The endless historical battlefield that began with World War I

“Sandhurst taught something else,” Joseph said. “Command, dispatch, strategic planning—those are useful. My system is at the squad level; it’s different.”

"But when you use it at the team level," Alfred said, "fewer people die."

Joseph pushed the whiskey toward him, unfolded the map again, and said:

"During your last attack, with the third rank leading the charge, which route did you take?"

Alfred picked up the bottle, took a sip, then put it down, pulled over the map, and pointed to a location: "Here."

"There's an old drainage ditch here; the Germans must have used it as an observation point," Joseph said. "Next time, go around to the left and come this way."

Alfred looked at the line and nodded.

And so, the two of them talked for nearly two hours, using that map as a guide. They discussed tactics, the German army's defensive strategies, and how to assess the enemy's machine gun configuration before an attack. Later, they talked about a topic that Alfred brought up himself, one that Joseph hadn't expected:

"Is valuing soldiers' lives a variable that an officer should consider in tactical decision-making?"

“I didn’t think that way before,” Alfred said. “Before I enlisted, my father told me that war is war, casualties are the price, and good officers will achieve the greatest results with the least cost, but casualties themselves are not the problem.”

"And now?"

Alfred spun the bottle around, looked at the little bit of whiskey left, and said, "Now I'll lead a platoon and remember everyone's name."

"That's enough," Joseph said.

Alfred put down the bottle, leaned against the trench wall, and said nothing more.

As the candle burned out, Alfred stood up, preparing to leave.

He paused at the door before leaving:

"Linden".

"Um."

"Have you finished writing that tactics manual?"

Joseph glanced at the stack of notes and said, "Soon."

"Show me a copy when you're done," Alfred said, pausing before adding, "This is a request, not an order."

"understood."

****************

The manual was completed in early December, and its official title was "Squad Tactics Reference." The cover was made of a piece of kraft paper that had been soaked by rain and then dried. Inside, there were thirty-two pages in total, using every kind of paper he could find—the back of logistics forms, blank spaces for expired orders, blank pages from old ledgers that McDonald had found, and the last two pages were letters from home contributed by Tom.

The content is very simple, without quotations or theories. It simply summarizes what Joseph has learned over the past year in the simplest language: how to avoid becoming a target in front of barbed wire, how three people can work together to suppress a machine gun position, how to maintain formation at night, how to use smoke grenades to buy time, and how to avoid a rout during a retreat.

After writing it, Joseph gave a copy to Alfred, a copy to Captain Wilson, and a copy to Sergeant Harris.

Harris finished reading, looked up, and asked Joseph a question:

"You really haven't fought in South Africa?"

"No, why do you ask?"

"Because there are some things in here," Harris said, closing the manual and patting it, "that you would only think of including after South Africa was beaten by the Boers."

Joseph said, "It came from reading."

Harris glanced at him again, didn't ask any further questions, put the manual in his pocket, turned and walked a few steps, then turned back and said:

"Can I use it for the new recruits?"

"Use it as you like."

Two weeks later, ten out of the fourteen platoons in the company had their platoon leaders each receive a copy of the handwritten version that Harris had arranged. The paper quality varied, and the handwriting differed, but the content was exactly the same.

Two weeks later, a staff officer from the brigade headquarters heard about this and came to ask for a copy, which he took back to the brigade headquarters. Joseph didn't ask any further questions after that.

********************

In mid-December, the brigade headquarters officially issued a dispatch, which Joseph received from Captain Wilson.

It says:

"Sergeant Lyndon is promoted to sergeant first class, effective immediately, and will soon receive his medal of merit, which will be personally awarded by Brigadier General Hill, the division commander."

Upon seeing the order, O'Connor's first reaction was to take it, read it aloud to confirm she hadn't misread it, and then hand it back to Joseph, saying:

"Sergeant."

"Um."

"Military Medal of Honor"

"Um."

"That's it? Just 'hmm'?"

Joseph took the message back, folded it, and put it in his pocket, saying, "What kind of reaction can we expect?"

"Happy," O'Connor said, "aren't you happy?"

"Happy."

"Are you happy?"

"Yes."

O'Connor stared at him, then turned to Tom: "Does he look happy to you?"

Tom thought for a moment and said, "He's always like this."

O'Connor decided to give up, turned back to clean his gun, and muttered, "Numb, numb to promotions, this guy."

Joseph didn't reply. A few lines of text flashed quietly in his mind, then faded away:

[System notification: You have been promoted to Sergeant First Class for outstanding performance.]

[Willpower: LV1. Ordinary → LV2. Stable]

Leadership: LV1. Self-discipline → LV2. Key Personnel

[Reward Points: +300]

Current points: 2800

Joseph folded the message and put it in his pocket.

****************

Joseph walked three kilometers to the division headquarters, thinking about something else the whole way.

Brigadier General Hill knew what kind of person he was. He was a true professional soldier, someone who had risen through the ranks not through connections, but through hard-fought battles. He was knowledgeable and had keen insight. Being noticed by him wasn't entirely a good thing.

Being noticed means there's a possibility of being seen through.

The reason he could do all this in the instance was, frankly, a case of dimensional reduction – he brought in military knowledge from a hundred years in the future, tactical accumulations repeatedly tested in two world wars, the Vietnam War, the Gulf War, and the Afghan War, things that people in this era would have to lose millions more to slowly figure out. He knew all of this now.

Smoke cover, alternating advances, flanking maneuvers, infiltration tactics, squad coordination—these are basic training subjects for special forces in the 21st century, but they were things no one had ever seen in 1915.

It's like you walk into a medieval hospital with a modern medical textbook and cure a patient who died from bloodletting—people call you a genius, but you've only read the book.

So whenever he's asked, "How did you know that?", he can only say, "From reading."

This answer doesn't stand up to scrutiny, but so far, no one has really asked that question.

Brigadier General Hill might be the first.

He suppressed the thought and went into the brick barn.