Chapter 5
Chapter 5
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 5
Chapter Title: 4. The Former Chief of Staff of the German Empire's Great Army... (2)
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Opening the door and stepping inside, I spotted an old man with a stern, unyielding demeanor occupying the principal's chair.
His black army uniform was adorned with insignia and countless medals that glittered brilliantly under the light.
A figure who had etched his name into the history of the German Army stood before me.
...Don't get intimidated. I'm a war hero with achievements of my own.
I strode forward with deliberate weight in my steps, saluted properly, and greeted him.
"Excellency the Count, sir. Erwin Rommel."
"Hmph."
Count Schlieffen, arms crossed, snorted with a displeased expression for some reason.
...It couldn't be because I didn't add some nonsense like "lowly commoner" or whatever, right?
"Alfred von Schlieffen."
He spat out his name in a curt tone and indicated the chair in front of him with his chin.
'At least he doesn't plan to make me stand like he's disciplining me.'
I quickly sat down in the chair.
Schlieffen tossed a document in front of me like it was trash.
"Are you the author of this novel making the rounds?"
'It really gets around everywhere.'
I glared at the title: The Foreseen Great War and the New Paradigm of the Battlefield, thinking to myself.
It went without saying—this was the report my father had distributed starting with Hindenburg to the upper echelons of the military.
"Yes, that's correct."
It irked me that he'd dismissed the report I'd poured my heart into as mere fiction, but I answered straightforwardly.
In the end, rank is everything.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk. The Army's gone slack without me. To think everyone's losing their minds over a greenhorn's scribbles."
"..."
At my confident reply, Count Schlieffen scowled and muttered curses.
Affirming it would be insulting the superiors, denying it would contradict the Count, so I simply stayed silent.
Count Schlieffen waved the document in front of me as he spoke.
"So, the reason I summoned you here... No, wait. The reason you came here..."
The Count cleared his throat belatedly, trying to correct his slip, but seemed at a loss for words and glossed over it vaguely.
"Ahem. Surely you realized the flaws in this report and came to consult me, the master of mobile warfare, in the dead of night!"
"...Yes."
"Exactly!"
My illusions shattered without a trace.
The German Empire's greatest strategist was putting on such a pathetic display.
Still, let's think positively. Schlieffen is indeed the ideal opponent for debating the nature of war.
"Does Your Excellency see many problems with this report?"
"Of course!"
He shouted boldly, belying his age, and continued.
"What are they teaching at the cadet schools these days for cadets to write drivel like this? I can't comprehend it!"
"I see."
"Mass encirclement through mobile warfare! Wars were the same in Napoleon's time, the Franco-Prussian War... So how in the world could this 'trench warfare' possibly come about?!"
Before responding, I observed Count Schlieffen closely.
Unlike his confident tone, his body was rigid, his eyes slightly avoiding mine.
He was trying to hide it, but I could sense the thick undercurrent of anxiety and doubt.
"Answer me! Quickly! If you can't, retract it right now!"
"..."
It was pitiful seeing him like this to someone not even his grandson.
Then again, at this point in time, the Schlieffen Plan was likely nearing completion.
I fell silent for a moment before speaking.
"The reason trench warfare is inevitable is simple."
"What?"
"Machine guns. One machine gun explains it all."
No need for lengthy explanations.
"Machine guns pour out overwhelming firepower, creating an environment extremely favorable to the defender. The British-developed Maxim gun fires over 600 rounds per minute, doesn't it?"
"..."
"We developed the MG08 last year, a lightened version of the Maxim. Probably all of Europe is obsessed with this new weapon, the machine gun."
Humans and horses alike are fragile creatures that a single bullet can kill.
Paradoxically, Europeans had developed a trend of romanticizing war because of machine guns.
Having achieved such overwhelming victories overseas with them, they'd lost their minds.
'You can tell just how strong that tendency was from the opening of No Issues on the Western Front.'
But... civilians might be excused, yet even soldiers were floundering in similar romanticism.
"Add to that the advances in bolt-action rifles and rapid-fire guns, and the advantage tilts even further toward defense. Strategy and tactics lag behind, but... when war breaks out, that will change."
"...No. You're overestimating weapons like machine guns and artillery."
"..."
I stayed silent. No point arguing that.
I couldn't exactly have him fire a machine gun right here.
Count Schlieffen continued gravely.
"If you don't give them time to respond, you can crush the enemy swiftly. Mobility substitutes for firepower."
"That's true, but..."
I nodded at his words.
Mobility substitutes for firepower. Undeniably correct. Hadn't I planted the Taegukgi in Pyongyang believing that?
The problem was...
"The great powers' mobilization capabilities and rail transport speeds for troops are surprisingly inadequate. The burden has grown too heavy compared to the massively increased troop numbers."
And no tanks, of course.
I shook my head firmly, but the Count didn't seem ready to concede easily.
"...Is that so?"
He hesitated, muttering that, then pulled another document from his pocket.
'What's this now...'
Receiving the document, I had to grit my teeth to keep from gasping in surprise.
A detailed map marked with sharp arrows indicating troop movements.
Arrows cluttered across northern France and Belgium, as if slicing them into countless pieces.
This was... the plan for invading France through the Low Countries.
...The Schlieffen Plan.
"Well? This plan... it's just hastily thrown together, but isn't it perfect for refuting your logic?"
Count Schlieffen said, his eyes gleaming.
I nearly let out a scoff. From the arrow sizes to place names and numbers, it was concisely yet meticulously detailed—hardly "hastily thrown together."
This was clearly an official plan summary.
But... why show this overview to me, a mere cadet?
It couldn't be just to refute a cadet's words.
This plan was surely top-secret, known only to high command.
"Admit it. Even in this era, mobile warfare still works. Imagine you're a French general... You couldn't stop it, could you?"
I looked up and met Count Schlieffen's gaze.
Looking closely, his eyes... were bloodshot.
'...Ah, the tragedy of perfectionism.'
This pitiful old man seemed to have agonized endlessly after hearing that his life's work was wrong.
But being too intelligent, he'd realized no logic could refute it.
So he'd come to hear this arrogant punk admit he was right in person...
"Admit it... now!"
'Tsk, tsk, tsk.'
It was pathetic how he couldn't admit his beliefs were wrong and was resorting to this stubbornness.
I thoroughly masked my emotions and scanned the Schlieffen Plan overview from top to bottom.
'As expected, this plan...'
My judgment was swift. So was my response.
I opened my mouth.
"With all due respect..."
"..."
After sending the arrogant cadet away, Count Schlieffen sank deep into thought.
The sunset cast a red glow over the office.
Yet the old man's torment showed no sign of easing.
"...Hoo."
With a trembling sigh, Count Schlieffen unfolded the cadet's report once more.
The Great War, machine guns, trench warfare, barbed wire, logistics, troops, artillery, doctrine.
It was a masterpiece that synthesized the technological and temporal advancements overlooked by everyone from lieutenants to generals, foreseeing the shape of the coming war.
Within the Army, those refuting this report fell into two broad categories.
Those too dim to comprehend such a courteous report.
And... those terrified of being obsolete in the new battlefield.
'No. I... I'm not afraid. The Schlieffen Plan isn't wrong...'
Cavalry officers and countless reactionaries clamored to expel Rommel from the cadet school immediately.
However, talents on the younger side, rallied around Hindenburg, stepped forward to protect him.
This conflict had grown so large it reached even the retired Count Schlieffen's ears.
Out of curiosity, the Count reviewed the report... and that day, his convictions were shaken to the roots.
"..."
[With all due respect, this overview doesn't disprove trench warfare...]
The arrogant cadet's words echoed as if he were still there.
[I believe it's the only way to achieve victory before trench warfare sets in.]
"Yes... it must be..."
[Not all elements are visible, but at this level of detail, the full plan must be even more elaborate.]
"..."
[However, there are points to watch out for.]
The ambiguous smile on the Count's face froze at those words.
[A clock made of hundreds of gears and cogs is precise, but... prone to breaking.]
"...And so?"
[All the more in the battlefield, rife with variables—a military plan is even easier to shatter. Moltke and Clausewitz warned against over-relying on plans.]
"But it's a plan sufficient for success."
[Whether this plan succeeds or fails is unknown...]
In his memory, the cadet stared at Count Schlieffen with ice-cold eyes and handed back the overview.
[If it fails... millions of troops will clash in a massive battle to overwhelm each other, but even that will fail, forming two endless lines.]
"..."
[Mobility will halt, leaving only interminable trench lines.]