After a brief period of contemplation, General Mackensen brought the topic back.
The usual calm had returned to his face, but his eyes held sothing Morin couldn’t quite decipher.
“The next thing I’m going to tell you, you are not to laugh after hearing it…”
General Mackensen’s words left Morin a little confused, but he nodded in agreent.
“Due to the recent defeat in the Battle of Madrid, the pressure on the General Staff is imnse. His Majesty the Emperor also expressed dissatisfaction with the Army’s performance.”
General Mackensen’s tone was flat, as if stating sothing irrelevant to himself—though, to so extent, the loss at Madrid indeed had little to do with him.
“However, looking at the final outco, although we suffered heavy losses, we ultimately held the crucial Seville and heavily damaged the Britannian elite forces. This is extrely valuable for internal propaganda.”
Morin nodded; he understood all this.
Losing naturally required soone to take the bla—such as Prittwitz, the forr commander of the Expeditionary Force, or perhaps it was his fault all along.
The man had been relieved of his duty and sent back ho imdiately after Mackensen returned with his troops.
Morin wondered what kind of connections this man had, to only be relieved of his duty after causing such a huge ss…
(In another tiline, Prittwitz, dubbed ‘the worst German general of World War I,’ was only dismissed after ordering a large-scale retreat and abandoning East Prussia on the Eastern Front.)
And if they won, they certainly had to widely publicize it to boost morale and public support.
“Therefore, the General Staff hopes to use this victory to cultivate so ‘combat heroes’ to promote as examples of the bravery and skill of the Imperial military.”
At this point, General Mackensen, who was known for his seriousness, showed a strange expression—a desire to laugh that he was trying hard to suppress.
He cleared his throat and continued, “I conveyed this order from the General Staff to other operational units, and also to the 16th Brigade.”
“And then…”
He paused, seemingly organizing his words, or perhaps reliving his feelings when he first saw the report.
“One of the ‘combat heroes’ nominated by the 16th Infantry Brigade was you, Second Lieutenant Friedrich Morin.”
Mackensen could no longer contain himself as he said this, the corners of his mouth uncontrollably turning up.
It was hard to imagine what expression the strictly serious Saxon veteran would wear upon seeing the junior officer he had always considered a headache and a typical example of a rich playboy…
Suddenly transform into a combat hero nominated by the troops.
The scene must have been spectacular.
Morin was also stunned.
While he certainly played a role in the fighting, he felt Captain Hauser and the fallen soldiers were more deserving of the title of combat hero than he was.
“What? You don’t believe it yourself?” Mackensen teased, watching his expression.
“Reporting, General, I only feel… undeserving. Without the valiant fighting of the other soldiers, the tactical concepts I proposed would have been nothing but empty talk,” Morin said truthfully.
“There’s no need to feel undeserving, but modesty is good. I really should have forced you to join the army earlier.”
Morin: “…”
Mackensen waved his hand and continued:
“But this is the unanimous recomndation of the 16th Brigade staff and all surviving officers. Your combat rits are undeniable, laid out for all to see.”
“Furthermore, you are now a spellcaster.”
General Mackensen added:
“A spellcaster who awakened on the battlefield is inherently legendary, which fits the taste of those in the Imperial Army propaganda departnt perfectly.”
Silence fell between the two for a while.
A mont later, Mackensen dropped the smile, and his expression beca solemn again.
“Morin, the 16th Brigade suffered severe casualties this ti, especially among mid- and low-level officers. More than two-thirds were killed in action, leaving many company command positions vacant…”
Morin’s heart began to race. He knew the inevitable was finally here.
“So, considering your combat rits, to support the propaganda, and to fill the vacant officer positions…”
Mackensen looked at him, saying word for word:
“You will be promoted to First Lieutenant and assigned as the Company Commander of the 1st Company, 1st Battalion, 32nd Infantry Regint.”
Morin, who had anticipated this, remained outwardly composed, listening quietly.
“A Second Lieutenant, just graduated from military academy, promoted to First Lieutenant 21 days after joining his company… This speed, which breaks Army promotion records, is in itself an excellent propaganda point.”
General Mackensen added:
“The Army propaganda departnt hopes to use your example to inspire more young officers in the military, especially the descendants of the military aristocracy, to ignite their passion for battle and achieve great deeds for the Empire…”
Morin asked curiously, “Does that still need to be inspired?”
“Do you think you’re the only ‘playboy’ in places like Dresden, Potsdam, and Munich?”
“…”
General Mackensen continued: “The current situation is becoming increasingly turbulent by the day. The whole of Europa is a powder keg, and no one knows when the next full-scale war will erupt.”
“But since the victory in the last war with the Gauls, the younger generation of the Empire has beco increasingly complacent. This is a very dangerous sign…”
The old General seed to have found a rare conversation partner and discussed many current affairs with Morin.
Morin listened honestly but did not express any opinions, rely watching his system’s information collection progress slowly increase.
After the two spoke like ordinary senior and junior officers for a while, General Mackensen suddenly changed the subject.
“There is one more thing… I’m not sure if I should tell you.”
“Why?” Morin asked, puzzled.
“Because I’m worried that after you know, you’ll beco arrogant and go back to being the reckless brat you used to be,” Mackensen said bluntly.
Morin imdiately looked resigned.
Seeing his frustrated expression, Mackensen finally spoke.
“Sigh, never mind… you are now an officer who has faced life and death. I trust you can maintain a proper mindset.”
The old General sighed, then lowered his voice.
“His Imperial Highness the Crown Prince has taken notice of you.”
“His Imperial Highness?” Morin was surprised.
“Yes.”
Mackensen nodded, his expression becoming especially serious.
“His Imperial Highness hopes to use this opportunity to push for a reform in tactical thinking within the Army.”
“Tactical reform?” Morin vaguely guessed what was coming.
“The point you raised earlier about the vulnerability of dense formations against modern firearms was actually noted by so insightful people in the General Staff as far back as when the Britannians paid a heavy price in the Boer Wars.”
Mackensen explained:
“At that ti, the General Staff attempted so small-scale tactical reform pilots, but they were too disruptive to traditional infantry tactics and lacked sufficiently compelling combat examples, so they ultimately ca to nothing.”
“This ti, after your combat report from Seville was submitted, many of the tactical details were recognized by His Imperial Highness the Crown Prince and so of the younger staff officers.”
“They believe this might be the direction of future Army tactical developnt.”
Mackensen looked at Morin, his eyes filled with expectation.
“Therefore, His Highness hopes to use the 16th Infantry Brigade as a testing ground, starting here, to gradually implent new tactical thinking.”
“However, there has only been the battle of Seville so far, so the persuasiveness is not yet strong enough… you understand what I an?”
Hearing Mackensen’s words, Morin nodded. He naturally understood the old General’s aning—
The war wasn’t over yet, so don’t expect to rest…
Mackensen: “Your exceptional promotion is both a reward for your rits and a signal from His Imperial Highness to the entire Army—a signal that supports reform and encourages innovation.”
Morin finally understood. His promotion this ti was not only because of his combat rits and status as a spellcaster, but also because he had inadvertently beco a banner for the Crown Prince’s military reform agenda, but…
Morin: “First, I must state that I’m not greedy for rewards… but since the news has reached His Imperial Highness the Crown Prince, wouldn’t only one rank promotion seem a bit stingy?”
Hearing Morin’s words, Mackensen burst out laughing in exasperation.
“Hahahaha, are you suggesting His Highness should promote you directly to a field-grade officer, only to watch you lead a company to charge screaming into enemy gunfire and get wiped out in the next battle?”
“No, not that…”
“Second Lieutenant Friedrich Morin!”
General Mackensen suddenly called Morin’s na in a serious, loud voice.
The latter instinctively sprang up from his chair and stood at attention.
“Don’t let one good battle make you overly cocky! This is only your first battle, and the road ahead is long!”
Mackensen’s tone beca extrely solemn, the pressure of the Lieutenant General fully released at that mont.
“I hope you do not disappoint the expectations of His Imperial Highness the Crown Prince, and more importantly, do not fail the comrades who sacrificed themselves at Seville.”
“Put away your forr frivolous habits, be grounded, and be a Saxon officer who truly deserves to wear that uniform!”
(End of this Chapter)
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