Chapter 132 - Farewells and New Encounters
The bodies of Jonas and Yurgen were sent to the rear.
Ernest, together with his friends, carefully loaded the sack containing Jonas's body onto the transport vehicle, while Yurgen's body was carried by Robert and the other members of the 2nd Company.
Jonas's body was accompanied by letters from his friends.
Yurgen's body was sent off with letters written by the surviving members of the 2nd Company.
The 2nd Company members who had learned to write from Ernest pressed their awkward handwriting onto the page, pouring their feelings into the letters to Yurgen's wife, telling her what a wonderful man Yurgen had been.
Everyone cried a lot.
Even Ferdinand, who tried to hold it together with reddened eyes, finally let a single hot tear fall from his eyes.
But Ernest did not cry.
His eyes were already swollen from the tears he'd shed, and he quietly saw Jonas and Yurgen off.
"What do we do now?"
Watching the transport vehicle drive off toward the rising sun, Robert muttered.
"We have to get back to our duties. We can't just sit here doing nothing."
"I want to just sit and do nothing."
"Then do that. Maybe it's okay to take a day."
"What about you?"
"I'm the Acting Company Commander. I don't get to rest."
"Sniff! Damn it. I'll do what I can with the 3rd Platoon."
"Alright."
Ernest was not only acting Company Commander but also the 1st Platoon Leader.
On top of that, Jonas, who had been the 3rd Platoon Leader, had also been killed in action.
If Robert really took a day off, Ernest alone would have to take care of the entire 2nd Company.
As acting 2nd Company Commander, Ernest managed things for three more days.
And then, strangely enough, he found himself in a familiar situation.
"Lieutenant Krieger, as of this moment, you are the Company Commander of 2nd Company, 1st Battalion."
When Ernest went to the command post for the morning report and meeting, Levin strode over, stood Ernest and Ferdinand in front of him, and stated this without preamble.
"Furthermore, Lieutenant Hartmann and Lieutenant Krieger are hereby promoted to Captain. Since we're in a wartime situation, we'll skip the procedures."
Levin held out his hand to a waiting non-commissioned officer, who opened a box and carefully handed over captain's insignia.
Levin then presented them to Ferdinand and Ernest.
"Do your best to continue making a difference."
"Yes, sir!"
Ernest and Ferdinand both saluted energetically, still not quite sure what was happening.
After only a month on the battlefield, both had become company commanders and were promoted to captain.
Ernest wondered if this too was just another way for them to leverage his name, but he quickly grasped what was going on.
'The regimental commander has authority over personnel matters for the unit.'
Starting from the regimental commander, they have the power to make personnel decisions for their subordinate units. In other words, this kind of rapid promotion could only have happened if the regimental commander intervened.
But the commander of the 13th Regiment had just made a blunder that would go down in history as monumental incompetence.
Even the Major Baltracher, a First-Class, had bluntly said as much and predicted he'd be demoted.
So, if someone was in a position to appoint Ernest as Company Commander, promote him and Ferdinand to captain, and actually give them real authority in this situation…
'Lieutenant Colonel Hartmann isn't going to get promoted and take over as regimental commander. That leaves the Battalion Commander, doesn't it.'
Mark is a staff officer serving under Heinz in the corps; he's not likely to come out to the front lines right now.
Most likely, because of what just happened, the current 13th Regiment commander will be demoted, and the current 1st Battalion Commander, Lieutenant Colonel Levin Ort, is about to become the new 13th Regiment commander.
Ernest's prediction was spot on.
At the start of the meeting, Levin announced that until the new replacement Battalion Commander arrived, he would continue acting as 1st Battalion Commander, but then he'd be moving up to Regimental Commander of the 13th.
Officially, Levin was still the 1st Battalion Commander, but since it was all but certain he was going to become the new Regimental Commander, he was able to exercise his personnel authority, even if it wasn't the most appropriate way to do things.
In a way, it made for a rather awkward situation.
Even when Levin was just Battalion Commander, the battalion staff officers were always on edge around him.
Now that he was about to become the 13th Regiment Commander, the staff officers could hardly breathe from the tension.
That was because Levin had a lot of complaints about the battalion staff.
He'd always frowned when he saw officers who had never even seen combat receiving credit and rewards for things that happened at the front.
It was very likely that Levin promoted Ernest and Ferdinand to captain not just on merit, but also as a way to counterbalance these staff officers.
The typical promotion path for an officer was to serve as a platoon leader while a second lieutenant, then be promoted to lieutenant and take on the role of deputy company commander or join the staff.
And normally, you'd become Company Commander after being promoted to captain.
Of course, most of the current battalion staff officers have much longer military careers than Ernest and Ferdinand, and they hold the rank of lieutenant or captain.
In this situation, if the 1st and 2nd Company Commanders were lieutenants with barely a month of service, it could end up giving the staff officers far too much influence.
For Levin, who prioritized the judgment of commanders in the field, this was an unacceptable situation.
Honestly, from Levin's perspective, it was more than a little unsettling to appoint greenhorns with just one month of service as company commanders.
But after carefully observing and taking in feedback from those around him, he concluded that both men were competent enough to be entrusted with command.
Since they were doing well, it wasn't right to demote them back to platoon leader, and it would have been awkward to just move them to a staff position.
So, in the end, he decided to trust them fully and give them real authority.
The battalion staff, who picked up on this, were clearly uncomfortable.
Two seventeen-year-old second lieutenants who'd only been assigned as platoon leaders for a month had just been promoted to captain and put in charge of companies.
It was only natural for resentment to boil up inside them.
But they couldn't dare voice any complaints.
Even in peacetime, you'd never dream of pulling something like that in front of the regimental commander—let alone during wartime, when it was absolutely unthinkable.
During peace, you could let things go even if you weren't happy about them.
Following military custom, you'd just wait it out, send someone elsewhere, or tolerate it until they got promoted.
But in wartime, hardly anyone cares about custom.
If someone seems unfit, you're demoted or removed from your post on the spot.
That's exactly why the previous 13th Regiment commander is hanging by a thread right now, and Levin is about to take his place, isn't it?
"The 6th and 7th Divisions are expected to advance onto the plain the morning after tomorrow. They'll attempt a breakthrough at this point, and if they succeed, they'll be able to cut off the Belliang Army's supply line deployed in front of Bertagne Forest, forcing them to retreat."
Just a few days ago, the 6th and 7th Divisions succeeded in completely securing the northern part of Bertagne Forest.
In two days, they would push through the Belliang Army stationed on the plain and advance out onto the open fields.
To prepare for this, the 6th and 7th Divisions were currently clearing paths in the forest by logging.
All day long, soldiers were chopping down trees with axes and saws—every Balt Automobile and even Baltrachers had been mobilized. Now that they had full control over the forest, they could focus their manpower on making roads without worrying about enemy attacks.
In contrast, the 5th Division couldn't easily allocate personnel to logging, so progress was much slower.
Thanks to that bastard of a former 13th Regiment commander, the 5th Division's numbers had been so reduced that if they sent soldiers to logging now and the enemy attacked, they'd be in serious trouble.
"Reinforcements are scheduled to arrive tomorrow, but we haven't received any word yet. Honestly… it seems the regimental headquarters is paralyzed right now…"
No one knew when the 13th Regiment would actually receive reinforcements.
With the upcoming shakeup, not only would the current regimental commander be ousted, but the regimental staff would also be replaced in rapid succession, so it was bound to be chaotic.
"..."
And that looming chaos offered Levin, soon to be the next regimental commander, a new kind of headache.
Leaning back against his chair's armrest—a rare display—Levin buried his forehead in his hand and let out a long, heavy sigh.
After the First War of Conquest, the Empire poured vast resources into the military.
On paper, the Mihahil Empire was now powerful enough to unify the continent at any moment.
But The Emperor's neglect of internal affairs had rotted the military from within.
The decay had gone so deep that it couldn't be cured by simply cutting out a few bad pieces—now, they had to amputate whole limbs.
It was arrogance.
They thought they'd win easily.
By creating and blindly following outdated customs, truly talented individuals who deserve promotion remain stuck at the bottom, while incompetent nobles glide up the ranks and claim all the important positions.
"A wooden puppet would honestly be better. At least it would quietly watch from the sidelines without getting in the way," Levin thought.
Levin couldn't help but feel despair at the fact that he had to command the 13th Regiment and fight battles with these incompetent, yet overly ambitious, idiot bastards.
He wished he could just strip them of their posts or transfer them somewhere else.
But given the political dynamics within the military authorities, that was impossible.
Still, with this latest shake-up, things would inevitably change at least a little, so it might not be as bad as it was now.
If not—well, there was no helping it.
"I'll get in touch with regimental headquarters about the replenishments myself."
"Yes, sir."
In the end, Levin—already feeling overwhelmed just handling the 1st Battalion—decided to reach out to regimental headquarters directly as well.
Even though he was about to depart soon, and could have run the 1st Battalion on autopilot, Levin was too meticulous to let things slide.
After the meeting ended, Ernest and Ferdinand left the command post with uneasy expressions.
The staff officers were still avoiding them, discomfort visible on their faces.
"So this is how it turns out."
"Yeah."
The two young men, both promoted at an unbelievable speed, stood side by side, gazing up at the clear sky.
Not a shred of happiness, just a strange sense of detachment—almost shocking in its emptiness.
For Ferdinand, in particular, the situation was even more uncomfortable.
While the 13th Regiment commander's mistake did deserve a demotion, the fact that everything was moving so quickly was undoubtedly due to the influence of Big Hartmann and Middle Hartmann.
The Corps Chief of Staff and the Operations Section Chief have their eyes fixed on the 1st Battalion of the 13th Regiment.
If they make even the slightest misstep, a firestorm will rain down on them.
Perhaps even the 13th Regimental Commander, after giving the charge order, realized too late he should have thought of Ferdinand.
"What are you going to do from here?"
Ferdinand asked Ernest.
Ernest understood exactly what was behind that question.
"We've already lost too much."
"..."
"I can't accept any more losses."
"I see."
Ferdinand couldn't bring himself to criticize Ernest as he once had.
He felt the same way.
"We're not going to hide or run away."
Ernest's voice was firm but low.
"I'll do my duty in my position. But that's it. No more reckless battles."
He remembered what Armin had once told him—
About what kind of person his respected father was, and how he led his unit.
Sometimes you can hold back the enemy without fighting.
You can win without fighting.
Ernest would do as his father, Haires Krieger, once did.
He would do what was needed, where he was needed.
That was all.
He wouldn't do any more than that.
"Understood."
Ferdinand nodded slowly as he spoke.
He knew exactly what kind of commander Ernest was.
While Ernest was fully capable of fighting boldly from the front, his true specialty lay in strange, unconventional tactics—tactics that maximized gains with minimal losses, the kind that most people could hardly even conceive of, much less actually carry out.
Just because you couldn't see him acting didn't mean Ernest was idle. He would block the enemy and protect his men from places no one could see.
That was the belief Ferdinand held, shaped during three damn years at the Imperial Military Academy, where that wretched Ernest—Damn Krieger—caused him endless hardship and forced him into second place.
Ernest and Ferdinand parted ways and returned to their respective companies.
Ernest called together the officers of 2nd Company.
In reality, these were just Isaac, Bruno, and Robert.
In place of the now-vacant 1st and 3rd Platoon Leaders, the Deputy Platoon Leader sergeants attended.
"I've officially become 2nd Company Commander. And I've been promoted to Captain."
"…Couldn't you say that a bit more formally? The way you put it, it almost sounds like a joke."
"Lieutenant Jitman. Is that any way to speak to your superior?"
"Damn it. Hearing it put that way makes it really sink in. And it's Jimman, by the way."
Whether it was a slip of the tongue or just his unique way of showing affection, Yurgen had always joked about Jitman, and that memory brought a wave of longing over Ernest and Robert.
"Congratulations, Company Commander."
"..."
When Gustav calmly offered his congratulations, Ernest finally felt the reality settle in—he was now standing in Yurgen's place.
From this moment on, Captain Ernest Krieger was responsible for every problem that might arise in 2nd Company.
The sense of responsibility he'd kept at bay under the title of 'acting' or 'interim' surged up so powerfully he felt practically nauseous.
Forcing himself to remain calm, Ernest met Gustav's eyes, gave a small, firm nod, and immediately turned to the practical matters of leading the company.
"Robert, our numbers will be reinforced tomorrow and new platoon leaders will arrive. From now on, you'll be the 1st Platoon Leader and Deputy Company Commander."
"No way!"
"Yeah, too bad. What do you want me to do about it? Is there anything you can do, Lieutenant Jitman?"
"This—this is tyranny!"
"We agreed not to call it tyranny, but an order. If you've got a problem with it, then you'd better hurry up and get promoted to captain yourself."
"..."
With Captain Ernest Krieger's command, Robert had no choice but to become both the 1st Platoon Leader and the Deputy Company Commander.
It wasn't just Robert transferring into the old 1st Platoon; the entire former 2nd Platoon was being reorganized as the new 1st Platoon.
The previous 1st Platoon would now become the 2nd Platoon.
"I'm sure someone way more capable than me will show up and take over the 1st Platoon anyway…"
"Sorry to disappoint you, Robert, but you're a competent officer yourself. And if you can talk to your superior this cheekily, maybe you should think about how the new platoon leaders will feel."
"..."
"So, as 2nd Platoon Leader, are you going to show me respect according to military rank and protocol? Or, as 1st Platoon Leader and Deputy Company Commander, are you going to keep acting cocky with your superior like you do now?"
"In the army, the rules are strict, so the person who's been here the longest should be deputy."
"If the rules are so strict, then shouldn't you not act like this toward me?"
"This isn't how friends should treat each other."
"All the more reason to be stricter with friends."
"From this moment on, I am Robert Jitman, Deputy Company Commander of 2nd Company. No, Jimman. Or should I stick with Jitman for now?"
"Suit yourself."
The two tried to chase away their gloom and sense of burden by rambling nonsense, but ultimately failed and fell into a brief silence.
"…When we're not in combat, I'll keep things as they are now."
Ernest spoke calmly again. By "as they are now," he meant that he would do things the way Yurgen had done.
"But when fighting begins, I'll command with the main goal of minimizing casualties in the Company. I've already informed the 1st Company Commander."
"If this gets treated as insubordination, it won't end well."
Gustav spoke carefully, watching Ernest.
"We just need to prove ourselves through results."
"…If we're trying to minimize casualties and achieve results at the same time…"
"There's no need to worry—Ferdinand will handle the assault."
"Then the 1st and 3rd Companies will take the heaviest losses."
"It's the job of the 2nd Company to prevent that."
"In that case, it'll be the 2nd Company taking the brunt of the casualties…"
Gustav couldn't understand what Ernest was getting at.
He had no idea what Ernest meant.
If the 2nd Company refuses to fight out of fear of casualties, then the 1st and 3rd Companies will bear the brunt of the losses.
Yet the 2nd Company says they want to protect the 1st and 3rd.
In that case, won't the 2nd Company end up taking the heaviest casualties themselves?
"You don't necessarily have to fight just to stop the enemy."
"Are you thinking of setting traps or something?"
Robert scratched his head as he asked.
"If necessary. But basically, we'll move to cut off the enemy's tactics in advance."
"Without actual combat?"
"If possible, yes."
"How?"
Everyone turned to Ernest at Robert's question.
Ernest answered with the same calm, composed tone.
"If we have a unit with enough strength to anticipate the enemy's tactics ahead of time and respond flexibly, it's absolutely possible. All we need to do is create the battlefield the enemy least wants to fight in, at the time they least want to fight, and in the situation they least want to face."
"Hmm… You're entirely right. Well, I'll just trust you to handle it as you see fit," said Robert, accepting Ernest's reasoning.
Even Isaac and Bruno, who lacked tactical insight, could tell that what Ernest said was true.
And at the same time, everyone knew just how difficult—nearly impossible—that would be.
"We won't always be able to create those situations," Gustav said cautiously once more.
Ernest nodded readily in agreement.
"Yes, you're right. That's why I said we'll do it if possible."
"There's no guarantee the new Battalion Commander will go easy on us like the current one does."
"If we show results, he won't have a choice."
"Gustav, just let it go," Robert interjected as Gustav kept voicing his concerns.
"I might have made him who he is, but he's always been a beast of a man. No matter what others say, he just goes about his own business."
"Second Lieutenant Jitman, it's a bit much to call your superior a beast."
"What's worse is, he actually has the ability to back it up. With a personality as rough and warped as his, how does he even have friends?"
"Platoon Leader… no, Company Commander, I do admit that you're capable, but…"
"Sergeant Gustav, I'd appreciate it if you had denied that my personality is thoroughly warped."
"Anyway, just let him be Honestly, it's better to let that guy run wild on his own than have people meddle with him. I'd rather have Ernest as our Battalion Commander, to be honest. No, it'd be even better if he were the Field Marshal of the Imperial Army. At least then, we wouldn't find ourselves in the middle of some idiotic war with people trying to run on their hands."
At Robert's excessively caustic comment, Gustav scratched the stubbly beard on his chin and sighed.
"Is your chin itchy? I still have some of that medicine left—want some?"
"No... Actually, yes. If you've got any left."
"You should shave."
"I know I should, but..."
With Robert suffering from a skin condition and Gustav soon to follow, their idle banter was enough to show they had no further complaints about Ernest's drastic command style.
Now, there was no one left in the company to stop Ernest. Even Ferdinand, the 1st Company Commander, had no intention of reining him in. Within the battalion, the only ones with more influence than Ernest, a Captain and Company Commander, were the Battalion Commander, a Lieutenant Colonel, and the experienced Captain acting as Section Chief, who was about to be promoted to Major.
And since Ernest had not the slightest intention of earning credit for a promotion, he was perfectly prepared to do as he pleased, no matter what anyone from above might say.
So, unless the next Battalion Commander after Levin personally took to the battlefield, there was no one on the field who could rein Ernest in. In other words, Ernest could do as he pleased.
And if anyone tried to accuse him of insubordination, he'd simply reply, "As the field commander, I made a judgment call."
That should be enough to get by.
As long as he gets results, there's nothing anyone can really do about it.
Demotion?
Dismissal from his post?
Honestly, that's exactly what he wants. If he could just take off his uniform and leave the army quietly, he'd probably even be willing to punch the new Battalion Commander on his way out.
If they took off their insignia and fought fair and square, he was pretty sure he'd win.
Ernest resolved to do exactly what his respected father had done before him.
He didn't care what orders came from above.
If they didn't like it, they could risk their own lives and lead from the front.
The next day, despite Levin's attempts to make contact, the promised reinforcements did not arrive.
Instead, they received a formal personnel order, along with a firm promise that reinforcements would come soon.
That wasn't all—a sudden new development was delivered as well.
"What do you mean, an Artillery Regiment? Weren't the artillery units supposed to be attached to each Infantry Regiment at the battalion level?"
"They say it's for greater specialization and more efficient operation of each branch."
They had expected that artillery battalions would simply be assigned under each infantry regiment, but suddenly, the decision was made to create an Artillery Regiment.
When he heard the news, Levin was understandably troubled.
It seemed the plan was now to have artillery battalions under the Artillery Regiment and assign them in support of each Infantry Regiment as needed.
Branch specialization and efficient operations. I understand. I completely understand. But in a crisis, coordinating opinions with the Artillery Regiment Commander or confusion in the chain of command could make it impossible to respond quickly.
'The Cavalry Regiment alone is enough of a headache, and now we have to deal with the Artillery Regiment too.'
The Cavalry Regiment also supports each Infantry Regiment by assigning battalion-level forces.
However, when battling at the division level, they revert to fighting as full regiments.
Even with cavalry battalions, delays in operations frequently occur due to discord or confusion in the command structure between the Infantry Regiment Commander and the Cavalry Regiment Commander. Now, just thinking about adding the Artillery Regiment Commander into that mess and the chaos sure to follow made Levin feel like his head was about to split open.
"Are there any additional guidelines regarding the chain of command?"
"Yes, sir. Along with the formation of the Artillery Regiment, new directives have been issued stating that when cavalry or artillery battalions are supporting an infantry regiment, command authority is to lie primarily with the Infantry Regiment Commander."
"..."
For a moment, Levin nearly forgot himself and blurted out, "So the Imperial Army Headquarters isn't made up entirely of idiots after all!"
He barely managed to hold it in.
Still, he couldn't stop himself from balling up his fist in relief.
This was a problem that should have been fixed ages ago.
But high-ranking officers from the cavalry branch had foamed at the mouth and stubbornly opposed it, delaying it as long as possible.
Finally, with the creation of the Artillery Regiment, the issue had, at last, been resolved!
It's honestly laughable that they only got around to establishing the Artillery Regiment after we got thrashed by the Belliang artillery waiting beyond the Bertagne Forest and finally managed to break through.
'There's a limit to madness. Hiding key intelligence on the enemy for the sake of war…'
Levin clicked his tongue inwardly as he reflected on the Emperor's misdeeds.
Now, everyone in the military authorities knew the truth.
The Emperor had used the Central Intelligence Agency to steal the Alliance Army's gunpowder manufacturing technology, built up artillery, and then concealed this priceless information to make it seem like the war was still winnable.
Anyone with a brain could have figured it out.
'If they'd only solved the problem of Balt Battery production, the rebellion would have broken out long ago.'
Levin saw right through the state of the Empire, teetering between the Emperor's madness and widespread discontent among the military leadership.
If there had been a Master Baltracher besides the Emperor capable of producing Balt Batteries, the world would be full of people ready to put him forward and turn their guns on Emperor Walter Ulrich Mihahil this very instant.
And if that were to happen, Olaf Cohen, the 2nd Corps Commander who had suffered so much in this latest debacle, would no doubt sacrifice himself to become leader of the Rebel Army.
In any case, this truth was conveyed to the officers of the 1st Battalion as well.
"Phew! What a relief!"
Upon hearing the news, Robert made a show of wiping sweat from his brow in dramatic relief.
"What do you mean?" Bruno asked, tilting his head in puzzlement. In response, Robert replied cheerfully, though his expression showed not a hint of joy.
"It means we're lucky we don't have to coax and coddle those damn bombs ourselves! Firing the artillery is like trying to soothe a crying two-year-old for no reason at all!"
"Well, wouldn't you still find a two-year-old adorable even if they cry for no reason, as long as they're your own child?"
"But artillery isn't my own child; it's a steel monster born from the factory."
"You're right. Absolutely. As Second Lieutenant Jitman said, the best thing to do is keep your distance from that damned monster."
"It's Jimman, actually."
"Yes, Second Lieutenant Jitman."
Having wrapped up their talk about the steel monster born in a factory, Robert and Bruno naturally changed the subject.
"My goodness. At this rate, everyone's really going to think my name is Jitman. Turns out Yurgen did more than just be kind—he also got my name wrong."
"Smoking too much was another one of Yurgen's faults."
"He also talked pretty rough sometimes."
"And he made all of us so terribly sad."
"Looking back, it turns out he had quite a few flaws for an old man."
Each in their own way, they soothed their sorrow and remembered Yurgen.
It would take a long time before they could recall his stories with genuine laughter.
"So, when are we getting reinforcements?"
Leaving Robert and Bruno to chatter away, since they got along so well, Isaac turned to ask Ernest.
"They're set to arrive tomorrow, for now. If nothing comes up, the 5th Division will receive reinforcements tomorrow, and the day after, the 6th and 7th Divisions will fight to push across the plain beyond Bertagne Forest."
"Are we going to fight too?"
"Even with reinforcements, the 5th Division still has a lot of problems to deal with before we can jump right into battle. Our training level has dropped, and with the roads through the forest still not cleared, we can't move cavalry or artillery. For now, all we have to do is wait. If the 6th and 7th Divisions manage to break through onto the plain, the enemy facing the 5th Division will naturally retreat."
At Ernest's words, Isaac let out a sigh of relief.
"Thank goodness. At least we won't have to follow any more orders to stick our heads inside a primed artillery piece."
Thanks to hanging around with Damn Krieger, The Worst Guy Robert, that bastard Jimman, Isaac had picked up a pretty sharp sense of sarcasm himself.
But right after he said it, Isaac caught himself—Jonas had lost his life in that very situation.
"Yes, it really is a relief."
Ernest felt the sadness well up, but he didn't push it down. At the same time, he didn't let himself get overwhelmed or angry either. He simply let himself feel the sorrow as it was, replying to Isaac in a calm voice.
"Anyway, we're due for reinforcements tomorrow, so it's best to mentally prepare yourselves just a bit."
"Mental preparation? Us?"
At Ernest's words, Bruno—who'd been joking around with Robert—looked at Ernest with wide eyes and asked.
He pointed back and forth between his own chest and Isaac.
Ernest gave a wry smile.
"Bruno, just because someone's an officer with advanced military training doesn't mean they're all capable and level-headed. I mean, I'm still just a seventeen-year-old greenhorn myself."
"...R-right!"
Bruno awkwardly agreed, realizing that after Ferdinand, Ernest was probably the least seventeen-looking seventeen-year-old in the 1st Battalion.
It was hard for Bruno to accept that he was actually a year older than Ernest.
How could this guy possibly be seventeen?
"I just hope we get someone normal for once..."
Ever since he'd heard Ernest's words, Isaac had been mumbling what sounded like prayers.
If they got another guy like Paul, he was sure he wouldn't be able to handle it.
Well, at least Paul's a Baltracher, so you could beat some sense into him and still make use of him—but if the new Platoon Leader in charge of leading a whole platoon turned out to be like that, it'd really be an absolute nightmare.
"No kidding."
Ernest, who as the new Company Commander would be the immediate superior to the incoming New Platoon Leader, felt just as much of a headache.
He didn't want much.
If only the new guy could be as dependable as Ferdinand, as sociable as Robert, as gentle as Jonas, and as cautious as Ernest himself—that would be enough.
And if it turned out to be another standoffish noble young master like Wilfried, he'd honestly feel like giving him a good knock on the head, so hopefully the new guy was nothing like Wilfried.
Thinking about it, his expectations might have been a bit much, but since the people he was using as benchmarks—including himself—were all still just seventeen-year-old greenhorns, it probably wasn't unreasonable.
And if not… oh well…