Chapter 56
Chapter 56
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 56
Chapter Title: Poland Offensive (2)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
"The Landwehr reserve corps has broken through the front lines."
"Intercepted communications confirm that the enemy Eighth Army headquarters has issued a general retreat order."
"Good."
General François, commander of the Eighth Army, clenched his fist tightly.
Everything was going smoothly. The Russian forces were being swept away like leaves in the autumn wind, no matter which unit they belonged to.
Max Hoffmann and Ludendorff had departed for the Ninth Army, and Paul Grünert, who had taken over as chief of staff, sidled up to me quietly.
"How does it look? Things seem to be going well overall, don't they?"
"Yes. It's a bit slow, but no major issues."
We were operating on a front similar to the Schlieffen Plan, but our speed was far superior.
Fewer troops meant higher risks, but it had its own merits.
As I stared down at the operations map, one of the staff officers let out an exclamation.
"The enemy Eighth Army is in full rout! They've collapsed the front!"
"Really?! Update the operations map according to the incoming reports!"
"..."
Something felt off in a strange way, so I stepped back slowly.
Soon, the excited staff officers hurriedly repositioned the markers.
With the Eighth Army's markers pulled back, it was like the gates were wide open.
"Hahaha! At this rate, victory is all but assured!"
"We need to merge the flanking forces with the corps that broke through toward the Eighth Army."
"That'll naturally form another encirclement! More medals for us!"
The staff officers erupted in cheers, celebrating as if the battle was already won.
Even the commander and chief of staff couldn't hide their grins, their lips curling upward uncontrollably.
But I analyzed the situation from a few steps away.
'This is strange. The Eighth Army still has considerable strength left.'
I compiled the reported intelligence and data.
No matter how I approached it, the conclusion was the same. The Eighth Army's retreat wasn't a rout.
I quickly approached a communications runner who was rushing about.
"What exactly did the corps report?"
"Enemy Eighth Army collapsing in rout, expanding gains."
"Could you verify it once more, even if it's a hassle?"
"Ah... Understood."
His eyes held a hint of doubt, but the runner nodded without complaint.
I sent the soldier off and double-checked the incoming reports.
As my conviction grew, the soldier slipped back in quietly.
"...Correction. Not a rout, but a retreat."
"Damn it. Ahem, don't report this to corps headquarters."
A curse nearly slipped out, but I held it back.
It was obvious. They were exaggerating for higher merit.
I was reminded once again that this happened across history, East and West alike.
'But why retreat? They must know this endangers their entire front.'
I checked the enemy's supply lines.
'We've already seized or destroyed a good portion. So it's not about regrouping.'
This was tricky. It felt like wandering in a maze.
I pored over every document in sight.
'Not this... Doesn't seem like that... This?'
Suddenly, the enemy Eighth Army's order of battle and personnel info caught my eye.
I read the name at the top.
"Aleksei Brusilov... Aleksei Brusilov..."
I'd definitely heard the name before. Not to be confused with Voroshilov.
And if it was a Russian Imperial general I knew...
'...He's undoubtedly a master tactician. At least someone whose name lingers in history.'
The nagging feeling that I was missing something faded considerably.
Replaced by the irritation of being outmaneuvered.
'This is a trap. Things are getting complicated.'
My intuition screamed it.
The enemy was plotting something.
As I fixated on the operations map, the headquarters atmosphere began to cool.
Chief of Staff Grünert asked me anxiously.
"What's wrong? Is there a problem?"
"Do you know Aleksei Brusilov?"
"The commander of the Eighth Army that's routing now. I heard he made a name in the Galicia battles."
Winning a single battle wouldn't stick in my mind unless it was significant.
His fame hadn't fully spread yet.
As I scrutinized the map slowly, I noticed our flanking corps.
I glanced back at the enemy Eighth Army's position. Positioned in East Prussia, they were close to our flanking forces.
'...No way? Wait...'
"What is it? Explain."
Commander François, unable to wait, demanded an answer.
I opened my mouth cautiously.
"Suppose... the enemy Eighth Army is retreating to intercept our corps' flanking maneuver. We'd need to recalculate."
"But the report said they were routing."
"Verified again—corrected from rout to retreat."
"Again? Those bastards!"
François exploded in anger at my words.
It was understandable. Rout and retreat are worlds apart.
Simply put, a rout is chaotic flight without combat effectiveness or goal; retreat is the opposite.
They'd phrased it ambiguously to claim credit without backlash if caught...
Looking at our commander, though, they wouldn't get off easy.
"Even so, to block our corps, the enemy Eighth Army would need to outpace us, but their rail lines are crippled."
"Right, with this lead, without rail transport, they can't catch up."
That's what I'd thought.
"No."
Not anymore.
I pulled out the enemy Eighth Army's order of battle.
"If intel is accurate, the enemy has at least one cavalry corps—possibly two."
"...I see."
François and Grünert grasped it immediately, their pupils dilating.
I voiced what they suspected—and feared.
"If caught by a cavalry corps..."
Shhhk! I borrowed a ruler from another staff officer and drew a line along it.
Then I checked my pocket watch.
"Enemy cavalry divisions march at 7-8 km/h. Our infantry divisions, half that."
The math was simple. Cavalry covers about twice the infantry's daily march.
Russian cavalry divisions often force-marched over 50 km a day, so plug in the numbers.
Minimum or maximum...
Our forces get caught.
"Damn."
"Hell!"
The straightforward calculation hit everyone the same.
With the encirclement incomplete, our corps would be overtaken—it was becoming clear.
This wouldn't do. Even with variables, cavalry corps would likely catch them.
The festive mood crashed into a funeral dirge in an instant.
"Once cavalry catches them, pursuing enemy infantry corps will pile on."
"Forget winning—the encirclement strategy itself falls apart."
"Order the encirclement forces to intercept the enemy main body?"
"The issue is the cavalry corps, not the main body. If they cling before the pocket closes, the enemy slips through the gap."
"Then intercept the cavalry... No, they'd avoid battle."
"Ugh."
As expected of top elites—they deduced it without explanation.
But even they had no easy solution.
Forming the encirclement meant our corps maintained infantry density while advancing, links unbroken.
Thus, as the pocket closed, end units thinned out.
Just before closure, a few divisions left—blocking a cavalry corps assault would be grueling.
Possible, but burdensome.
"This is problematic."
Unable to hide my grave expression, the staff stroked their chins worriedly.
General François chewed his lip, then burst out impatiently.
"Damn it, no encirclement means no real victory. Annihilating the Russian main force is the point of this operation."
"Mm."
"Give me an idea! You're the genius of our Eastern Front... no, the Red Fox!"
"Urgh."
I ran simulations in my head repeatedly, but no easy answers.
Infantry reserves to check cavalry pursuit? They bypass.
Cavalry counters cavalry? We lack numbers, and it wouldn't be decisive.
Another encirclement for the cavalry? Too time-consuming. If the Eighth main body catches up, it unravels.
"Jeez..."
To be checkmated by cavalry, which I'd dismissed so thoroughly.
I never imagined I'd feel so much like a 21st-century general.
...But somehow.
"Still."
In this flustered, dire situation.
I found myself smiling.
"This is fun, isn't it?"