The Saga of Tanya the Evil, Vol. 4: Dabit Deus His Quoque Finem

by Carlo Zen

  From what I heard, the Salamander is adorable and very clever. If you show it affection, it’ll even get attached to you. Like a German shepherd, it can become a trustworthy member of the family.

  Sometimes it begs or plays tricks, but apparently, everyone ends up overlooking those things. Of course, Mrs. Legen grew angry and screamed that it went too far, but…

  Well, in the end, everyone doted on the Salamander. Because when it’s even more reliable than a German shepherd, how could you not?

  At some point, though, the Salamander’s requests and pranks grew to be too much. But what do you think happened when no one was sympathetic to dependable Mrs. Legen, who had continued to angrily scold it the whole time?

  That’s right.

  No one was able to stop the Salamander! Of course, the Salamander loved and cherished everyone.

  But sadly, there was no one to teach it right from wrong.

  So the Salamander never realized that everyone disliked it. Soon it had exhausted everyone’s patience.

  But allow me to say, “Even so…”

  Unfortunately, upon a closer look, the Salamander seemed very strong. It was like a German shepherd, after all.

  Everyone started to wonder, What should we do?

  The tale ends differently depending on who tells it.

  But after hearing this story, parents can say this to their kids:

  “Tom, aren’t you being a bit of a Salamander?”

  Incidentally, I asked the former soldier who told me this story, and he said the Salamander is actually children. Even soldiers have families. And I’ve heard that some of them who left their kids behind on the home front ended up spoiling them.

  Yes, it must just be the perennial problem of parents around the world, these various worries about their children.

  And so the moral of today’s story is “Don’t spoil your kids too much.” Promise me you won’t.

  Now then, where did this legend come from?

  You may be surprised to hear the answer is the battlefield.

  It’s a story that spread among soldiers during the Great War. But what is it about?

  The truth seems to be, as just mentioned briefly, that soldiers on the front were thinking of their families at home. In other words, since they couldn’t see their children, they ended up sending them too many presents and spoiling them.

  So when the war ended and they went home, they were shocked to find their children transformed into total brats. And thus, we have anecdotes about the scolding of Salamander kids on the first Christmas after coming home.

  Well, today we took a look at a timely story left to us from the war. I hope you can enjoy it when we take a bit of a different approach now and then.

  Have a good day.

  JUNE 27, UNIFIED YEAR 1926, GENERAL STAFF OFFICE MAIN BUILDING

  Having swiftly relocated from the General Staff’s recuperation facility to an office she was given in the main building in the capital, Tanya grapples with a sheaf of papers that spells out how not her way the situation is going.

  She’s been fearing Lieutenant General von Zettour’s frightening remark about “newbies with a little bit thicker skin” but has been able to instinctively escape the terror temporarily by resolutely getting through all the procedures to set up the unit.

  But now the moment when she must face that fear has arrived.

  When First Lieutenant Grantz, whom she had sent running all over the General Staff office as a gofer, requests permission to enter, she is already prepared. When he quietly puts the envelope he has just received from the nearby Service Corps onto her desk, she realizes the foretold documents have arrived.

  When Tanya opens the carefully sealed envelope, all her resolve is for naught, and her face stiffens.

  For a moment, her white porcelainlike fingers tremble, and she stares at the list as if it’s her sworn enemy.

  What Grantz delivered was the list of units the General Staff had on hand and the personnel they could offer Tanya, which she had requested out of anxiety.

  Considering how scared she was of Zettour’s remark about thick-skinned newbies, she had braced herself for an awful allotment of troops. Well, she thought she had braced herself.

  But when she actually takes a look, her readiness scatters to the wind.

  “Of all the things…they could have given us…we get a newly formed second reserve infantry battalion with no combat experience and a company of replacement artillery?” she murmurs in a shaking voice. Am I misreading it? She stares down at the document, but the letters she sees don’t change.

  She’s just barely able to control herself because Grantz is still standing by, but if she had her way, she would have ripped the list to shreds and hurled it into the wastepaper basket.

  “W-we compromised on an armored unit…we compromised…but this is the newbie infantry battalion they give me?”

  As far as she was told, the plan was to give the Salamander Kampfgruppe, with the 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion as its key unit, a unit of infantry that could handle field engineer missions plus a company of supporting artillery. And despite being newly formed, they would be allotted an armored company.

  Apparently, she has no choice in the matter. But it’s pretty awful to be getting a newly formed pile of amateurs. As someone about to be flung into the east, notorious as a fierce fighting ground, she would like to protest. Even Grantz and the others she’d taken care of on the Rhine were trained before getting thrown in.

  But these guys nowadays are drilled so quickly, “forced culturing” still seems too mild a metaphor.

  “…This is not a joke.”

  She has an opinion or two, but having been told the war is bearing down on them, she has no choice but to accept things as they are. That’s why she at least wanted decent infantry, but…from the document, it seems like that’s out of the question.

  Still, everything has limits, including how much one can tolerate.

  The list in her hands is so awful that Tanya’s graceful features warp as if she’s been suddenly struck with a headache.

  “This isn’t funny! Infantry and artillery we can’t even use for war?! I’m not even sure we could use them as shields! Have the General Staff officers mistaken me for some kind of recycling factory?!”

  Grantz stands stiffly at attention next to her as she explodes, and his face twitches.

  Well, it’s no wonder. That’s just how bad things are.

  It’s unclear whether this new unit will be of any use. On top of that, its core firepower, the replacement artillery, has ridiculously outdated guns. They probably scraped the bottom of the barrel for these guys.

  Well, it’s better than a completely new unit, but I’m still anxious about their gear and ability. Having thought that far, she can’t find any point in thinking further.

  She judges that anything more would just be griping. Ah, I thought bankers were the ones who had to do legwork, she mutters to herself as she stands up. But since she has no choice, she sets off to tough out the legwork of consulting with the General Staff about personnel.

  I never thought I’d have to do this sort of thing in the army, she laments internally as she, accompanied by stiff-faced Grantz, makes a raid on the General Staff Equipment Section.

  She grabs a group leader–class major who happens to be there and, while reproaching him for his easygoing work style, protests with a calm demeanor even as her resolve is unyielding.

  To wit: “Unless we get the equipment we need to perform the General Staff’s investigative research, we won’t be able to meet their expectations.”

  Of course, not even Tanya wants to pick fights with staff in the rear. So though she protests, she keeps strict control of herself and doesn’t deviate from proper etiquette.

  …At least, not until the group leader says something he shouldn’t have.

  “You can say what you like, Colonel, but it’s not as if we don’t understand the hardship of the front. We always take great pai
ns with our work, so I wish you would appreciate that. We do the best we can to issue equipment according to the quality of the troops.”

  The moment the major spouts that nonsense, relaxing on a sofa, drinking real coffee, Grantz—who is standing next to Tanya when she breathes an “Oh?”—unconsciously takes a step back. Later, he would whisper to the others that she had lost her temper.

  “…What a terrific joke I’ve just heard.”

  It’s a bureaucrat’s reply, and not from an exhausted bureaucrat but an officer from the rear brimming with energy.

  Tanya has a smile plastered on her face as a formality, but her tolerance has reached its boiling point. Casting off any semblance of politesse, her face goes expressionless, and she takes a step closer as she opens her mouth in a murderous rage.

  “A battalion with no veterans?! If you’re saying that’s the best you can do, it would make more sense to replace you with a cat!”

  Most of the personnel on the list are either reserves or brand-new recruits. The veterans who should be the key members pretty much all fall on the lowest level of the army’s evaluation scale. There are some NCOs who might be worth their salt, but they’ve only just recovered from their Rhine wounds.

  Considering their decline in physical strength and how long they’ve been out of it, she’s pretty much at wits’ end. Honestly, at this rate, puppets to use as decoys would have been better.

  “And the 15 cm guns may be 15 cm, but the old model? Not the new ones? That means their all-important range will be glaringly inferior. Maybe my battalion and the Equipment Section should have a live-ammo exercise?” Tanya continues, radiating waves of murder at the increasingly pale-faced Equipment Section major. “If we had a shoot-out, I think you’d get your shit together pretty quick!”

  She can’t believe they were so superficial as to look only at the 15 cm and none of the other specs. If this idiot is going to say that was their best work, then to Tanya, they’re incorrigible slackers.

  It’s insane to request someone to build up their firepower with old guns that have a short range. Tanya has too much experience suffering suppressive artillery fire on the Rhine, so a wave of bitterness is rising inside her at having a limit on how well they can compete when it comes to their own artillery.

  Which is why, when they try to force this on her…

  “Listen, Major. It’s a bit hard to take that from the numbskull hanging my unit and me out to dry with inferior equipment when he’s lounging like that!”

  These guys from the rear who have never experienced a trench battle can’t possibly understand the fear of being outranged.

  “M-my apologies, Colonel, but we’re doing our best to—”

  “This is your best?! This isn’t a joke. The Imperial Army General Staff doesn’t need a mouth; it needs combat experience. The armored unit is a bit better. But IV Ds? On top of not packing much punch, those have weak armor!”

  She openly bombards him with her anger. Did he think I wouldn’t understand anything about armored unit equipment?

  I can’t believe he gave us the IV D tank—it’s an old model already being used for training and security in the rear! Maybe if we were an instructor unit or a security squad, but for a unit that will be worked like horses out front on the pretext of investigative research, this is intolerable.

  Tanya is getting posted to the forward-most line, not occupied territory. Maybe partisans won’t bring out anti-tank guns and heavy artillery, but on the main lines, the enemy’s big guns, air forces, and mages come out saying, What can your armored troops do against us?

  “…Don’t you have extra Gs like the ones they’re using on the southern continent?”

  If we don’t at least get the current G model, we won’t be able to do shit on the front lines. And luckily for Tanya, she received a personal letter from Corps Commander von Romel the other day.

  What she heard from him was anger at the interruption of supplies and fear that the situation would only grow worse. And according to him, though the wear and tear on the tanks is minimal, they’re in desperate need of fuel and ammunition.

  But, he wrote, the Equipment Section won’t change the ratio of tanks to other supplies. She had replied that bureaucratically it didn’t make sense, but here we are. It’s absolutely true.

  “Please don’t be unreasonable, Colonel! There aren’t any extra supplies anywhere!”

  The reply she receives is simple: There is no surplus. But Tanya knows that General von Romel refused two companies’ worth of model Gs and said he wanted fuel.

  “The Fifth Light Division on the southern continent owes me. I want their allotment of Gs. Send them the equivalent amount of fuel on their ship instead.”

  Tanya would be happy to get the equipment she needs. Romel would be happy to get the fuel he urgently needs. This is a proposal based on utilitarian logic that will make everyone happy.

  Think about it. No one loses in this exchange. Only a Commie would refuse a deal like this. I can’t understand an irrational refusal at all.

  If humans slack off in their pursuit of happiness, then that’s it for them.

  “Do you mean that?! That’s absurd! How many rules are you trying to make us break?”

  Rule breaking? Tanya scoffs, thinking, I’m sure you can manage to break any rule you want. Contrary to what you might expect, if you look for the holes, rules are full of ways to justify your aims.

  “Wait, maybe they’re called the 211th Armored Division now. In any case, you should be able to give us the tanks on your discretion. I’ll explain to General von Romel personally.”

  “If you can, then please do.”

  Who will be responsible for this? That is the look on the major’s face as those words slip out of his mouth. What a careless idiot. Tanya smirks, seizing on his commitment.

  “Oh? Then it’s decided.”

  I can’t believe he couldn’t even manage an equivocal reply!

  With a splendid grin, Tanya produces from her breast pocket a letter she has only just received from Romel.

  “Excuse me, Colonel, but what’s this?”

  “It’s a personal letter, but that’s fine. I’ll let you read it, so give me what you’re supposed to.”

  “Huh?”

  Tanya thrusts the letter from the dear army corps commander she just said she would explain things to under the dazed numbskull’s nose.

  When she’d received it the other day, she never dreamed she would use it like this. The connections you have can be handy in the most unexpected ways. Tanya reflects on how human society is ultimately about those connections, thankful for the one she has with General von Romel.

  And since the major doesn’t seem to grasp the situation, Tanya is kind enough to read the letter to him.

  “I’ll tell you what General von Romel said. ‘If they won’t make it here anyhow, I’d rather you use them.’ By the way, I propose allotting him some ammunition and fuel.”

  Then she hits the stiffened major with her trump card.

  “Deputy Director of the Service Corps General von Zettour has approved this idea, but…if you have a reason to reject it, I’d like to hear it.”

  Being a little pushy is fine.

  That’s what happens when you do what it takes.

  Tanya brandishes the draft to which Lieutenant General von Zettour gave tacit approval, and she can see from the Equipment Section group leader’s frozen expression that he’s beginning to understand.

  “Okay, let me confirm with you, Major. I’d really appreciate it if you’d understand and respect my request…”

  It’s a request for a loan of firepower from the commander of a Kampfgruppe who reports directly to General Staff with support of the Service Corps boss, already agreed to by the army corps commander.

  “O-of course, on behalf of the Equipment Section, I can say that we’d like to cooperate as much as possible, but, Colonel.”

  “‘But, Colonel’?”

  Is something wrong? Tan
ya asks with her gaze. In response, the Equipment Section group leader is disappointingly silent. Since he doesn’t have a counterargument, Tanya senses she can push him around as long as she watches to make sure he’s obeying.

  Swindling a company of model Gs out of a manager in the bureaucratic Equipment Section shouldn’t be a problem. At least, she cleared that hurdle.

  But then she has a thought.

  I’m never going to get along with this guy. In that case, maybe it makes sense to treat this as a zero-sum game and get as much as I can out of him.

  “While I’m here…”

  There is only action. After all, asking doesn’t cost anything.

  “I’d like to request your assistance regarding the loot we seized from the Republic in the big push in the West. There were tanks, weren’t there?”

  “Huh? Oh, er, well, yes.”

  “So we should have armored vehicles in reserve, right? I’d like those, too. Since they’re just stolen goods, anyhow, it’s not like the army will use them officially, so it should be possible.”

  “Y-you’ll have to excuse me, Colonel von Degurechaff, but you already have infantry and an armored unit. I can’t give you additional armored vehicles…”

  Unfortunately for the major insisting that he can’t break the rules, Tanya is versed in all their details. This guy’s declaring it can’t be done with the bravado of one who just cut off a demon’s head. I feel bad for him.

  “I’d like you to fix the self-propelled guns. Regulations state that weapons can be repaired on the spot with the commander’s authorization. The armored vehicles aren’t for the infantry but to improve the outdated guns we have. So could you please promptly provide the fuel and vehicles?”

  Yes, demanding to replace the old guns with new ones is impossible, but efforts to improve them are within the authority of the commander. Fixing guns to the armored vehicles seized from the Republic to make self-propelled guns surely counts as improvement.

  These vehicles are being stored because there is no use for them, anyhow, so unless the General Staff has some logical reason to reject her proposal, it should be approved. In that case, they’ll run on fuel, so she’ll need an additional allotment of supplies, too.