Chapter 65
Chapter 65
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 65
Chapter Title: Two Sides of a Coin (1)
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-To my beloved moon.
[We couldn't even say proper goodbyes because we left at dawn.]
[It was short, but spending the day together was really nice. I hated to leave.]
[When the war ends, let's spend lots of time together no matter what.]
...
[And we have all those canned goods we've stocked up, right?]
[Even if a real food shortage hits later, we've got plenty to spare.]
[There's quite a lot, so maybe we could distribute some... That's what I'm thinking.]
[Well, it's up to you, but if you're considering it...]
[The city will have massive reserves, so we should focus distribution on the poor.]
[Even if we can't do much, we could at least stand by the orphans and those in need around us... That's the idea.]
[I miss you already.]
[I'll do my best to come back soon.]
-Your loving Immortal, Rommel.
"...Hehe, such a kind person."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
December 1, 1914.
"Oh! The hero of the Eastern Front arrives right on time! Erwin Rommel!"
"Major Erwin Rommel, appointed as the OHL's logistics staff officer. It's an honor to meet you."
Clap clap clap clap clap.
A lukewarm round of applause echoed through the room.
A quick glance around showed no one particularly disliked me. Neither the colonels nor the generals.
They all just looked exhausted. Even Falkenhayn himself.
But Falkenhayn's eyes still burned with fire.
"Come with me, Rommel."
Falkenhayn quietly called me as I was gauging the mood.
This didn't seem good... I swallowed a sigh and nodded.
He led me into a quiet, secluded room.
"Sit."
"Yes, sir."
"Tea or coffee?"
"I had some earlier, so I'm fine. Thank you."
Pour... Falkenhayn poured coffee into a cup and sat right in front of me.
Gulp... Gulp... He then downed the steaming hot coffee in one go. Like someone so on edge they couldn't feel the heat.
I asked cautiously.
"...Isn't it hot?"
"Argh, I must look strange. Truth is, I've been so busy lately that I've gotten into the habit of chugging it."
Falkenhayn wiped his mouth and continued bitterly.
"Well... Hard work doesn't guarantee success."
"..."
I stared at Falkenhayn thoughtfully before responding.
"Are you talking about the Battle of Ypres?"
"...Yes."
First Battle of Ypres. I knew the details since it was on the Western Front, unlike the East.
The famous 'Race to the Sea' where both sides tried to outflank each other.
It happened while I was away, and in the end, German maneuvers and breakthroughs failed, leaving two long lines of trenches glaring at each other all the way to the sea.
'The Schlieffen Plan is completely finished... Tiresome as it is to say.'
"Hoo..."
"..."
I couldn't hold back a sigh, and Falkenhayn's bitter smile deepened.
"Pitiful, isn't it? Fair enough. You and the Eastern Front generals brought only glory to the homeland, so I get it."
"That's not what I meant."
I hurriedly shook my head at his self-deprecating tone.
After the defeat at the First Battle of the Marne, this was inevitable. It wasn't Falkenhayn's fault.
"Our army's mobility has clear limits, so it was unavoidable. It's just... short-term victory is now impossible, so I sighed."
"Indeed... Short-term victory is off the table."
"Planting our flag in Paris, St. Petersburg, or Moscow is a distant dream."
"You think so too?"
Falkenhayn snapped his head up, his bloodshot eyes looking up at me.
I'd only prodded lightly, but his reaction was intense. I could guess how cornered he felt mentally.
Not waiting for my answer, the Chief of Staff unleashed words like a machine gun.
"Exactly. Breaking through those insane trenches or reaching the ridiculously distant Moscow doesn't make sense! You know this simple fact, so how can those fools...!"
"..."
Falkenhayn's clenched fist trembled, and I gazed at him coldly.
Who were those fools? Probably everyone except himself.
I personally rated Falkenhayn highly, but this was a flaw.
He'd made too many enemies without realizing it. He just thought the Eastern Front was the problem.
From that uneasy atmosphere earlier, even the OHL didn't seem fond of the Chief of Staff.
His personality just didn't suit command from the start. Insight alone isn't enough for a commander, unlike a staff officer.
"So, what direction do you think we should take for victory, Chief of Staff?"
"..."
Falkenhayn's mouth twitched and quivered at my question.
Was he nervous to voice his true thoughts, or...
Did he think his own plan was too fanciful?
I watched him closely.
"...Attrition warfare."
"Attrition."
Falkenhayn barely moved his parched lips to continue.
"France has an unstable republican political base. Their leaders' power rests on public support, and those citizens' families are on the front lines."
"..."
"So, the more of their soldiers we kill, the faster their political foundation shakes. Who wants their family massacred?"
As if he'd mulled this over endlessly, the Chief of Staff's words sped up.
"We're different from France, like Russia. We're an empire. We don't have precious citizens—just expendable 'subjects.' Losing a million or two million won't shake the government's legitimacy."
"Ah, I see."
Really?
I had plenty to say, but I nodded along moderately.
Well, if you haven't tasted 'communist revolution,' you might think that.
"That's why the Western Front! Unlike Russia, France values lives—that's their weakness! If casualties keep rising at similar rates, the scales will tip our way inevitably!"
"..."
I calmly watched Falkenhayn raise his voice, growing convinced of his own idea.
His grand strategy had a fatal flaw.
Kill the Frogs over and over, and they'll surrender on their own? Who knows.
I doubted he even had a blueprint to keep funneling their troops in.
Besides, the side desperate to commit troops right now was us—the more urgent one.
The longer it dragged, the better for the enemy. Britain's blockade would dry up our resources over time.
The Frog-Pirate alliance knew that—would they really sacrifice so much?
...Even so.
'...However.'
Falkenhayn's argument aligned with my goals.
Of course, there were nuances. Both he and I wanted victory in this war...
But I had a second priority: smashing the potential WWII enemy's power as much as possible.
It fit my aim of planning for the future if we couldn't win.
"So, maximize French casualties?"
"Yes, exactly."
"And you're looking for a suitable method?"
Therefore.
"I'm exploring every option... Appointing you as logistics staff is part of that."
"I see."
"Do you have a method?"
Taking a breath.
I decided to answer Falkenhayn's question.
"...We'll have to violate a few Geneva Convention articles."
"You have it!! You do!!"
My heavy response felt like a Christmas gift; Falkenhayn's eyes sparkled.
Like a child, he urged me on.
"Tell me quick! What's the way to kill those French bastards maximally?!"
"..."
"Don't stall—answer!"
I was hesitating, as he said.
"Hurry!"
To make Falkenhayn anxious? No.
Guilt crawled up my back, and the last shred of conscience choked my throat.
But in the end, I spoke.
"...Do you know about chemical weapons?"
Because the fatherland commanded it, and I had sworn victory and glory to her.
To turn the soldiers, the Western Front into hell.
Killing tens, hundreds of millions with my own hands...
Wasn't it already familiar?