Trench Bolts and Magic

Chapter 216 I'll get you a letter of recommendation after the war.
"Earthwork?" a general asked, somewhat puzzled.

“That’s right.” General Mackensen’s tone left no room for argument. “Since there are no covers in the open area in front of the enemy’s position, then we’ll take matters into our own hands and create covers for our soldiers!”

"We will dig a parallel attack start trench, and then from this trench, we will dig several communication trenches forward, all the way to the front of the enemy's position!"

"We must build a safe passage for our attacking forces right under the enemy's nose!"

How could such a large-scale earthmoving operation be carried out at a distance of only a little over one kilometer from the enemy?
This is something the Saxon army has never done before.
"General, isn't this a bit dangerous! Enemy artillery fire and night patrols!"

One of the army commanders couldn't help but raise an objection.

“Dangerous?” Mackensen scoffed. “Does that mean it wouldn’t be dangerous for our soldiers to charge hundreds of meters in open ground during the day, under enemy machine gun and artillery fire?”

The army commander was speechless.

"All operational procedures are strictly carried out in accordance with the latest 'Imperial Army Earthwork Operations Manual' issued by the General Staff!" General Mackensen added.

Upon hearing the name of the manual, many people instinctively glanced at Morin in the corner.

Because everyone knew that the theoretical basis and most of the content of this booklet, which was printed and distributed to the grassroots units by the General Staff before the war, came from the hands of this young captain.

It was during the time he was forming and training the training commando battalion that he achieved his first 'output' through the training commando battalion.

"Captain Morin!" General Mackensen called out again.

“Yes, General!” Morin immediately stepped forward.

"From now on, your training assault battalion will be dispersed and assigned to various main attack divisions in the form of companies and platoons! Your mission is to serve as a technical guidance group, assisting and guiding them in completing this unprecedented nighttime earthwork operation."

"Once all the work is completed and before the attack is launched, your training assault battalion will regroup and stand by as a reserve force."

Morin instantly understood General Mackensen's intention.

This is not only to complete this earthwork operation, but also to take this opportunity to promote the advanced tactics and operational skills mastered by the assault battalion to the entire army group to a certain extent!

"Yes, General! Mission accomplished!"

Maureen naturally agreed to this task with both his heart and his hands.

In his view, this is the true meaning of the existence of the training assault battalion, this 'seed force'—not to win a few brilliant battles or show off a few times.

Rather, it is to enable more troops to master these new tactics and techniques that can effectively reduce casualties and enhance combat effectiveness.

General Mackensen nodded, then looked at the other generals.

"Gentlemen, are there any other questions?"

The tent was silent; no one raised any further objections.

"Very good! The meeting is adjourned! Return to your units immediately. The final attack time will be communicated to each unit in due course!"

"Yes!"

The generals responded in unison, then turned around and prepared to leave the command tent and return to their respective units.

As soon as the pre-battle meeting ended, the previously crowded space inside the tent suddenly felt much more spacious.

Some generals hurried away, rushing back to their respective troops to prepare for the unprecedented nighttime operation.

However, several division commanders in charge of the main attack made a point of approaching Morin before leaving.

"Captain Morin, I've heard so much about you."

A general who looked to be in his fifties, with a meticulously groomed beard, extended his hand to Morin.

"I am Ludwig von Arnim, commander of the 5th Infantry Division."

"General, hello!" Morin was flattered and quickly grasped the other's hand.

"Captain, our division is counting on you for this earthwork operation."

General Alnim wore a genuine smile and was very approachable.

"Although our division has also organized the study of the booklet issued by the General Staff, we still lack practical experience and only have a superficial understanding of many parts. We hope your subordinates will provide guidance in the future."

“General, you’re too kind. This is our duty as instructors for the assault battalion,” Morin replied modestly.

"Haha, good, I like young people like you who are neither humble nor arrogant."

General Arnim patted Morin on the shoulder and said with a smile:

"I will ensure that the entire division cooperates fully with you! Anything that can reduce their bloodshed on the battlefield is acceptable!"

Immediately afterwards, several other division commanders also gathered around, all expressing the same request to Morin.

They have now realized that the success or failure of this attack largely depends on whether the earthwork can be completed smoothly tonight.

The training assault battalion is undoubtedly the most experienced unit in this regard within the entire army group.

Morin readily agreed to all of them, his humble attitude and sincere words greatly increasing the goodwill of these usually arrogant generals.

After seeing off these enthusiastic instructors, Morin prepared to leave the tent and return to his own camp.

"Friedrich".

General Mackensen’s voice suddenly rang out from behind him.

Morin turned around and saw General Mackensen walking slowly towards him. Now only the two of them were left in the tent, and the atmosphere was no longer as tense as before.

General Mackensen walked up to Morin, stood in front of him, looked him up and down for a moment, and then said:
“After you went back to China, you disappeared like you vanished into thin air. You didn’t even come to visit this old man.”

His words carried a hint of a senior’s affectionate complaint to a junior.

Morin scratched his head sheepishly and chuckled, saying, "General, you're wronging me. Since returning home, I haven't had a single day of rest! I have to go to the War Academy for extra classes every day, and I'm also in charge of all the details of setting up this training assault battalion. I'm so busy that I can't even take a break."

"Alright, do you think I don't know you?"

Mackensen waved his hand, a slight smile appearing on his usually serious face.

"The training commando battalion you organized was quite good; it really made a name for itself in Charleroi this time!"

"The General Staff actually has a very high opinion of this unit, but some other issues are involved, so some expansion work has not yet been carried out."

Morin was quite pleased to receive such praise from this veteran general.

“However,” Mackensen’s tone shifted, his smile fading and his voice becoming serious, “do not become complacent because of this. The war has only just begun, so do not be careless!”

"Yes, I understand, General," Morin replied immediately, standing at attention.

“Go on,” Mackensen waved his hand. “Go back and prepare well; tonight’s mission is of utmost importance.”

After bidding farewell to General Mackensen, Morin strode out of the tent, preparing to go to the stables to retrieve his warhorse.

The army group command post is busier at night than during the day.

Countless messengers and staff officers came and went, and the sounds of horses' hooves and vehicle engines rose and fell.

When Morin arrived at the stables, he immediately spotted the messenger who had led him there that afternoon.

He was holding a brush, carefully grooming his warhorse's coat with gentle and focused movements, as if he were handling a precious work of art.

Upon seeing Morin approach, the messenger immediately stopped what he was doing, stood up straight, and gave Morin a standard military salute.

Morin nodded in return, then took his horse, swung it over, and mounted.

Just as he was about to urge his horse away, he hesitated for a moment, and then, as if possessed, asked:
"Soldier, do you like to draw?"

The messenger was clearly stunned, his face filled with surprise and confusion.

He stared blankly at Morin on horseback, not reacting for a moment.

"Sir... how... how did you know?" the messenger stammered.

Morin smiled and pointed to the other person's sleeve.

"I noticed it this afternoon. There were some paint stains on your clothes and cuffs. They weren't obvious, but you could still see them if you looked closely."

The messenger subconsciously looked down at his cuff and, sure enough, in an inconspicuous corner, there were still a few drops of dried blue-green paint.

This made him scratch his head somewhat embarrassed.

"It's just a personal hobby," the messenger said quietly. "I like to draw things during my breaks to pass the time."

"Is it just a hobby?" Maureen pressed. "Have you ever thought about studying at a specialized art school?"

Upon hearing this, the messenger's eyes dimmed, and a hint of bitterness and regret appeared on his face.

"I've thought about it. My biggest dream is to study at the Vienna Academy of Fine Arts! But I was rejected twice."

His voice was filled with disappointment and resentment.

Morin looked at him quietly, at this young man in another world whose life trajectory was completely changed by failing the exam twice, and even changed the course of the entire world's history.

At that moment, a thought suddenly came to Maureen's mind.

"Listen, soldiers!"

He leaned down, getting close to the messenger, and said in an extremely serious tone:

“If, and I mean if, we are both lucky enough to survive this damned war, then come find me! I will find a way to get the most powerful person in the empire to write you a letter of recommendation so you can go to Vienna and study at any art academy you want.”

The messenger was completely dumbfounded.

He stared wide-eyed at Morin, his mouth agape, his mind completely blank.

He simply couldn't understand why this captain, who had been summoned to a tent full of generals for a meeting, would suddenly say such things to an unknown soldier like himself and make such an unbelievable promise.

"Why?" he asked instinctively. "Sir, we're complete strangers, why are you helping me?"

Morin straightened up and settled back into his horse.

He looked at the messenger's face, which was both familiar and unfamiliar, and a meaningful smile appeared on his face.

"No reason. It's just my intuition that tells me you might be more talented at drawing than at being in the army."

Having said that, he gave the other party no chance to ask any further questions. He spurred his horse on, and with a neigh, the warhorse carried him away like a black lightning bolt, disappearing into the night.

Only the messenger remained, standing alone in front of the stables, staring blankly in the direction Morin had gone, unable to recover for a long time.

(End of this chapter)