World War: Battleship Arms Dealers

"Let them believe it," Matsumoto finally said. "At least before they die, let them feel like heroes. Perhaps that's... the only comfort we can give them."

Muto fell silent. He looked at those young faces, at the light in their eyes, and a deep, indescribable sorrow welled up inside him.

Many of these people did not live to see the end of the war.

But at least, when they die, they will believe they are heroes.

Is this considered a form of compassion?

Muto didn’t know.

All he knew was that the war was still going on, and the death was still going on.

They are all just cogs in this giant machine, driven by invisible forces, grinding towards an unknown end.

That evening, at the officers' mess hall of the regimental headquarters.

Major General Tanaka sat in the head seat, surrounded by officers of various ranks from the regimental headquarters. The table was laden with a rare and lavish spread—sake imported from Japan, canned beef, and even fresh vegetables. This was a "gift of comfort" brought by the special envoy.

"Gentlemen," Major General Tanaka raised his glass, "on behalf of the Ministry of the Army, I raise a toast to you all! Thank you for your valiant fighting on the Eastern Front!"

The officers raised their glasses. The alcohol made the atmosphere lively, and everyone began to speak freely.

"General," Colonel Tanaka—the regimental commander—said, "how is the domestic reaction to the victory on the Eastern Front?"

"Extremely enthusiastic!" Major General Tanaka exclaimed, his face beaming. "Newspapers are reporting it on the front page every day, people are marching in celebration, schools are organizing students to write letters of condolence, and factories are working overtime to produce supplies. The Ministry of the Army's phone lines are practically exploding—all inquiring about how to enlist in the Expeditionary Army!"

He took a sip of his drink and continued, "More importantly, the cabinet has decided to increase the army budget. The third batch of dispatched troops will be larger and better equipped than the second batch."

"What about the navy?" someone asked.

Rear Admiral Tanaka's face darkened. "The Navy? Hmph, they're still making excuses for their defeat in the East China Sea campaign. They say the enemy outnumbered us, they say there's a difference in warship performance. All just pretexts! True soldiers, like the army, should create victory from adversity!"

His words drew a chorus of agreement. Given the long-standing animosity between the Army and Navy, belittling the Navy in this setting was standard political correctness.

"However," Rear Admiral Tanaka changed the subject, "the Navy has also been vying for budget recently. They want to build new battleships, saying they want to 'avenge' them. What a joke! With that money, they'd be better off sending more divisions to Europe and winning more battles!"

The officers laughed. Alcohol and a shared sense of camaraderie filled the mess hall with a cheerful atmosphere.

But Matsumoto noticed that Major Yoshida hadn't said a word. He just silently drank and ate, his expression unusually calm.

After a few rounds of drinks, Major General Tanaka began to reveal more "insider information".

"Gentlemen, besides offering my condolences, I have another important mission here today." He lowered his voice, "The Ministry of the Army is formulating a grand plan—after the war, we will establish a 'Greater XX Co-Prosperity Sphere' in Asia. Japan, as the leader, will lead Asian countries to break free from Western colonialism and achieve common prosperity."

The officers' eyes lit up. It was an exciting vision.

"And to realize this vision," Major Tanaka continued, "we need more land, more resources, and a stronger army. The wars in Europe have given us an opportunity—the Western powers are wearing each other down here, and their power in Asia will weaken. Then…"

He didn't finish speaking, but his meaning was clear.

"So," Colonel Tanaka continued, "our fighting in Europe is not only to help Germany, but also for... the future of Japan?"

"Exactly!" Major General Tanaka slammed his fist on the table. "Every victory, every advance, paves the way for the rise of the Sakura Nation! Gentlemen, you are not only warriors, but also pioneers of the empire! History will remember you! You will be the vanguard of a hundred battles!"

These words were delivered with great passion and fervor, and the officers were deeply moved. Some were even brought to tears.

Only Major Yoshida remained calm. He even gently shook his head, a small movement that Matsumoto noticed.

The banquet lasted until late at night. Major General Tanaka got completely drunk and had to be helped back to his room by his adjutant. The officers also left one after another, leaving only Yoshida and Matsumoto in the mess hall.

"Major," Matsumoto said, clearing the wine glasses from the table, "you seemed... to disagree with General Tanaka's words just now?"

Yoshida lit a cigarette and took a deep drag.

"Matsumoto, have you studied history?" he suddenly asked.

"I've read some."

"Do you know what happened to all the empires in history that attempted to establish a 'Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere' or a 'Community'?"

Matsumoto thought for a moment: "It seems... we've all failed."

"It's not just a feeling, it's that they all failed," Yoshida said. "The Assyrian Empire, the Persian Empire, the Roman Empire, the Mongol Empire, the British Empire... they were all glorious at one time, and they all tried to incorporate different peoples and cultures into their own systems. But they all collapsed because of a simple truth—no one wants to be ruled forever."

He flicked his cigarette ash: "What Tanaka said sounds beautiful. But in essence, it's still conquest and plunder, just with a nicer packaging. And conquest and plunder will ultimately invite resistance."

Matsumoto remained silent. He hadn't expected Yoshida to utter such "outrageous" words.

"Then why..." he hesitated, "why continue?"

"Because it can't be stopped." Yoshida smiled bitterly. "It's like a carriage going downhill, getting faster and faster, and the driver can't control it anymore. The army wants to prove that it is stronger than the navy, politicians want to win votes, zaibatsu want to gain profits, and the people need national pride... All these forces are pushing the carriage forward, and whoever shouts to stop will be crushed."

He stood up, walked to the window, and looked at the dark night sky outside.

"So we can only continue. Continue fighting, continue dying, continue using our lives to accelerate that carriage. Until one day, the carriage crashes into a cliff and is shattered to pieces."

He turned to look at Matsumoto: "And you, me, and those new recruits outside are all passengers on this carriage. All we can do is try to hold on tight and avoid being thrown out before it crashes."

Matsumoto felt a chill. Not from the cool night breeze, but from the cruel truth revealed by those words.

"Major," he asked in a low voice, "do we... have any hope?"

Yoshida stared at him for a long time. The cigarette burned between his fingers, the flame flickering in the darkness.

"Hope?" he finally said. "Hope is for the living. So, live on. The longer you live, the greater the chance of seeing hope. Even if that hope is faint, even if that hope doesn't belong to our generation."

He threw the cigarette butt out the window; the embers traced an arc in the night before going out.

"Go to sleep, Matsumoto. We have to train new recruits tomorrow."

"Yes, Major."

Matsumoto saluted and turned to leave.

As he reached the door, he glanced back. Major Yoshida was still standing by the window, his figure appearing particularly lonely in the dim light.

Outside the window, the night wind howled across the East European plains.

It carried the stench of blood, the smell of gunpowder, and the sighs of countless lost souls.

But the war continues.