At the banquet at Neuschwanstein Castle that day, Lelouch’s performance in every respect astonished old Marshal Leopold, and also made Duke Rupprecht, who had already appreciated him, trust him even more.
Everyone’s assessment of his abilities was refreshed once again. From then on, the core generals at the highest levels of the Bavarian royal family all believed that Lelouch’s future would be boundless.
This young man had considerable talent in everything from strategy and diplomacy to tactics, schemes, and adapting to sudden changes. He was absolutely worth cultivating.
Well, if one had to pick out a flaw, it would be that he looked a little frail. His physical fitness and individual combat ability were not particularly good; he did not possess the martial valor of a typical Demanian soldier.
He had never attended a proper military academy. Even if he had wanted to back then, with his physical condition, he probably would not have endured the harsh training.
But no one was perfect. His brain was already so good—how could anyone still demand physical prowess from him? The times had changed.
His comparatively frail body instead made people feel that it was only reasonable for his mind to be so sharp. He must have put all his talent points into Intelligence.
This made the duke and the others feel even more at ease handing organizational and planning work over to him.
And when Lelouch learned that he was about to be transferred back to the front, he hurried to strike while the iron was hot, submitting several supplementary suggestions to the duke regarding the formation of the assault battalion.
“Your Highness, you previously instructed me to keep an eye out for personnel to supplement the assault battalion. Over this past month, whenever I had time, I also went through the lists and resumes of the main second-line staff officers in this army, as well as officers who were wounded and awaiting return to their units.
I hope you can agree to transfer a few of them over. However, their ranks are generally about the same as mine, and one or two are even one rank above me…
In addition, to broaden the selection pool, I also marked down several officers from the 4th Army as alternatives—that is, men under the Grand Duke of Baden/Württemberg. I don’t know whether they can be seconded. If it would cost too much in personal favors, then I won’t trouble you with it.”
Duke Rupprecht happened to have an excellent impression of him at the moment. Making a request at a time like this meant there was a relatively high chance it would be approved.
So the duke merely glanced through it casually and found that the highest rank on the list was only major, while several were captains. Small fry like these, generally speaking, were hardly worth haggling over.
But he did not quite understand, so he still asked, “Are there no usable men in our 6th Army? Why do you still need to second personnel from the 4th Army?”
Lelouch had no way to answer that question. He could not exactly say that in his previous life, when reading history books, these were the only people he recognized among the junior officers. So he could only probe in an unfathomable manner:
“Please don’t misunderstand. I have never said our army lacks talent. It is just that, from the resumes, I cannot analyze the ability of the overwhelming majority of my colleagues. I only saw that the records of these few people suggested they might be relatively receptive to new things, so I wanted to give them a try. If it is troublesome, then just delete the latter half of the seconded personnel.”
The duke frowned. “Troublesome? Not particularly. The Grand Duke of Württemberg and I are also on very good terms. It is all just transfers within the southern German states. If you were asking me to transfer people from the Prussians in the 1st, 2nd, 3rd, or 5th Armies, that would be a much larger favor. Very well. In view of how good your judgment has always been, I’ll trust you again.”
The duke considered the strategic insight and grasp of the overall situation that Lelouch had demonstrated over the past few days. Those repeated, almost divine predictions had greatly accumulated credibility for Lelouch’s decision-making in the duke’s mind.
Thus, in the end, he gritted his teeth and, with a sweep of his pen, signed the transfer orders. As for the corresponding coordination letters with the 4th Army, those would naturally be handled at the same time.
After Lelouch obtained the transfer orders and coordination letters, he could not help feeling delighted. He thanked the duke again, then spent another two days finishing the equipment acceptance work in Munich.
Finally, he found Immelmann, ended his leave, flew back to the front, and roped people in along the way.
The list in Lelouch’s hands was also something he had spent about a month of spare time slowly checking resumes and pondering over.
He had originally had two plans: if the duke’s trust in him had not yet reached this level, then he would only select colleagues from the 6th Army. His first list, in fact, had enough people, and he had also left himself several backups.
But if the duke was willing to expend favors, then he would dig up potential stocks from the 4th Army as well. Then he could simply remove the lower-ranked backups from the first list.
Now, it could be considered a full completion of the task. It seemed that the grand strategic outlook he had discussed with old Marshal Leopold that day had indeed not been in vain. Otherwise, the duke absolutely would not have trusted his judgment so much as to be willing to waste a favor.
…
The Taube reconnaissance aircraft of 1914 had a range of only 400 kilometers. If one wanted to return to the front, stopping twice along the way to refuel was a must.
But this time, in order to recruit people, even two stops would not be enough for Lelouch.
Fortunately, he had already learned how to fly the plane himself, so he could let Immelmann sit in the rear seat. After each landing, the two could switch positions and take turns flying to avoid fatigue.
At the very start of takeoff, Lelouch handed Immelmann a copy of the flight chart he had planned and clearly communicated the route:
“When we get back to Karlsruhe in a bit, we’ll stop once to refuel. The duke has already communicated with the people of the 4th Army. They have several officers currently training reservists, all presently at the training camp in Karlsruhe. I’ll personally hand the transfer orders and coordination letters to them and speak to them face-to-face.
Then our second stop will be Aachen. The 6th Army’s officer convalescent hospital is there, and there are several wounded officers I need to notify. Finally, we’ll land in Brussels and return directly to the army headquarters at the front.”
Thus, there was no further conversation along the way. At ten o’clock that morning, Lelouch arrived at the first stop.
Karlsruhe’s field airstrip was near the recruit training camp. When Lelouch got off the plane, several training officers who had received prior notice were already waiting at the field airstrip.
Among those who had come, some held higher rank than Lelouch, so he did not dare put on airs. The moment the plane came to a stop, he immediately climbed out of the cockpit and went up to them.
“Captain Lelouch Hunt. I’m very pleased to meet you all. Sir, you must be Major Rundstedt?”
Seeing that Lelouch, as an army officer, could also fly a plane, everyone looked at him with new respect. Unconsciously, their evaluation of him rose another level.
The major he greeted also returned the salute. “Gerd von Rundstedt, major, training staff officer of the Baden 22nd Reserve Division.”
Lelouch warmly shook the other man’s hand, feeling a strange sense of destiny in his heart: a few days ago, when Marshal Leopold had tested him by asking why the empire’s hope lay on the Eastern Front rather than the Western Front, what Lelouch had thought of while answering was the famous loading-screen quote he had seen in Hearts of Iron before transmigrating: “We should have thought of that in 1918…”
Unexpectedly, three days ago he had borrowed the other man’s thoughts from more than twenty years in the future, and three days later, he was meeting the man himself.
“I have heard that Major Rundstedt is rigorous in managing troops; even in Munich, I had heard of it. This time, we are forming a new assault battalion. Although the soldiers are all elite veterans, there are still some new tactical coordinations that must be drilled urgently before battle, so we need a training expert like you.
If you do not mind, according to this transfer order, from today onward you will be the commander of the 6th Army’s 2nd Assault Battalion. Although this position will be relatively arduous and dangerous, the opportunities for merit and promotion will also be greater…”
“What I care about is not promotion!” Major Rundstedt clarified sternly, but still accepted the transfer order.
To say he did not care about promotion was certainly impossible. He was much older than the other officers present, already forty, yet still only a major. However, facing a twenty-three-year-old captain, he certainly could not reveal any concern for rank.
Lelouch exchanged a few pleasantries with him, then turned to the other two officers, whose ranks were below his.
Because those two were both merely second lieutenants, it was difficult to distinguish them by rank. Although Lelouch had seen their photographs in his later life, they were all pictures from when they were older, so he could not recognize them at once and could only let them introduce themselves.
“Walter Model, second lieutenant, infantry platoon commander.”
“Eduard Dietl, second lieutenant, machine-gun platoon commander.”
(Note: I won’t post pictures of these two. From now on, the principle for posting pictures is that only people wearing uniforms without any insignia or medals from after 1920 may be shown.)
“Very good. Then from today onward, both of you will be transferred to my company as platoon commanders. Mine is a reinforced company, with a full eight platoons, and we have expanded with many additional men. There will absolutely be room for you.”
Lelouch spoke half-jokingly, and the two unsmiling second lieutenants could not help laughing along with him. The distance between them quickly narrowed.
Moreover, the men discovered that they were all around the same age. With Lelouch, their superior, taking the initiative to extend an olive branch, they introduced themselves to one another and learned that Model was born in ’91, one year older than his superior, while Dietl and Lelouch were the same age, both born in ’92.
They were all born in the ’90s, so there were naturally many more common topics between them, unlike the unsmiling major, who had been born in the ’70s.
Lelouch’s plane could not seat that many people. After these men received their transfer orders, they still had to take the train to the front on their own to assemble and report for duty.
Lelouch still had many matters to attend to and had no time to wait until after lunch before leaving. He left each of them a small gift, then once again flew off into the sky.
The three men looked at the gifts in their hands. It was a dense garment a full two centimeters thick. Wearing it would be a little heavier than ordinary clothing, but it weighed only around two to three kilograms, and it was extremely soft.
“What is this?” The two second lieutenants born in the ’90s had no experience and humbly sought instruction from the major born in the ’70s.
Major Rundstedt was indeed well-informed. After one glance, he said, “This is the silk bulletproof vest developed by the Americans, isn’t it? It can stop a nine-millimeter pistol round at close range, but it is very expensive. It requires many layers of silk to be densely pressed and processed together. I heard it sells for seven or eight hundred US dollars, equivalent to three or four thousand marks.”
Second Lieutenant Dietl had originally been in charge of a machine-gun platoon, so out of professional habit, he subconsciously exclaimed, “Three or four thousand marks? That’s enough to buy the heavy machine guns for my entire platoon! Four machine guns cost only three thousand marks!”
“It seems the higher-ups still value us greatly and think our lives are worth a lot,” Second Lieutenant Model could not help murmuring as well.
…
And just as the men were sighing with emotion while packing their belongings and preparing to take their officer identification to ride the train,
the endlessly busy Lelouch had already flown to the next stop, arriving at the military hospital in Aachen.
There, without stopping for a moment, he found an officer who was about to go through discharge procedures:
“You are Erwin Rommel, who was wounded in the Battle of the Marne and promoted to captain, correct? How is your recovery? Can you be discharged?
If you can, then from now on you are the commander of Company B of the 6th Army’s 1st Assault Battalion. Let us first get acquainted. I am Captain Lelouch Hunt, deputy battalion commander of the same battalion and commander of Company A. From now on, we will be colleagues.”