Trench Construction (3)
As I kept shoveling away, a sudden thought crossed my mind.
"That 1st Squad Leader guy perfectly timed his vacation to skip out on trench duty, huh?"
Honestly, not hard to understand. I'd do the same if I could swing a leave during training or work details. The soldiers seemed to agree as they glanced over, but their reactions felt a bit off somehow.
"Why? Did something big happen back home for 1st Squad Leader?"
"No, it's not that. He..."
"He?"
"He applied for leave right after hearing you'd be joining the platoon, Deputy Platoon Leader."
......That bastard?
Well, not exactly incomprehensible. He probably wanted to bail even more than on this grunt work. I get it, but it doesn't sit great knowing I'm the reason he's dodging.
"What's 1st Squad Leader's name again?"
"I-Iwan, sir."
"He's the senior squad leader in our platoon, right?"
"Yes, sir."
Just you wait, Iwan. You better not give me any openings to nitpick.
I handed my sandbag off to a soldier and headed back to the trench site. I wanted to check how the brush clearing was going.
"Ah, Deputy Platoon Leader. You're here."
"Gary. How's the work coming?"
"As you can see."
The soldiers were actually doing a solid job. They were digging out the brush roots with shovels and hacking off the smaller branches with daggers.
"Make sure you gather up the cut grass properly. We'll use it for camouflaging the trench."
"Yes, sir."
"Hey, clear that rock over there. If a spell hits it wrong and shatters, the shrapnel'll kill us all."
"Got it."
We cleared obstacles, dug the ground a bit deeper, and marked out spots for supply placement while shaping the trench foundation. Once that was sorted, I moved with the soldiers to the shoveling area and hauled sandbags back and forth.
After a few trips, I spotted the platoon leader and platoon HQ coming down from the firing positions.
"Where are you headed?"
"To push lunch."
What? Already lunchtime? We hadn't even made real progress...
I stared after the retreating platoon HQ, then turned to the deputy squad leader.
"Gary, you know how to handle mana?"
"A little."
"Good. Then help me chop some trees."
I drew the sword hanging uselessly at my waist like a white elephant and channeled mana into it. The blade started gleaming sharply.
I scanned around and picked a straight, tall tree. Then—slash. The standard-issue supply sword now cut like it had nothing to envy from a chainsaw. You could barely tell it was cut at first glance. A nudge with my foot, and it toppled with a thud thud thud.
Satisfied, I turned—and the soldiers were all standing there with jaws dropped.
Hmm. That's the good stuff. Keep feasting your eyes on your awesome deputy platoon leader, boys.
I swung the sword to trim the branches, then chopped the trunk into uniform logs, producing a dozen stakes.
Sharpen one end of these, and they'd make perfect supports for the sandbags... Wait a sec. Why does it feel like I'm doing this solo?
I looked at Gary, who was still gaping.
"Hey, Gary! What're you doing? Get on it!"
"I-I can't handle mana that precisely..."
"Then sharpen these logs into stakes. You can do that, right? Grab five soldiers for it. The other three, stick with me. More trees to fell."
The work continued. After I'd cut three more trees, one of the soldiers I'd assigned to stakes came running over.
"What?"
"Lunch push is here. Time to eat."
Oh!
"Alright, lads! Mess call!"
Today's push was rock-hard bread, salty-as-hell jerky, and soup so watered-down it was flavorless.
Yeah. It was awful. Even after hard labor, it hit like that. I was seriously considering having my maids back home train the cooks when I got back.
......Huh? That's not a bad idea.
I'll float that later.
"Listen up while you eat. Battalion's passed down some directives."
The platoon leader's voice cut through my wandering thoughts. All eyes turned to him.
"First: When building positions, don't just do firing posts—make mantlets too and position them."
Mantlets? Were those standard before? I hadn't seen traces when I scouted earlier.
"They said to follow the FM."
FM, huh. Who's the bigwig coming by? We skipped it before—now FM all of a sudden...
...No way it's me, right? Felt like the soldiers' eyes flicked my way.
Nah, gotta be my imagination.
"Second: Cut some grass for horse fodder while you're out. Since you're in the mountains anyway."
Just busywork. Plenty of brush already cut—we can load it on the wagons on the way back.
"Deputy."
"Yes, sir."
"After chow, you're with me inspecting the whole platoon's positions."
"Understood."
Right now I was handling 1st Squad's trench due to shortages, but as deputy platoon leader, I needed eyes on every position.
After eating, I left 1st Squad's construction to the deputy squad leader and followed the platoon leader.
3rd Squad and platoon HQ were on a hill above the mine entrance. Clear line of sight to the front terrain.
The platoon leader pointed to 1st and 2nd Squad positions.
"When the enemy enters, 1st Squad engages first. While they delay, 2nd Squad splits: Squad Leader goes to 1st, deputy handles any remaining miners' evac first. Then joins the fight."
His gaze shifted to 3rd Squad's position right ahead.
"3rd covers from range. But random shooting risks friendly fire from blind arrows. That's why platoon HQ fires a signal arrow from close range first. Here."
He beckoned, and a soldier handed me a bundle of arrows. All signal flares, each with different hole patterns and counts.
"Usually, the deputy handles signals."
Memorization time.
Signal types were empire-standard, but meanings varied by unit—had to learn each one's codes. Made sense with different terrain and setups.
"Two holes means combat start. Fire first to alert the company if enemies come."
Standard stuff.
"This blunt head with four holes: volley fire. 1st and 2nd disperse immediately; 3rd follows with staggered arrow barrages."
"Hold up a sec. Mind if I take notes?"
"Got a kit?"
"Standard issue, right?"
Notebook and pen were must-haves for a modern soldier. Back in my old life, I always kept one in my chest pocket. No such thing here, so I used disposable papyrus sheets, a 10cm quill, and a pinky-sized ink vial.
Pulling out my kit for real, the platoon leader looked surprised. He cleared his throat lightly.
"Fine for now, since it's your first time. But memorize and discard notes eventually."
"Yes, sir."
"Next flare: three holes in a straight line..."
His signal tactics rundown burned through five papyrus sheets. But platoon tactics weren't done.
"See that path behind? Leads to a wide road, then company HQ positions. Use for runners sending/receiving. Horses are tied at the mine now for work, but in action, tether behind this path."
He covered exfil routes, enemy approach predictions, comms. Good thing I brought the kit—would've forgotten half if just listening.
After the platoon leader's briefing, I returned to 1st Squad's trench. It was shaping up nicely: stakes driven in hoops as I'd prepped, sandbags stacked neatly atop.
Brought back old memories, but finishing came first.
"Pile dirt in front for cover, camouflage with brush, and done."
"Yes, sir!"
"That's one down. Need two more."
Ten squad members split into three positions: one 4-man for squad leader, two 3-man for deputy and archers.
This one was deputy squad leader's, closest to the choke point. Squad leader's bigger due to extra man; archers' elevated on a mound. This was the easy one.
At this pace, by day three, we'd have some breathing room.
...Or so the princess thought.
Meanwhile, 1st Battalion Commander Lucian Crovants was rushing back with an urgent look. He bolted straight to the battalion commander's office upon arrival.
The room, which should have been empty without its owner, held two people.