Durin's Diary

Chapter 631 Believe
As a major who was good at observing people's expressions, Rota certainly understood that the officer appointed by Lord Durin would definitely not be a good-for-nothing like him.

So he followed Lieutenant Colonel Willy and kept an eye on his arrangements as best he could.

First, he surveyed the battlefield, expressed dissatisfaction with the equidistant placement of machine guns, and demanded that more machine gun positions be built—there could be vacancies, but there must be extra positions for adjustment.

Secondly, he led the team to the front line, walked out of the trenches to understand the terrain of the front line, confirmed and rearranged the barbed wire, thickened the minefield, and left a depression.

"The greenskins are a very stupid race, and their stupidity is reflected in their arrogance. This is a trap we left for them. If they dare to come again next time, we will use this trap to torture them severely."

After saying that, Lieutenant Colonel Willy, who had changed into combat uniform, turned his head and looked at Rota: "Major Rota, don't you have anything to do?"

"On the contrary, it's my job to follow you and understand your arrangements," Rota replied somewhat awkwardly.

The young lieutenant colonel smiled and said, "Okay, follow me. Don't get tired."

Rota just thought he was joking - what a joke, Lieutenant Colonel Willy, one step of mine is equivalent to two steps of yours. If you can make me tired, then the sun must really rise from the west today.

With this thought in mind, Rota finally collapsed from exhaustion in the trench and slumped on the sofa in the salon.

"I counted your steps. You walked more than 20,000 steps today. Don't underestimate that Lieutenant Colonel Willy. His physical fitness can beat you. Can you do it?" Prince Zaigu sat down next to Rota and gave him a cigarette.

"He warned me, but I thought it was a joke from the lieutenant colonel." Rota wiped his nose. He didn't know that Lieutenant Colonel Willy could take him for a whole day, from the layout of the open space at the front of the defense line to the selection of the machine gun positions.

At lunchtime at noon, the lieutenant colonel walked into the dining area and was warmly welcomed by his soldiers. The tall-hoofed soldiers happily lifted him up high.

This made Rota, a southern boy who was only 1.7 meters tall, very sad.

There was no way, Lieutenant Colonel Willy was small in stature, but he wore a pair of big glasses on his face.

It is said that his poor eyesight is due to a disease he contracted when he fled his hometown with his parents as a child. When magic could cure it, he had no money, and when he had money, even magic could not cure this stubborn disease.

But it’s okay. After Colonel Willy’s day of running around, even an outsider like Rota felt that he was really capable.

Especially after his colleagues in the staff salon put the data he had copied down today on the blackboard one by one.

All the major generals were amazed.

Machine gun positions can always provide cross-fire to the positions that are most likely to form a breakthrough. Although the front-line positions are built in a jagged pattern, the veterans shook their heads at the sight of them - these trenches are crisscrossed and extremely narrow, which not only prevents the attacking orcs from entering, but also allows small soldiers to use them as cover.

Lieutenant Colonel Willy placed all the large soldiers on the second line, and at the same time dug small tunnels and holes in the first line trenches to provide small soldiers with a place to retreat and hide.

The large green-skinned orcs could not enter, and even their hunting dogs had difficulty entering because of their large size.

As for the fart spirits, this small subspecies of greenskin can enter the trenches, but the new army of Durin, whose every soldier is equipped with a pistol, usually finds it difficult to enter the trenches alive in front of this creature that even the grassland elves can kill with their fists - they either die from unknown ranged injuries on the way of charge, or are accidentally trampled to death by their big greenskin relatives.

"This child is only fifteen years old. He has not had adequate nutrition since childhood. He is also a grassland elf. Even the deer bloodline on his mother's side couldn't make him grow tall. But he only studied in Lord Durin's military academy for half a year... It's amazing." Lord Locke Walter was the first to express his opinion.

Duke Alessandro even sighed: "This is why Lord Durin recognized the significance of the emancipation of serfs. Willy Valavash is the descendant of serfs, but his talent is like gold. If his parents had not been determined to take him away, there would be no such lieutenant colonel in the world." Lieutenant Colonel Willy's parents were escaped slaves from the North. Now, as the Grand Duke and the prince of the Northern Kingdom, they sighed like this. In addition to making Rota feel that the northerners have really changed, it also expressed a sense of regret.

At dinner time, Rota brought His Highness Locke and introduced him to Lieutenant Colonel Willy.

"Hello, Your Highness Locke. Principal Dulin mentioned you to us, the children of escaped slaves from the North. He said that you were very sympathetic to us, but the environment at the time did not allow for such sympathy." Lieutenant Colonel Willy smiled and shook hands with Your Highness Locke.

"I am truly grateful for what Lord Durin has said. Fate has forced you to spend your childhood adrift, thank goodness." His Highness Locke sighed and said, "Let's have a simple meal together."

"Aren't you going to the officers' area?" Lieutenant Colonel Willy asked with a smile.

"When I fled the north, I too ate black bread in the snow that was harder than iron. I had to dissolve it with water, and it gave me a stomachache. But life is full of ups and downs." Having said this, His Highness Locke smiled and looked at Rota. "But having said that, Lord Rota is truly remarkable. He had dinner with Rovsky yesterday, and he had dinner with us today. I never thought that, as a count's child, you'd be able to endure hardship."

Rota had no choice. As the only living person under His Highness Zaigu, he could only keep an eye on the Lieutenant Colonel and observe his food, clothing, housing and transportation... if possible.

But because of this, his stomach has been feeling uncomfortable these past two days.

There was no way. His stomach was used to eating good food, so he was really not interested in the black bread mixed with sawdust.

In fact, this bread was not the food for Dulin's new army, but was provided by Dalindi.

However, the soldiers of Durin's new army had obviously gotten used to this kind of food. They had a very strong tolerance. Rota even watched Rovsky and Willy telling jokes while spreading jam on bread to make sandwiches - this was the only difference between them, the officers, and the soldiers.

Their jam ration is about fifty grams more.

Compared with the difference between the steak dinner of the Savoy officers and the sour, hard and sandy black bread of the Savoy soldiers, the difference in diet between the officers and soldiers of the Turin New Army was really almost non-existent.

Fifty grams of jam, the grassland elves will have an extra twenty grams of sugar, and Lieutenant Colonel Willy, as an officer, will have an extra bag of sugar.

Everyone knows that sugar is essential for grassland elves to maintain a clear mind.

Because of this, such a tiny difference is unacceptable to other armies - if a colonel-level officer can eat so badly, not to mention Savoy, some people in the Northern Kingdom and Sidney military would have already started to throw plates.

But in Turin's new army, no one would throw plates for this.

Rota didn't dare to say whether such a new Dulin army was better.

But he instinctively believed that in such an army, at least their soldiers were willing to live and die with their superiors.

why?
Do we even need to ask why? You let the soldiers choose for themselves whether to charge into battle with the officer who eats and lives with them, or to die with the officer who eats steak and drinks champagne.

The soldiers just don't know how to deploy troops, but they are not idiots or fools. If there are equally excellent superiors, they will of course follow the one who is more willing to treat them well and share the joys and sorrows with them.

(End of this chapter)