.
“It's too inefficient. Who couldn't breach trenches this way?”
“Battalion Commander, it's just one lieutenant's opinion. At least revise it...”
“That one lieutenant's trench we couldn't even breach, and now he's all talk.”
But the battalion commander, as if decided, furrowed his brow and said.
“Alright, let's try it once.”
“B-Battalion Commander.”
“I'm the battalion commander, not the super-battalion commander, my friend. I appreciate the respect, but call me by my proper title.”
As the officer stammered, Kluge brushed it off lightly and turned to the supply officer.
“Let's give it a shot. The division will send ample supplies, right? We can manage.”
“If... you've made up your mind...”
“Good, good.”
He suddenly stood up and strode over to me, who had been watching.
'Wh-what?'
A bit intimidated, I watched as the battalion commander grinned broadly.
“I! Follow the words of our Rommel staff officer! Have decided to reorganize the battalion! If it's right! Everything will work out! Right?!”
“...”
“Kuhahahahaha!”
Summary: If this fails, I'm screwed, but you're next after me.
...Why treat a mere lieutenant like this.
I haven't even been commissioned long...
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
A bunch of gifts arrived again for the 3rd Battalion soldiers.
“What's this now?”
“Let me see... Flammenwerfer?”
“Flamethrower?”
They were quite heavy gifts.
As a result of some lieutenant desperately piecing together knowledge and reality, pretty decent products had emerged and all headed to the 3rd Battalion.
...Of course, to civilian eyes, they just looked bizarre.
Whoosh—! During training, a soldier briefly used the flamethrower, and the troops' jaws dropped...
“Ooooh...”
“My piss stream goes farther?”
“No, it's over already? Premature.”
“The lieutenant's clearly younger than us... but probably can't satisfy a woman.”
...The awe lasted only a moment before they started downplaying the flamethrower with typical German dry jokes.
Well, it was crap, but in an era with few means to suppress positions, no choice.
Thus, the flamethrower got the nickname “Premature Lieutenant.”
“What's this trash now?”
And the next arrival was...
“A pistol with a magazine?”
“Fuck, how can a gun look this shoddy?”
Germany's faux luxury, Germany's Greece gun, Germany's sort-of submachine gun.
The MP40 appeared, leaping over a whopping 27 years.
Fortunately, the synthetic resin for MP40, Bakelite, was invented in 1907, and press tech, conveyor belts, etc., mass production from the Schlieffen Program made it possible somehow.
Plus squeezing out some lieutenant's brain for prototypes.
But 10 years changes the world; 27 years is just too long...
Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat—! A soldier sprayed bullets at the target...
“...Wow. Can't you shoot at all?”
“What the...”
Shockingly, not a single hit. Accuracy, grouping—zero.
But the biggest problem was...
Click—click—
“Jams after a few shots?”
“Bullet stuck?”
“Fucking piece of shit. How beat-up is it?”
Frustrated, the soldier lightly tossed the gun...
“...Aaaah?!”
“Get down! Down!”
Bang-bang-bang-bang!! The impact on the ground made it spray bullets everywhere.
That day, two soldiers got royally chewed out for poor weapon handling.
...The MP40 earned nicknames like “Dance of Death,” “Lieutenant's Grenade,” “Lieutenant's Period Cramps,” and more.
Detailed explanations on the nicknames... pass.