by Carlo Zen
"...Maybe what we have is better than nothing. Lieutenant Serebryakov, do you think the measures we've taken are good enough?"
"...Regardless of how things go in November, it'll probably be rough in the long run. I imagine the situation will get dicey in January and February once it really gets cold."
Tanya understands what her troubled adjutant is saying between the lines. "It was a mistake to not anticipate needing to fight a winter battle in Federation territory. I guess even for the Service Corps led by General von Zettour, shipping existing cold-weather gear to us is the best they can do."
That said, it's the same thing as the headquarters not understanding what conditions are like out in the field.
Since no research was done on what a winter battle in the Federation would be like, they ended up sending cold-weather gear that was only marginally better than nothing. Whether socks, underwear, or anything else, the gear was based on the environment the home country expected rather than the realities on the ground.
It's better than not getting anything. I have to admit that.
Half a loaf is better than none.
"I'm not sure whether the Service Corps slipped up here or if we should be relieved that they came through with the bare minimum at all."
There's no question that they're taking what measures they can with the limited railroad situation, pushing the supply lines to their breaking points. I can tell the higher-ups are putting in an uncommon amount of effort.
Still, to Tanya, the problem is clear.
"It's still not enough."
A thin overcoat won't cut it. The leadership may be working hard, but these results won't do.
These clothes simply weren't designed for cold that sinks into bones. Maybe if we layered up, we would finally be able to protect ourselves. Hard work may be noble, but if results aren't forthcoming, it's just wasted effort.
"How about procuring our own cold-weather gear?"
"...We're working on it using classified funds. Mainly we've bought stolen Federation gear from the Council for Self-Government, but they don't have much to spare."
"So even if we have the money, there's nothing to buy, huh?"
"No." Lieutenant Serebryakov shakes her head regretfully.
Tanya lightly waves off her apology. "It's not your fault."
The Council for Self-Government established in Federation territory should have a whole pile of cold-weather gear.
Should...?
Considering all the disputes popping up here and there during the war, there must be some truth in their claim that they don't have a sizable stockpile.
I guess we have to be glad we were able to get what we got.
"If the items don't exist, then it's no wonder we can't procure them... Let's just hope the home country will send us socks made for the Federation's weather."
My irritation is growing more severe as the cold deepens.
"General Winter, huh?" Tanya mumbles to herself with her coffee cup at her lips.
Frostbite and the cold feature in any book about war or history.
Lieutenant Colonel Tanya von Degurechaff knows better than the others what the effects of winter will be...but a picture is still worth a thousand words.
"This is a huge pain. I can't imagine what it'll be like just from reading about it in books. I guess it's only natural, then, that I'd long for spring."
She intended to say that only to herself, but Serebryakov answers as if she had been addressed. "Don't forget about General Mud, Colonel."
Setting down her half-finished coffee, Tanya nods.
"General Mud? Ohhh, I see. When the snow melts, it'll be a mess as well."
She doesn't even have to look out the window.
Snow is a crystallization of moisture.
Once warmed up, the result would hardly differ from someone splashing water all over the ground.
"He has a tendency to be underestimated, but I think General Mud might actually be a greater threat to the Empire than General Winter."
It's logic she can agree with. Mud is incredibly troublesome. No wonder the German-Soviet lines in the east were cursed as a swamp.
But I still have to wonder about Serebryakov's opinion. When I remember all the stories of how much trouble the cold caused the Germans, it makes me think we should be more worried about surviving the winter.
"You have a point, but there's room for doubt in that conclusion. I think our greatest challenge will be getting through the winter."
"With all due respect, I disagree."
"Hmm, tell me more about your position."
It's rare for Tanya's adjutant to hold out so stubbornly, so she is particularly interested to hear what she has to say. Serebryakov is an outstanding soldier, and more than that, she's an officer who is quite well-informed on most issues connected to the Federation.
It's possible that she knows the military maps better than most everyone.
"The Imperial Army is too dependent on mobility, and we're no exception, Colonel."
"From the time our military was founded, its doctrine was the optimization of the interior lines strategy. It's not an exaggeration to say that mobility is part of our organization's very makeup."
"Which is why we won't be compatible with a battlefield where we can't maneuver."
Tanya nods as if to say, That makes sense... I guess this is another harmful effect of the Imperial Army's Galápagos syndrome.
"...You mean a swamp, huh? I see. I guess it does sound a bit more concerning than General Winter. But the mud will slow down the Federation Army's large units, as well."
But she refutes her own words the moment they're out of her mouth. "So it's just the difference between human wave tactics and a mobile battle? Try as it might, the latter can't escape the impact of the environment... So the major offensive the General Staff is planning for spring is also at risk?" Hmm, she thinks and nods, then laughs off her own comment. "If we make it through the winter, that is."
In Japan, they say that if you speak of the future, malevolent gods laugh...but even as someone who doesn't believe in malevolent gods, I see merit in the idea that there is a limit to human knowledge and foresight. It's pointless for the General Staff to be planning a major spring offensive when so many of us are stressing about how to protect ourselves from the coming cold.
"All right, Lieutenant Serebryakov. Your view is quite interesting. I'd like you to write it up as a report. I'll try submitting it to the General Staff."
"A-are you sure?"
"I'm pretty sure I haven't turned into such a narrow-minded commander that I would ignore sound reasoning. Staff officers, myself included, have a tendency to pursue doctrine optimization to extremes. Additionally, if we criticize the higher-ups with the views of an officer in the field, I'm sure they'll listen. After all, you've worked your way up the ladder. Since you don't have any weird preconceptions of how things should be, you can offer a fresh perspective."
In other words, a deconstructed view.
Every last one of the officers in the General Staff was trained at the war college to cultivate and perfect the same way of thinking. For better or worse, the homogeneity of ideas leads to a weakness against the unexpected.
It's like an immune system. Specializing to handle only one pathogen means that any other disease can wipe it out.
"Variety is the essential factor in winning a war."
Problematically... Tanya conveys the fact of the matter she can't put into words via an expression like she had sucked a dozen lemons.
...the Empire has become too homogenous.
Their home country is a war machine of unparalleled precision, but by its nature, it is overly specialized in interior lines strategy---in other words, operations within its own territory. If these unanticipated foreign campaigns continue, that problematic contradiction will grow to a point where brilliance in the field can no longer make up for it. A little precision in an organization can actually make it harder to correct distort
ions.
We're about as unlucky as you can get.
There are so many problems with equipment that's optimized only for the climate and terrain of our home country. The more I think about it, the more those issues seem to pile up.
"...Are we reaching the saturation point?"
Before Tanya realizes it, she's practically groaning. Turning her leaden eyes to the scene outside the window, she sees the unit covered in flurries of white as the soldiers struggle to distribute supplies.
"This snow is really a curse... I guess those who came before us said that weather was the most formidable factor."
The accumulating snow is already disturbing. Whoever said, When it rains, it pours, really knew what they were talking about. Even after all this melts, the Imperial Army will be trapped in the quagmire.
"It won't be anything to laugh at when the earth itself becomes unreliable."
Neither the infantry, the armored units, nor the horses and trains used for transportation can escape what happens on the ground.
Aerial mages are an exception in the Imperial Army, whereas armor is the main thrust; the ground troops are liable to have their mobile combat units stuck fighting a war against the mud.
Until Serebryakov pointed it out to me, I was too focused on the immediate problem of making it through the winter. This tunnel vision is worrying.
"I'm terrified of armored unit attrition---to the point that I don't even want to think about what might happen. It's a bigger problem than the limits of our maintenance capabilities... This is...simply hopeless."
The Empire's armored units were formed under the assumption that they would be deployed domestically. To put it another way, it's assumed that they'll operate in environments where maintenance facilities are relatively nearby. In the east, that's a dream beyond hope.
"In the end, we'll be swallowed by the mud?"
As Tanya grumbles, she looks up at the ceiling.
The Imperial Army General Staff may not be as clueless as Being X, but that doesn't change the fact that it's struggling with a change to its business model.
"Lieutenant Serebryakov, in the list of equipment that the Council for Self-Government or whatever can offer us...was there anything about maintenance facilities?"
"There are two if it's for simpler Federation-made vehicles they seized. I'm sure there was something in the official notice about that. But..." She shakes her head apologetically. "There still aren't any factories where we can fix our own vehicles. We're operating under the assumption that anything damaged beyond what the repair company can handle will be sent back to the rear."
"And where do we get the truck that can do that kind of recovery mission?"
"According to the report..."
But Tanya doesn't need to ask Serebryakov to know. She's being sarcastic. With a look of disappointment and not so much as a chuckle, Tanya answers her own question. "You don't need to answer that, Lieutenant."
"Do you know already?"
This is what it means to have to wince, like, clearly.
"Having been operating the tank recovery vehicles at full capacity for so long, there's no lack of rumors that they're down, too. It's painfully obvious."
So many tanks have broken down that we need a vehicle to recover the tank recovery vehicle. That's the harsh reality we must face.
At least I can wash it down with bitter coffee, she thinks, reaching for her cup, but right as she takes a sip...
The phone line she recently had the field engineers install begins to ring.
Perhaps Serebryakov intends to give Tanya time to finish her coffee, because she moves to answer it. She has a brief exchange with the caller before summarizing for Tanya. "Captain Ahrens has a suggestion for you."
Tanya says she'll take the call and reaches for the receiver.
The signal quality itself is good.
But when she gets the report from one of her trusted commanders, she has the feeling there is noise mixed in.
"Due to a shortage of antifreeze, the number of realistically operable tanks has plummeted?"
"Yes, that's correct, Commander," her subordinate answers, his voice coming through clear. If that wasn't the case, she really would have asked again.
"...So? How many do we have?"
"In terms of combat ability, all tanks are functional as cannons."
"What I want to know is how many we can use in maneuvers. Can we assume they're all fit for combat maneuvers?"
"We have so little antifreeze. Honestly, it's impossible for all of them to sortie fully operational."
"How many can?"
He must not want to say. In a reluctant voice, Ahrens conveys the numbers the company of tanks is facing. "Six. Plus another five more we can probably get moving somehow."
"Wait, Captain Ahrens." She interrupts his report without thinking. "The most optimistic estimate you can give me, out of a unit of twenty-four, is eleven?"
"As you say, ma'am."
His report, delivered as if he were frozen solid, causes Tanya to furrow her brow in spite of herself. When she absentmindedly lifts her cup to her mouth, the coffee is already gone.
Clicking her tongue, she glances at Serebryakov to order a refill and then turns her attention back to the receiver.
"That's quite a shock, Captain Ahrens. You're essentially combat ineffective, then?"
The Salamander Kampfgruppe has a single armored company.
The number of tanks originally assigned the company was twenty-four.
And now, even an optimistic estimate says that over half are immobile. In other words, not even 50 percent are left. From a military perspective, that's annihilation.
At least it's not as if we lost tankers, who take many hours to train. If we could acquire vehicles for them, reorganizing the company wouldn't be difficult. That's the only silver lining in this whole mess.
Still...
Tanya feels dizzy but can't stop herself from asking, "The problem can't be wear and tear from combat, so how did this happen?"
"We're experiencing too much mechanical trouble. We have nearly a full complement of tanks with twenty-one vehicles, but we're not sure when we'll be able to repair the ten that have broken down."
"What do the factories say? Never mind, I already know. It's chaos. Their schedule has been slammed with requests from the entire army for a while now."
"Yes." Captain Ahrens's voice is strained. Of course it is, I think internally, wincing with the realization that Tanya's face must be tense as well.
"...General Winter is a terrible foe, isn't it? This is what it means for something to be worse than the stories. It's probably safer to think of it as a particular environment, like Norden."
"I barely have any experience in Norden. Formally, I did some training there, but it only consisted of patrolling the border during summer."
"This is what we get for pushing people through the accelerated program, huh?"
The shortened program was designed to cover the critical points for the moment, but it clearly wasn't up to snuff. At the same time, the General Staff can't really be blamed. They're doing the best they can under the circumstances.
In fact, Captain Ahrens is an outstanding officer.
Disciplined officers who can resolutely lead from the front when the need arises are precious. You could safely call him the ideal armored forces specialist.
The problem is that there's a limit even to that. Accelerated training is inescapably biased. When the program is too focused on achieving quick results, their investments in human capital become too specialized in a single field.
She can't help but anticipate that a lack of variation in personnel development will come back to bite them hard in the long run. To put it in extremes, it's like building an entire accounting department out of people with abacus credentials.
It's not as if abacus skills are completely useless, but it's clear that reeducation is necessary if the circumstances change. If those accountants learn something
besides abacus, there could still be use for them yet.
But if they never do, that's a different story.
"Captain Ahrens, setting aside the issue of poor development of human capital, let's get back on topic. We should focus on flexing what military might we have on hand. Listen, we know how fragile these tanks are in the cold they weren't designed for. I want to hear what you think we should do about it."
"About that, I actually have a provisional solution."
"Oh?" Tanya sips the coffee Serebryakov has brought, only to choke in the next instant. "D-diesel as a coolant?!"
I get that we're out of antifreeze, but this man wants to use diesel in its place?
"Yes, Colonel. It's what we've come up with, so we'd like to try this if it's all right with you."
"Captain Ahrens, I want you to explain this to me. I'm sure we're getting periodic shipments of diesel to use as tank fuel. It makes sense that we probably have some stocked up, but..." Tanya is utterly serious as she questions him over the line. "It's diesel, you know? You're planning to pour it in as antifreeze?"
"At the most basic level, in the absence of proper antifreeze, some other similar liquid is fine. I checked with the mechanics, and diesel should achieve the bare minimum of what we need."
"But that diesel isn't made for cold weather. I have no idea what the mechanics are thinking."
Ahrens starts to explain further, but Tanya cuts him off.
"No, proposal rejected. Listen," she continues. "The coolant pipes probably don't even have the coating to handle nonstandard substances. Are you saying it's fine to circulate diesel fuel so close to a diesel engine?"
The plan is difficult to fathom for Tanya.
They say necessity is the mother of invention, but isn't this a bit reckless? She furrows her brow. If they weren't speaking over the phone, she would have unreservedly sent him a look questioning his sanity.
"...I'd like to request permission to test this on one of the tanks currently in maintenance."
"All right, hold on a minute, Captain Ahrens. If you're that serious, I'll consider it. You really have to do this?"
"My apologies, but please consider it."
When Tanya's eyes flit toward the window, the view that greets her is that of a land consumed by snow.
