Chapter 4
Chapter 4
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 4
Chapter Title: 3. Former Chief of the German Empire's Grand Army General Staff... (1)
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"Cicero's Catiline Orations are counted among the masterpieces of ancient Roman rhetoric. They also serve as exemplars of Latin literature..."
Tap- tap tap- The instructor wrote Latin sentences down on the blackboard.
"This sentence is the famous opening of that speech. Let's see... Cadet Rommel."
"Yes."
Scrape- I stood up from my seat amid the cadets' stares.
"Can you read this sentence?"
"Quo usque tandem abutere, Catilina, patientia nostra?"
I immediately read the sentence in response to the instructor's question.
'How long, Catiline, will you abuse our patience?' is what it means.
"Impressive. Sit down. Speeches that begin with an opening like this..."
Seeing me read the sentence fluently, the instructor nodded in satisfaction.
I sat back down and resumed taking notes.
The curriculum at the German Empire's cadet schools was rigorous, covering not just basic military studies but also Latin, Greek, and more.
This reflected the empire's strong commitment to training not mere officers, but 'elite' officers.
It might seem unrelated to warfare, but with officers maintaining such a high baseline, the German Army had no choice but to become a powerhouse.
...Of course, being elite doesn't mean there are only advantages.
"That goody-two-shoes prick..."
"A commoner parachute like him, daring to be here..."
I could hear the whispers around me, loud enough to be clearly meant for my ears.
As elites and nobles, they had a strong sense of superiority and were highly exclusive toward outsiders.
Especially in the military, known for its closed-off nature.
All those factors combined, and as a commoner, I ended up neither fully ostracized nor just ignored, but somewhere in between.
'What am I, a kid, to be treated like this...'
I'd come here to build connections and pave a solid path to generalship, but this was a problem.
Time to change plans. I need to befriend people like Manfred who are destined for fame.
...The issue is, I don't know who's who, or if they'll even accept me.
I felt reality crashing down, but I pushed it aside and focused on the lesson.
Ding! Ding! Ding! Soon the class bell rang, and the cadets stood up sharply, packing their things.
"Haa... I don't get why it's so damn tough."
"Yeah?"
Manfred grumbled as he packed his books.
With so many subjects, the bags holding the books were practically marching packs if you exaggerated a bit.
"Why is the day so long..."
Manfred muttered blankly at the pile of books, and I turned my head to the window with its view of the blue sky.
"...Tell me about it."
If there's anything else to say about cadet life besides it being fucking grueling...
It's more specialized than expected, but still steeped in outdated doctrinal training.
Diverse education for cultivating elite officers.
Digging trenches, rolling in the training fields... For a cradle of military nobility, we sure ate a lot of mud.
And... occasionally, distinguished guests would visit.
"Platoon, attention!"
Snap! At the instructor's command, we snapped to attention.
"Tomorrow, a VIP will visit to inspect the cadet school."
The instructor looked down at us sternly and continued.
"I expect you cadets to receive the guest armed with the same solid discipline and spirit as always."
Since VIP visits weren't a rare occurrence anymore, we listened calmly.
Of course, on the surface only—inside, everyone was probably filled with dread over the instructors and seniors making a fuss.
I felt the same twist in my gut. Since blue blood didn't run in my veins, I always suffered extra.
...I'd only been around the military scent a short while, and already curses were slipping out automatically.
"The VIP is none other than... Excellency the Count Alfred von Schlieffen, whom our Imperial Army reveres."
Twitch- I could see the cadets' bodies tremble. Naturally, I trembled too.
In 1906, just three years ago, he had been the Chief of Staff and the top figure in the German Empire's army, a living legend wielding immense authority.
The architect of the famous Schlieffen Plan for bypassing and invading France.
The strategist who honed Germany into a war machine.
Alfred von Schlieffen.
My eyebrows twitched, and heavy worry began to set in.
Because...
'It might look like I'm openly predicting the failure of the Schlieffen Plan.'
My father said the report I'd written on trench warfare and future war patterns had spread quite a bit through the upper echelons of the military.
Debates on whether it was right or wrong cropped up frequently, but especially its rationality and logic...
Above all, it became a topic that no kid my age could possibly write something so advanced.
Anyway, the core point was that maneuver warfare wouldn't work so easily anymore...
Schlieffen was a maneuver warfare enthusiast who'd poured that conviction into crafting the Schlieffen Plan, so my report was like dousing it with cold water.
'...It'll be fine. Publicly, I know nothing about the Schlieffen Plan.'
I'd had such complacent thoughts at times.
The next day.
One instructor came looking for me.
"Cadet Rommel, the Count has ordered you brought to him. Follow me."
"..."
...It's four in the morning right now?
In a daze, half-asleep, I followed the instructor, unsure if this was a dream or reality.
The instructor seemed exhausted too, saying nothing about my sloppy posture. Or rather, unable to.
We walked down the main building until we reached the school commandant's office.
The commandant stood outside looking utterly forlorn, practically on watch—clearly indicating who'd taken over his office.
"I've brought him."
"Cadet Erwin Rommel reporting."
I saluted, and the commandant frowned, waving his hand dismissively.
Rather, he seemed desperate to somehow get the old Count out of his office.
"Yes, Cadet Rommel. As you heard, Count Schlieffen has summoned you..."
At four in the morning... I could almost hear the unspoken addition.
He looked at me with concern.
"It's probably about that report you submitted to General Hindenburg. It... might not have sat well with Count Schlieffen."
"Understood."
"Though you're a commoner birth and only recently transferred into this cadet school, several instructors say you're officer material."
"You're too kind."
Did he have to emphasize the commoner birth??
I hid my indifference and answered low but firmly.
"Don't give those instructors who praised you any trouble! Understood? Show maximum courtesy!"
The commandant pleaded desperately. The instructor glanced at me pleadingly too.
I knew getting on the bad side of an army elder like Schlieffen could cost them their positions and promotions...
Still, it felt ridiculous. As if I were some baby chick.
"I'll keep it in mind."
"Good. Whew..."
At my response, the commandant hesitated, then raised a trembling hand.
Knock knock- A knock neither too soft nor too loud echoed, and a stern elderly voice came from inside.
"Who is it?"
"Excellency the Count Schlieffen. Cadet Erwin Rommel, who has always admired Your Excellency, humbly seeks an audience."
"Hah, how insolent to seek me at this dawn hour. Send him away at once."
For a moment, it was so absurd I blinked at the commandant.
Wait, didn't the Count summon me?
The commandant ignored me and continued speaking to the Count inside.
"This young cadet, unable to contain his youthful zeal, begs for an audience. I humbly plead you graciously allow him entry."
"Outrageous! I've served the army for fifty years straight—how dare a mere cadet make such a demand of me! Discipline in the military has collapsed!"
'...What the hell.'
The visibly fatigued commandant pulled a note from his sleeve and handed it to me.
He gestured for me to read it quickly.
I read it aloud reluctantly.
"I seek an audience with Excellency the Count Alfred von Schlieffen, former Chief of the German Empire's Grand Army General Staff, father of the cavalry that cleaves the earth, master of encirclement, and the greatest Chief of Staff in history."
"Who seeks entry?!"
The commandant handed me the next note.
"Johannes Erwin Eugen Rommel, he who aspires to generalship, called the second Schlieffen... a prodigy, a genius who illuminates the future, and representative of the cadets, seeks an audience with Your Excellency."
"We know no such person!"
What a load of bullshit.
The commandant hesitated, then handed over the next note.
What could be written on it...
Oh, damn it.
"...Rommel, a lowly, sinful commoner-born wretch, begs for an audience with Your Excellency."
"Then enter."
"..."
The commandant avoided my gaze and quietly took back the note.
Then whispered low.
"...I'll give you some leave later."
...I've seen it all in my life.
My first meeting with the renowned General Schlieffen was the worst.