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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Wjin
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The biggest problem with the Ukrainian army, in my judgment, was the incompetence of the non-commissioned officer corps. I wasn’t fond of the officer corps either, but to some extent, it was understandable.
Officers were an elite group, and you couldn’t just mass-produce them before a war broke out. But non-commissioned officers? Even with a field commander, it was ultimately the non-commissioned officers who did the real work.
Just look at Claude Lane. The skill of a seasoned and experienced non-commissioned officer was something that most officers couldn’t match. The saying that the non-commissioned officer corps is the backbone of the army wasn’t for nothing.
But the Ukrainian rank system had a strong tendency to look down on non-commissioned officers. How could the treatment of non-commissioned officers and soldiers be almost the same?
You could tell just by the way the soldiers treated Lumia and Belle, who were clearly non-commissioned officers, back in the 3rd Magic Battalion.
Even in the modern Korean army, where junior lieutenants or sergeants were sometimes pushed around by senior enlisted soldiers, a master sergeant would never be disrespected.
Was it because Lumia and Belle lacked experience? Or because they were women? It wasn’t just because of those reasons. More fundamentally, the perception that ‘non-commissioned officers don’t need to be treated well’ was deeply ingrained in the Ukrainian army.
And they didn’t promote seasoned senior soldiers to non-commissioned officers either. It was extremely difficult to move from soldier to non-commissioned officer, and practically impossible to move from non-commissioned officer to officer.
They just kept soldiers at the rank of sergeant… a truly pathetic way of thinking. That’s why talented individuals were unable to do anything and just discharged, a unfortunate situation that kept repeating.
What were they supposed to do in a country with a partial conscription system if they didn’t open up the ranks?
So, I just did it.
I selected soldiers who had served as vanguards in the last two real battles, or who had been recognized as exemplary by their platoon leaders, and promoted them to sergeant. The existing sergeants were all promoted to master sergeant.
And the platoon leaders were given the rank of second lieutenant through on-site commissioning. Of course, among them were my former platoon members from the previous battalion.
“Platoon Leader Belle.”
“Second Lieutenant, Belle Meyer!”
“…Why are you suddenly reporting your rank and name like that? You didn’t do that before.”
“Hehe, it just feels a little strange to be called Second Lieutenant…”
In fact, even Chief of Staff Josef Lewandowski and the personnel department staff weren’t entirely happy about promoting all the platoon leaders to officers. But they couldn’t refute my argument that we needed more officers and non-commissioned officers, as the entire battalion was scheduled to be expanded.
Were they going to entrust the parachute training, which we had been conducting for months, to newly arrived non-commissioned officers and officers? Were they crazy?
Those people would also have to roll around to learn the tactics of the 8th Assault Magic Infantry Battalion for months.
Since the currently assigned personnel had to act as training instructors and drill sergeants, it was essential to give them the appropriate rank.
Especially in a less modernized organization like the Ukrainian army, no matter how much you called them drill sergeants or instructors, if the other person’s rank was lower, they would be looked down upon.
After overhauling the battalion’s rank system with Chief of Staff Joseph, the next thing I tackled was the unit’s organization.
Although we were going to call it a battalion even after making it a battalion combat team, we couldn’t just follow the existing battalion organization. It was an ‘assault’ battalion, wasn’t it?
Then, of course, we needed a supply company to handle the supplies needed for the assault, and an air unit to manage and operate the airships sleeping behind the barracks.
Currently, the personnel from the technology research department were on dispatch, but they needed to be officially assigned to our battalion, not on dispatch. Unless an air command or air support brigade was established.
Since the only air power we had were two transport airships, it was better for the battalion to have them for now. Therefore, I established an air platoon directly under the unit commander with Chief of Staff Joseph.
The platoon leader position was temporarily vacant. It wouldn’t be right to just give it to Roxana without due process.
I was a firm believer in meritocracy. Nepotism was absolutely unacceptable.
In addition, we established two new companies under the unit and evenly distributed the existing battalion personnel. They would now be the senior soldiers who would lead the new soldiers and non-commissioned officers who would join in the future.
And, as Belle Meyer had suggested, a ‘medical platoon’ was also assigned as a special staff to the unit headquarters. With this, the 8th Assault Magic Infantry Battalion had completed all preparations to transform into the 8th Assault Magic Infantry Combat Team.
Now, all that was left… was to devise a training plan to transform the cute new recruits into a terrifying airborne unit.
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“Sergeant… no, Second Lieutenant, Roxana, are you here?”
“Yes.”
Although it was called a medical unit, it was actually just a room with a few beds. Captain Debra Bennett from the Central Technology Research Department, who was working with the battalion, said she would bring construction engineers to the battalion soon, so this poor medical unit would be improved in the near future.
“How are you feeling?”
“Much better.”
Roxana smiled, lightly tucking her pink hair behind her ear. She had consumed too much mana during the escape from the Lymansk Armory and had been in the medical unit for several weeks since then.
Her personal physician, Edward, had even berated her for it. However, Roxana herself didn’t seem to mind much. In fact, she even said that since her sacrifice had allowed the battalion members to escape safely,
she could certainly endure a few weeks in the medical unit. Sony Zeppelin had recommended her for a medal, along with me, in recognition of her contributions. As a result, a shining diamond and a silver ribbon were added to Roxana’s uniform.
The Silver Star Medal. Due to the circumstances, there was no separate award ceremony, but her contributions were certainly recognized. The entire battalion owed her their lives.
“I want to be discharged soon.”
“I’m still not sure if it’s right to put you back in training right away.”
“I received a medal, so I have to work even harder. My father seemed quite happy about it too.”
I heard that Second Lieutenant Roxana Ellim’s father was the head of a rather large merchant guild in a southwestern trading city in Ukraine. Although he wasn’t a noble, what did that matter?
A merchant guild leader in a trading city probably had more real power than most nobles. I was able to solve the long-standing mystery of how Roxana had been able to enlist in the first place. It was impossible without lobbying.
No matter how dysfunctional the Ukrainian army was, they weren’t so dysfunctional as to forcibly conscript a heart patient.
Anyway, it was only natural for her father to be proud that his daughter had not only been promoted to second lieutenant (unofficially) but had also received a Silver Star Medal.
Of course.
“That’s because you conveniently left out the part about almost dying.”
She scratched her head awkwardly at my words.
“If I had told him the truth, he would have told me to discharge immediately. Or he would have had me transferred to another unit.”
“I would have done the same.”
“Even if your daughter didn’t want that?”
“If she died, the burden would fall on those who were left behind. What’s the use of medals or ranks when a person is no longer alive?”
It was a bitter story. In the end, it was the survivors who had to live with the burden of death. I could still clearly remember the faces of the soldiers who had died in the last battle.
The one who used to smoke with me and talk about the future, the one who used to be boisterous in the village tavern, and the ones who had been disciplined countless times and had rolled around in front of me during training.
Their names could only be found on the memorial stone in front of the unit.
“Roxana, let’s make a promise.”
“Yes?”
“From now on, no more pushing yourself.”
I held out my pinky finger. Roxana just stared at it blankly.
“Captain… no, Deputy Battalion Commander. You know that reality isn’t that easy. I can’t promise. I don’t know if I can keep it.”
“I know. But if you promise to do so, you’ll at least make an effort, won’t you?”
Roxana was always full of enthusiasm.
Yes, it was good. Sacrificing oneself for one’s comrades? How many soldiers possessed such a noble and honorable spirit? But the mindset that one must sacrifice oneself wasn’t always a good thing.
‘Sacrifice,’ which at first glance seemed very noble, was an extremely subjective and relative value. Let’s say someone blew themselves up with a bridge to stop an enemy advance.
But what if the enemy had been prepared for a river crossing from the start? What if the destruction of the bridge didn’t have a significant impact?
A noble sacrifice could quickly turn into a meaningless death. In the end, war was no different from anything else in the world. No, war was a place where purely result-oriented values reigned supreme.
The result had to be good, no matter what. Even if it was a cruel story, it couldn’t be helped. That was reality.
“The mindset of sacrifice can sometimes blind people. Be careful not to get caught up in that perspective.”
“Captain Enoch…”
“Quickly, are you going to promise or not? If you don’t, I won’t replenish your mana from now on.”
“Pfft.”
Roxana let out a light laugh. Soon, her thin, slender finger intertwined with my pinky.
“Isn’t it the Deputy Battalion Commander who receives mana replenishment from me?”
“Oh, that was just one time. It won’t happen again.”
“We’ll see about that.”
Roxana replied with a slight mischievous glint in her eye. It was a sly expression I had never seen before.
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