Conquer Europe from the West

Chapter 50 The Emperor Takes Turns, Next Year It’s My Turn

After spitting out all the smoke in his mouth and the tobacco stuck on his tongue and lips, Ryan twisted the butt of the cigarette with his hand and then laughed.

"Then Fernando will have a hard time when he returns home."

He held the butt of his cigarette in his hand, leaning against a wooden stake that was half a head shorter than him. His eyes reflected the image of Fernande who was trying to brush the mud off his butt.

The young noble non-commissioned officer probably hadn't thought about this, because he was still struggling with whether his appearance was suitable to appear in the headquarters of the 17th Army.

After a few seconds, the old sergeant laughed out loud himself and leaned against the wooden stake like Ryan.

But what Ryan cares more about now is what the old sergeant had said about him before.

After graduating from military academies, officers of the empire are basically nobles, as long as their grades are not too bad.

This is what Ryan heard in the imperial capital. It came into his ears when two warrant officers were chatting.

Therefore, from that time on, Ryan felt that he was just a commoner even though he was a lieutenant or even a captain, and there was obviously something wrong with him.

But he was too embarrassed to ask someone to retrieve his information, and coincidentally he found out today.

but……

It seems to suit my style quite well.

Exhaling another puff of smoke, Ryan looked at the soldiers who were moving the corpses together and thought to himself.

As someone who grew up in a country where people say things like "The emperor takes turns, and next year it will be my turn", Ryan knows very well that there is actually no difference between those nobles and ordinary people.

They are neither noble nor powerful, and some may even live worse than ordinary people.

If the title of nobility was exchanged for the opportunity to continue studying in the military academy or even take the general officer course, Ryan would definitely choose not to have the title of nobility without any hesitation.

The military is such a place.

Even if someone is a noble, as long as he is on the battlefield, military rank is the most important thing.

There is no joking in the army, orders are strictly enforced, this is the army.

Lieutenant Brinkman, the previous observer lieutenant, and Lieutenant Schneider are typical examples.

They were all one rank lower than Ryan, and would immediately choose to obey the orders of officers of higher rank than themselves.

This is what has allowed Ryan to hold on to the front line until now.

But after all, this world does not develop completely according to rules.

Just as the people of the Seventh Army were still wary of themselves in the early hours of yesterday morning.

If Ryan wants to survive better in this damn place where a world war has broken out, he can't rely solely on this little military rank.

He suddenly remembered what Brian had done before.

The accountant sent by Brian specifically told Ryan that he had the patent for Esco's explosion-proof wall and could get a share of the money.

At that time, Ryan didn't know why Brian did such a thing, nor did he know why Brian cared so much about this matter.

It is worth mentioning that Brian is not a nobleman, and he made the same choice as Ryan.

But now I think about it, it was probably because he gave up the opportunity to be a noble and live a life of wealth and glory, and chose to study the officer course.

I can only say that it was all coincidence.

Suddenly, Ryan felt a burn on his hand.

He quickly dropped the cigarette butt to the ground and stomped on it twice. The soldiers around him were still cleaning up the battlefield. Perris, riding a sidecar motorcycle, also returned to the headquarters with Fernande and Pierre.

Ryan could see several rows of trucks coming out of the main road of Mulhouse. Their narrow wheels, similar to those of later motorcycles, rolled over the road and then, as expected, got stuck in the fields that were plowed very soft by artillery fire.

Everyone in both cars immediately climbed out and began trying to push the truck out of the ground.

They shouted loudly, but the car didn't move.

"A bunch of idiots."

Ryan cursed softly.

The old sergeant glanced at Ryan, and then found that he was scolding the truck driver: "It's a truck after all. It's heavy and difficult to drive."

"Wouldn't it be better if the wheels were made wider?" Ryan shook his head and took the matter to heart.

He decided to have a good talk with Brigadier General Brian about this matter when he returned to headquarters.

And, just as the soldiers of the Second Battalion were cleaning the battlefield with a relaxed or complicated mentality.

Seven kilometers away, at the headquarters of the Farlan First Army, there was chaos.

General Louis Bonnot, commander-in-chief of the First Army, had practically the entire headquarters reduced to rubble, with broken benches, broken glass from kerosene lamps, wicks blackened by mud, and countless aerial photographs lying on the ground.

A dozen colonels and lieutenant colonels stood in the corner of the headquarters. They were wearing gorgeous officer uniforms and clean and tidy flat-top military caps. Any one of them looked like a real man.

But now they are all standing there timidly. If they didn't have good looks, they would probably be mistaken for high school students who are over the age limit but still haven't graduated.

"Who can tell me why three regiments of people can't even capture Mulhouse?"

Louis Bonneau roared and kicked away the last intact chair. He then threw the torn map he had torn into the face of a division commander of the Second Army of the First Army: "How many people do you have left now?"

"Thirty thousand riflemen and a hundred guns, General!"

The major general, who was almost the same age as Louis, spoke in a calm and composed voice, but his face looked no different from that of a rotten egg.

There is no other reason.

The 2nd Infantry Regiment that initially launched the attack was under his command.

The same was true of the 1st and 3rd Infantry Regiments.

At this time yesterday, he had received intelligence that the Second Infantry Regiment had successfully broken through the Imperial Army's third trench. However, less than 24 hours later, his three regiments had been completely wiped out...

Even in the border wars during the Kingdom period, the Farlans had never been defeated so completely.

Perhaps it was because it was a long-overdue era of war, and Farlan had not achieved any decisive results in its invasion of the empire's borders.

Otherwise, he could guarantee that if he said a wrong word now, this day next year would be his death anniversary.

Then, he heard an order that was like making this day next year the anniversary of his death.

Louis Bono took a deep breath through his big nose, the tip of his huge mustache trembled slightly, and the hot air from his mouth sprayed on the face of the major general.

"You have 24 hours. I order you to drive out all the Imperial troops in Mulhouse within 24 hours."

As he spoke, he glanced at his watch and the hour hand was exactly at eleven o'clock.

Then he uttered another hissing word from between his teeth.

"If I can't eat fresh bread on the main avenue of Mulhouse at noon tomorrow, I think you know better than anyone what the consequences will be, Major General Craona de Damon."

(End of this chapter)