Chapter 8

### Chapter 8: The Death God Staff Officer's Lecture

"Everyone is here. I'll keep this short. Listen up!"

I raised my voice a bit louder, facing the 150 female soldiers lined up in the mess hall.

"I am Staff Lieutenant Chrombertz! I have received orders from the Colonel to retrain you all! So, let me make this clear!"

I recalled the lectures I had received at the military academy and clicked my boots sharply.

"If this platoon were to engage in combat right now, almost everyone would be killed! And it would be one-sided!"

I deliberately used "killed" instead of "die" to shock them.

"I was in combat with the Agan army just the other day. The squad I led consisted of fifty men, all of whom were highly trained. But when the battle was over, only twenty-two of them survived. The remaining twenty-eight were either killed or incapacitated. It was all my responsibility, but I never want to see such a惨状 again."

If the soldiers I had led back then had been from the 6th Special Operations Brigade, I probably wouldn't be alive now.

"Your training level is far lower than that of the soldiers I led. All your movements are slow and inaccurate. Moreover, your morale is low. It would be difficult to win, let alone escape. The Colonel is concerned about this."

Thanks to the Colonel's popularity, everyone seems to be listening to me seriously... or so it appears. Probably.

"I will retrain you all! Even with the best training, some of you will still die in battle! But without training, you will definitely die!"

There is no guarantee that training will ensure survival. Even trained soldiers kill each other, so training doesn't always prevent death. However, if we don't train, a large number of soldiers will die in their first battle. In this world, communication and logistics are underdeveloped, and the concept of human rights doesn't exist. We can't protect the lives of soldiers on the battlefield.

"I will train you all to become competent soldiers within a year. Unfortunately, I am a man, and I cannot fully consider your physical and mental well-being as women. Feel free to voice your complaints! I will never punish you for them!"

Soldiers' complaints can be used as feedback to improve training. However, if the complaints do not contribute to improving the training, I will not listen to them no matter how many there are. I am not here to please the soldiers.

"I was called the 'Death God' and disliked in my previous division. Feel free to dislike me too. We will start the rigorous training from tomorrow! That's all!"

As I concluded, Sergeant Hanna immediately shouted.

"Salute to the Lieutenant!"

The 150 young women, though a bit scattered, saluted me. I saluted back.

The female soldiers here are all girls who were saved by the Colonel because they had nowhere else to go. There are probably tens of thousands of women in similar situations in the country. Just 150 of them.

I will do what I can to ensure as many as possible survive. But I hope no one shoots me in the back...

* * *

The next day, I began the lectures on a squad-by-squad basis. Ideally, I would teach the entire platoon at once, but with so many students, it becomes difficult.

I have only limited experience teaching, from my part-time job at a cram school during my student days, so even a class of fifty is challenging.

"The first training will be reading, writing, and arithmetic."

The girls of the first squad, seated in the mess hall chairs, looked puzzled. Even Captain Hanna tilted her head in confusion.

So I adjusted my cap and smiled wryly.

"Surprised? But this is necessary for future training."

I looked around the mess hall and asked them.

"Who can read the entire menu in the mess hall?"

The mess hall also serves as a bar, but unlike the food, the drinks are not free.

A few hands went up hesitantly. About twenty. The literacy rate is less than half, but that's to be expected. In Schwaidel, many civilians can only write their own names.

"Who can mentally calculate the total for six glasses of wine and four pints of ale?"

Of the twenty or so who raised their hands, half of them put their hands down.

Such "slightly complicated calculations" are more familiar to merchants and craftsmen. Farmers, who make up about 90% of the population, rarely do such calculations.

I nodded and took out an expensive textbook from my pocket, which I had kept from my days at the military academy. Many officer candidates from the commoner class sell their textbooks after graduation, but I didn't.

"Those who can't read can't read the manual for their rifles. Those who can't write can't write leave applications. Those who can't calculate can't manage supplies. All of these are fatal."

In general, people with higher education levels adapt more quickly to new tasks.

Things that a Japanese person from my previous life could do easily are often impossible for the people of Schwaidel in this life.

The most significant issues are literacy and arithmetic.

Because of these problems, I will start by teaching them reading, writing, and arithmetic.

"Didn't expect soldiers to have to do reading, writing, and arithmetic, did you? But if you do this, even if you are discharged due to injury, you can still make a living. You could work as a scribe or in a store. This will definitely be useful in your future life. Let's start with this."

When I said this more gently, the female soldiers nodded quietly.

* * *

On the other hand, we will also do physical training.

This involves marching, formation changes, and running.

"Lieutenant, is this the right kind of training?"

Hanna asked, and I nodded while running alongside her.

"We need to get to the battlefield as quickly as possible. It's better to join the defense force and secure the position before the enemy occupies it, rather than retake a position that has been captured."

Just a one-day difference in arrival can change the outcome of a battle. I've experienced this many times in the military academy's tabletop exercises and in actual combat.

Increasing the speed of the march is advantageous, as proven by historical examples from my previous life. The first to implement this was probably Napoleon.

"Female soldiers are at a disadvantage when fighting with bayonets against male soldiers. If that's the case, we want to avoid bayonet charges and instead disperse the enemy. To do that..."

I was getting out of breath from running. I shouldn't have joined in.

Hanna smiled.

"Get to a better position before the enemy and tell them, 'You have no chance of winning!'"

"Y-Yes, that's right."

Hanna is more physically fit. She's not even out of breath. She also has a high understanding. She's an excellent non-commissioned officer.

From now on, I'll let her take charge of the running. I'll stay with them until the end and then return to the brigade headquarters. The lighter training program for women is a relief.

* * *

During the breaks in training, I went to the Colonel's office to report and consult with Colonel Altsar.

"Things are going smoothly, but it will take longer than planned. Their potential is not bad, but they lack basic physical strength and a fighting spirit."

Colonel Altsar, looking out the window at the training scene, nodded lightly.

"Lieutenant Chrombertz, will this training really turn them into elite soldiers?"

"At least, I don't know of any other methods. I'm just doing what I learned at the military academy. Didn't you learn the same, sir?"

The Colonel shook his head.

"Unlike a real soldier like you, I didn't learn much at the military academy. I was only formally enrolled."

Ah, a common type among noble officers, especially those of high rank.

Nobles of high rank often hold high ranks and can form regiment-sized units from conscripts from their own territories. The regiment commander is, of course, the noble himself.

However, nobles who are busy with estate management and political maneuvering have no time to study modern military technology.

That's why officers like me, from the commoner class, are assigned as staff officers and adjutants. I was assigned here to assist the Colonel.

It's a dead-end for advancement, but I have no complaints since I received the title of staff officer as a consolation prize. Plus, this is a safe rear area.

I should try to win the Colonel's favor.

With that in mind, I explained to the Colonel.

"Soldiers who can't read are of no use to you. They can't be sent on reconnaissance missions, and you'd have to write their application forms for them."

The military organization, equipment, and tactics will become increasingly sophisticated and complex. Verbal communication will eventually reach its limits. It's a bit roundabout, but it's a necessary measure.

I explained this to the Colonel.

"You're right. And..."

The Colonel leaned back in his chair and smiled.

"Learning to read and write will be useful in their lives after discharge. Isn't that so?"

Oops, he saw through me.

I adjusted my cap and smiled wryly.

"Yes. If we command the soldiers to risk their lives in battle, it is the military's duty to take responsibility for their lives after discharge."

"You're right. Our army is too harsh on discharged soldiers."

After making a slightly bitter face, the Colonel smiled again.

"It seems I have a good staff officer. I applied multiple times for 'an officer with practical experience and systematic knowledge who can also train female soldiers.'"

"Multiple times?"

The Colonel, still leaning back in his chair, folded his hands behind his head.

"You are the fourth. The previous three quickly requested reassignment, so I let them go."

"Can you stop talking about me like I'm a fish you caught?"

It seems the Colonel also had his struggles. Even as a direct descendant of the royal family, he is just one colonel in the military. It's not easy to appeal to higher-ups for a staff officer lottery.

The Colonel, looking out the window at the training scene, smiled at me.

"I will talk to the soldiers. Try your methods for a while. If you encounter any problems, feel free to consult me. I will take responsibility."

"Understood!"

It's a relief to have a supportive boss. Maybe I have a good superior.