The war situation was, at a glance, chaos.
The Condor Legion's heavy equipment and elite status were enough to crush the enemy's surprise attack masked by the fog, but our numbers were far too few to rout all the enemies who kept swarming in.
“Relay! Hold this position for 30 minutes!”
“R-R-Relay! Hold this position for 30 minutes!”
I first gave the order to the platoon members fighting with their backs against the now half-tattered wall, and I too pressed against it and fired my gun at an enemy soldier charging at me.
As the enemy fell, the click of the bolt-action rifle’s bolt being pulled made all the nerves in my body tense up as well.
The enemies were flooding in as if to cover the entire riverside, having set up several pontoon bridges. What the hell did those Italian idiot bastards do!
This wasn't some small-scale surprise attack.
No matter how I looked at it, the enemy's main attack was focused here! There are only three battalions here!
Meanwhile, the sound of bullets hitting the wall, thwack, thwack, and the sound of wind grazing my ears exploded.
“Ack!”
It stung like hell and blood was smeared on my hand, but thankfully it was just a graze.
My ear wasn't torn off, but I knew for sure that if I carelessly stuck my head out in this situation, ten lives wouldn't be enough.
As I was clinging to the wall, holding my ears that were ringing with tinnitus, Klemens came up next to me.
“Six are down already! Dietrich! Where's the Captain?”
“Seven now! Klemens! Pick three, no, two fast men as messengers and send them to Battalion HQ! Tell them the front line can't be held! That we'll be fighting a delaying action, so we need retreat permission!”
My ears were still ringing, so even though he was right next to me, I shouted as if I were screaming. Instead of asking more about the Captain, Klemens just said he understood and immediately shouted for Sergeant Kocher, giving him quick instructions.
While he was pulling two troopers from those who were frantically returning fire, a private from the 3rd Platoon came running breathlessly.
“Heil-”
In that situation, the foolish private tried to straighten his back and raise his hand, and I was so dumbfounded I just grabbed him and pulled him down.
Sending a private as a messenger? Depression or not, that Habenstein fellow has lost his damn sanity!
“Shut up and report! What is it!”
“Seven casualties in the 3rd Platoon! We are being pushed back from the defense line! The, the platoon adjutant has also been shot!”
“Fuck, what did you do to be in that state already!”
While this clumsy bastard was making his way here, the body count was surely rising in real-time!
“Th-That is…”
“Can't you see everyone is fighting for their lives! Spit it out!”
Furious, I slapped the private’s cheek and yelled. The private answered, almost in tears.
“Th-The Italian bastards abandoned the defense line and ran first, so from the side…”
Those fucking Pizza Bastards…
“Gr-Grenade!”
“Get down!”
At the shout that erupted from somewhere, I slammed the private’s head to the ground and we both hit the dirt. As if on cue, the ground shook and an explosion roared.
Fortunately, the grenade hadn’t exploded near us. Instead, the machine gun team that had been firing the MG 34 from behind the tattered wall was blown away.
The Republican faction's battle cries, like ‘Death to the Fascists!’ or ‘You shall not pass (No Pasaran)!’, were now almost right on top of us.
This is madness.
If we hold this position, it's obvious that half the company members will be dead in 15 minutes, not 30!
“Dietrich! We're all going to die like this!”
Klemens was also visibly shaken. If only the Captain were here at a time like this…!
If those fucking Italian bastards had just held the defense line, this wouldn't have happened! With our flank breached, it was obvious we would soon be surrounded if we kept fighting behind this wall.
I quickly recalled a building from the urban area map I had seen during the operation meeting, one that was relatively large and located further inside.
“Messenger! Go and tell the 3rd Platoon to pull back! It's a delaying action while retreating to the post office! 1st Platoon, cover the 3rd Platoon for just five minutes as they abandon the wall! I'll bring the 2nd Platoon to cover your rear, so pull back then! We're narrowing the defense line using the buildings and falling back inside!”
The private nodded vigorously and started running.
I grabbed Klemens, who was about to return to his position, and hastily added.
“I can't trust that bastard, so send another messenger!”
------------------------------------------------
When I opened my eyes, I saw a gray ceiling.
Even when I blinked slowly, it was still a gray ceiling, not a field tent.
“I-I'm ba—, ughhhh…!”
As I reflexively tried to sit up, my whole body screamed.
Damn, this is—damn it! What is this shitty feeling, like an iron skewer is stuck in my shoulder and scraping!
“Huugh, ugh, huk, huuuugh…”
The severe pain made my vision turn yellow and I had to tremble on the sickbed for a while, but as the pain subsided, a crappy sense of reality began to return.
“Damn it, this isn't it…”
This isn't my room in Korea.
What color was my room's ceiling? I can't even remember.
I even missed that crappy barracks in Korea.
But I can't even recall the color of its ceiling.
Only then did I realize that the words I had unknowingly uttered were naturally in the German language.
“Ha, fuck. This is shitty…”
I deliberately tried speaking in Korean.
The pronunciation wasn't as clumsy as a foreigner first learning Korean, but it didn't sound like a native Korean's pronunciation at all.
Before that, though, my voice was so hoarse it just sounded like scraping metal.
“Heh, heheheheh…”
“Ahem, ahem. You seem to be awake?”
As I was letting out a cynical laugh in despair, a middle-aged man's voice suddenly came from the side.
I whipped my body around, only to have to writhe in pain again.
“Oh dear, my, uhm.
Have some water.”
The man sitting on the opposite bed poured some water that was beside his sickbed and brought it to me.
Only after gulping it down could I properly see the man.
“Th-Thank you.”
Honestly, with his receding hairline and Hitler-like mustache, he looked quite unpleasant, but the man seemed much older than me and offered a good-natured smile.
“Don't mention it.
Hehe, I've heard a lot about the brave First Lieutenant.”
Brave First Lieutenant? What is this stranger talking about? No, wait, what happened? I was definitely at Brihuega because of those damn Pizza Bastards…
‘We're all going to die! We have to retreat!’
A throbbing headache, and Klemens's desperate voice.
Then the sounds of explosions and machine guns flashed through my mind.
Seeing my expression, the man once again showed his good-natured smile.
He seems like a kind person, despite his appearance.
“Oh dear, my apologies.
You must be disoriented. Hehe, First Lieutenant, you have been promoted for your military merit at Guadalajara.
They say you'll receive a Wound Badge as well.”
A Wound Badge, an award given to soldiers wounded while fighting bravely in battle.
Damn it, who would want to receive something like that?
“They also said there's an additional decoration review for an Iron Cross, hehe, I'm envious. Oh dear, look at me.
I am Schutzstaffel (SS) Untersturmführer (Second Lieutenant) Paul Oskar Dirlewanger. Hehe.
You're Minister Schacht's son, aren't you? It's a pleasure to meet you.”
In an instant, my entire evaluation of this man until now went cold.
Dirlewanger? The commander of the Waffen-SS ‘Dirlewanger’ Brigade?
Seeing my face harden, Dirlewanger immediately cleared his throat and started explaining, making his own assumptions.
“A-Ahem, you might not like sharing a hospital room with the SS, but this hospital isn't just for us, you see.
Hehe, just between us, only people with connections like us get to enjoy the luxury of a two-person room with this kind of military chow, don't you think? Haha, ha…”
I didn't want to correct whatever delusion this madman was having, and if I could, I'd storm out of this room right now for having to share it with a man like him.
“A-Ahem.
H-Have you perhaps heard any bad rumors about me? Th-Th-That little brat of a girl wasn't a good kid, I'm telling you! It was all revealed in the trial…”
No, this bastard is famous for his division being unable to advance because he was too busy committing massacres and rapes.
“The attempted rape charge was truly a slander! Ah, no, it was a mistake.
I've completely turned over a new leaf and become a new man now! Hehe! Thanks to Berger, I even got the glory of being wounded for my comrades here in Spain.”
This was news to me.
I didn't need to know, nor did I want to know, what this guy was up to before World War II. Sure, he seems to be acting like a normal person now.
But when World War II breaks out, he's a madman who will be despised even by the Waffen-SS, creating human shields by tying women and children to tanks while committing war crimes!
As I kept a sour expression on my face, Dirlewanger gave up on his excuses, went back to his sickbed, turned over, and started muttering something.
Whatever he did, I had no intention of getting friendly with that human scum.
The problem wasn't that bastard, but my company.
Still, as my senses returned, memories began to surface one by one.
He's dead, Captain Kaufmann…
The superior officer who called me in from the sleet to pour me warm coffee, who lamented that he couldn't do the same for all his soldiers, died not for his fatherland, but in another country's civil war.
After the Captain died and the damn Pizza Bastards fled, we fought a delaying action and retreated to the post office.
We held on, holed up in the building, and managed to survive until Battalion HQ finally gave the retreat permission.
The problem was that after getting permission to retreat, I was running without looking back and got hit by an enemy air raid.
But considering I was alive and moved to the rear, and from what the human scum said, the retreat itself seemed to have been a success.
My body still hurts, but at least nothing's missing.
I can only hope that Klemens and the other company members are alright.
But that's that, and no matter how I think about it, staying like this is insane.
Vaguely imagining the horrors of the German-Soviet War and thinking I would surrender to the Allied Forces if I were deployed to the Western region or Afrika was on a completely different level from seeing a respectable superior officer die right before my eyes and almost dying myself.
On top of that, I got a real taste of the idiocy of the so-called Axis powers alliance.
What the hell is wrong with these Italian idiots, running away before even trying to fight?
And the other ally is the ever-glorious Empire of Japan. Wait, are they even an ally? Putting aside my hatred for the Empire of Japan as a Korean, did they do anything for the Axis powers besides the epic blunder of getting America to join the Allied Forces?
And more than anything else, I didn't want to shed blood for this damn Nazi Germany and the Axis powers.
I wasn't crazy enough to like lunatics like the Nazis, and I didn't want to walk into hellfire with those madmen.
Especially not with trashy, mad, human scum like the one lying in the next bed!
Of course, it's not like I believe in the Myth of the Clean Wehrmacht—the epic bullshit that the SS did all the bad things and the Wehrmacht just served honorably—or that everyone in the SS is trash.
There are scumbags in the Wehrmacht and normal people in the SS.
But that's what made it feel even more tragic.
Captain Kaufmann was a truly good person. What on earth did he die for?
As the company adjutant, I couldn't get too close, but I had lost too many subordinates with whom I had formed an attachment while sharing the hardships of the battlefield.
After World War II ended, the surviving German soldiers were said to have cried out. What had they shed their blood and fought for?
For those who fought and died for their fatherland, all that remained was the criticism of having fought for a criminal regime, and a Germany left in ruins.
That's the only path left in the German Military led by Hitler, that madman son of a bitch.
As soon as I'm discharged from the hospital, or when a superior officer comes to see me, I'll find out the company's situation and immediately submit a discharge application.
If it's not accepted, I was more than willing to act like a weak officer whose spirit was broken by a single injury.
Somehow, I'll get discharged first, and then I'll leave Germany.
I considered trying to persuade my family, but coldly speaking, while I might be able to persuade Klemens, it was hard to feel attached to a family I'd never met based solely on Dietrich's memories.
My father, Hjalmar Schacht, is still the Minister of Economy of the Nazi Regime, so it's not a realistic idea, and in the first place, this Dietrich guy was quite a hooligan and a playboy, so he didn't have many good memories with his family.
Fortunately, I was good at English as Yoon Sung-il back in Korea, and Dietrich is too, so let's try going to America.
So I decided.
…But was the god who dropped me in this shitty place ever going to let things go that smoothly?
-
The damn Dirlewanger's snoring kept me from sleeping well, so I was full of irritation, but the very next day after I woke up, the battalion commander, Major Edmund Beckers, came to visit me personally.
It was always the case, but now doing the Nazi salute really pissed me off.
Fortunately, I had injured my right arm and couldn't salute, and the Major understood.
“I'm glad to see you've woken up safely, First Lieutenant Schacht.
Ah, I don't know if you've heard, but you've been promoted for your military merit in the Battle of Guadalajara.”
“Thank you, Major! If it's not too much to ask, may I ask a question?”
“Mm, of course.”
I swallowed dryly and asked the question.
“What are our company's losses…”
I was planning to get discharged immediately, but I couldn't help but worry about the company members I had shared joys and sorrows with on the front line, even for a short time.
Honestly, I was prepared for the worst. If it came down to it, I just hoped Klemens was safe.
“17 killed, 14 wounded, 9 missing in action. Captain Kaufmann is…”
“…Killed in action, sir.”
“18 killed, 8 missing in action, then.”
Major Beckers corrected me in a calm tone.
I was prepared, but this is a bit much…
In modern warfare, a 20% loss of a unit's strength is considered annihilation. Of course, that's for modern military units with many attached supply units and support personnel, and a World War II infantry company is a different matter.
But out of the 101 total personnel since I first woke up as Dietrich, over 20 have been killed. It gave me goosebumps.
As I remained silent in shock, the Major continued.
“We suffered a major setback due to Italy's poorly-fought battle.
Thanks to your excellent judgment, First Lieutenant Schacht, we were able to retreat safely with minimal losses. Our entire battalion is in your debt.”
Excuse me? I honestly don't know what you're talking about. All I did was hold out until the retreat order came?
“I received a report from Second Lieutenant Fleck.
Even as the company was suffering massive losses in danger of encirclement because the Italian Army fled, you had platoons conduct a delaying action using buildings, buying time for the battalion to withdraw, is that right? Thanks to that, the Condor Legion's precious artillery and equipment were hardly captured, and we were able to retreat successfully.”
“Ah…”
Second Lieutenant Fleck would be Klemens.
So he's safe.
But what the Major said is certainly what I did.
That's right, but…
To be honest, it was partly because my head was hot from Captain Kaufmann's death and my troopers falling, but mostly it was the sense of crisis that I'd be up for a court-martial if I just ran away, that made me order the delaying action.
The troopers were on the verge of fragging (killing a superior officer) out of a desire to live if I didn't let them run away right then, so I just tried a little emotional appeal.
I told them our battalion had a lot of artillery and heavy equipment, so it would take time to withdraw, and if we didn't hold on even a little, the entire battalion would be sacrificed.
People tend to just rebel if you scream at them to die holding a position, but if you wrap it up as a noble act, it's more effective even if you're asking them to do the same thing…
But it seems Battalion HQ interpreted it as something like 'the heroic officer who was wounded while making a noble stand for the sake of the battalion, after rallying a company that had fallen into chaos after losing its commander'.
Oh, for God's sake.
No! I'm not going to become some model fascist hero that the Nazi bastards love to use for propaganda!
“Th-They were the Captain's orders.
I was merely carrying out his instructions.”
“Mm, you have an excellent attitude.
First, as the battalion commander, I express my gratitude, and you will be awarded the Wound Badge in Black to be established later. Know that the Iron Cross 1st Class will be awarded to you beforehand once your wounds have healed.”
The Wound Badge is one thing, but an Iron Cross 1st Class, that's grea— Ah, no, I'm grateful for the high praise, but I'm going to get discharged, mister!
“And First Lieutenant Schacht, upon your return, you will be the 2nd Company Commander. It's a bit early, but based on your actions in the last battle, it is the judgment of the superiors that you will have no problem as Captain Kaufmann's successor.”
“Ye-Yes?!”
N-No..
! This can't be happening! But my shocked reaction must have looked like I was surprised with joy to the Major, as he added with a faint smile on his grim face.
“You must be curious about the results of the Battle of Guadalajara.
I'll leave the combat report, so have a read. The staff officers praised your command as a very textbook delaying action, according to the combat report.
The home country is showing interest in you, so I expect you to continue your valiant fighting. Now, get some rest.”
Leaving only those words, Major Beckers departed. No, how can you, a superior officer, just say what you want and leave.
My despairing eyes fell on Dirlewanger, who was looking at me with a face that seemed to be contemplating whether to try to get friendly with me again.
Fight against the Allied Forces and the Soviet Union under the madman Hitler, alongside bastards like that?
…I'm screwed.