Trenches, Guns, and Magic

The engineering team from Demag arrived at the instruction unit garrison that very morning.

Five men came in total. The leader was a balding man in his early forties named Hermann Thiel, the chief engineer of the half-track armored vehicle project.

He brought two assistant engineers and two technicians responsible for chassis design. They even lugged along a massive stack of technical blueprints for the vehicles.

Morin led them into the instruction unit's conference room, where Paulus had already unrolled a large-scale map of Eastern Europa on the table.

"Mr. Thiel, I won't beat around the bush."

Morin traced an area on the map with his finger.

"There is a possibility that the half-track armored vehicles will be deployed to this region in the future, joining the combat order of the Eastern Front Army Group."

Thiel leaned in, squinting at the place names marked on the map. Subtle changes rippled across his face.

"Rus...?"

"Correct. And during the autumn rasputitsa."

"..."

Thiel fell silent for two seconds, then slowly exhaled.

He naturally understood what the Eastern European Plain in autumn meant. As an engineer who had dealt with vehicles for so long, the rasputitsa—the mud season—was no stranger to him.

"Colonel, sir... If I may be frank."

Thiel pushed his glasses up his nose, choosing his words very carefully.

"The performance of the existing light and medium half-track armored vehicles on standard roads and general cross-country terrain fully meets all standards. This has been verified through extensive prior testing, including the acceptance tests conducted by the Army Ministry... But if we're talking about the Eastern Europa region during the rasputitsa..."

"The ground pressure is too high?" Morin finished his thought.

"Yes, sir... Currently, the track width for the light vehicles is 240mm, and for the medium vehicles, it's 280mm. This is sufficient for standard secondary roads and general field terrain."

Thiel nodded and continued, "But if the soil moisture content exceeds a certain threshold, the existing ground pressure will cause the vehicles to sink directly into the mud, unable to extract themselves. Not to mention, one variant of the medium vehicle is also mounting the PAK 15 anti-armor gun..."

"Then we switch to wider tracks."

Morin spoke decisively, picking up a pencil from the table and rapidly sketching a diagram on a piece of scratch paper that was far too detailed to be called a mere outline.

This was something he had quickly whipped up using the 【Scientific Research】 interface while waiting for the Demag team to arrive.

As long as it didn't involve complex principles and only required designing mechanical structures, the blueprint generation speed of the 【Scientific Research】 system was much faster than Morin had imagined.

Of course, this was also because these technologies originated from another world in Morin's memory and had long been proven effective.

"Install detachable, wide-track extension plates on the outer edge of the existing running gear... No need to alter the current suspension or drive structure. Just extend additional support surface area outward from the base of the original track pads."

Morin explained as he drew. "Remove them during normal travel on paved roads, and have the crew install them before entering muddy terrain."

Thiel and the other engineers gathered around to look at Morin's sketch. Their expressions shifted from initial doubt to thoughtful contemplation.

"Detachable extension plates..." Thiel muttered, rubbing his chin. "This idea is quite interesting... Colonel, sir, what are your thoughts on the connection method?"

"Just secure them with locking pins. No need for overly complex mechanisms. After all, it's an emergency solution... As long as the soldiers can complete the installation within fifteen minutes using onboard tools, that's enough."

Morin paused, then added, "While you're at it, redesign the front wheel fenders to prevent mud from caking up inside when driving through muck."

Listening to Morin's suggestions, Thiel had already started making notes on the blueprints he brought. After a quick review, he was surprised to find that Morin's casual sketch possessed a high degree of operational feasibility...

"There is another issue."

Morin turned to the two engineers responsible for chassis design.

"Based on my observations of the test vehicles last time, the positions of the air intake and exhaust pipes probably need to be raised... The standing water and mud during the rasputitsa can sometimes submerge the undercarriage. With the current air intake height in that environment, it's only a matter of time before the engine floods and stalls."

The two engineers exchanged a glance. The slightly older one spoke up: "Raising the air intake isn't difficult. We can just add a snorkel tube to the side of the hull. As for the exhaust pipe... we'll need to modify the position of the muffler as well."

"Then modify it."

Morin stood up, setting down his pencil. "Time waits for no man, Mr. Thiel... I need you to finalize the modification plans as quickly as possible, and they must be compatible with the vehicles currently rolling off the mass production lines."

Fine beads of sweat popped out on Thiel's balding head. He felt like a student who had just passed his middle school entrance exams, suddenly being told to prepare for university entrance exams...

But this was the garrison of the instruction unit, and the man sitting across from him was the "Great Saxon Imperial Star" overwhelmingly promoted in the newspapers.

More importantly, following the previous acquisition, the man was also Demag's largest shareholder...

"We will do our utmost, Colonel, sir."

Aside from discussing the half-tracks' cross-country capabilities, Thiel and his team also reported on the vehicle production status.

Based on the demands of Morin and the Imperial Army, the half-track armored vehicles currently entering mass production at Demag and several other licensed companies had actually been subdivided into different variants.

One was the smaller, light half-track armored vehicle, designated for forward reconnaissance, communications, and as a company command vehicle.

The other was the larger, medium vehicle, primarily designated as a personnel carrier, while possessing a degree of armor and anti-infantry firepower.

Based on the medium vehicle chassis, they had also derived an "Armored Tank Destroyer" equipped with a 50mm anti-armor gun, as well as command and communication vehicles for regiment-level units and above.

Additionally, a "Fire Support Vehicle" equipped with a light mortar was currently in the testing phase...

After the meeting concluded, as Thiel was packing up his blueprints, he couldn't resist asking an off-topic question: "By the way... Colonel, sir, have you previously studied the engineering problems of tracked vehicles in extreme terrain? The modification directions you proposed are highly... targeted, and the sketch you drew has extremely high reference value!"

To this, Morin merely smiled.

"I know a little. Just a little~"

After sending off the Demag engineering team, Morin returned to his office to tackle the documents piled on his desk.

As he signed papers, he thought things over. The half-track issue was temporarily settled, but a mountain of problems remained.

Especially the mobility of Armored Knights on muddy terrain... There truly was no short-term solution for this. He could only hope for a better transport solution in the future.

As for ensuring the forward delivery of ammunition and fuel, he would have to wait until the unit expansion was complete before comprehensively considering the vehicle allocation for the supply detachments.

However, right now, an even more pressing matter required his attention...

Over the past few days, news of the Army high command preparing to detach core personnel from the instruction unit to bolster other main force units had been circulating among the instruction unit's mid-level officers and frontline NCOs.

"Have you heard? The General Staff is going to dismantle us."

"What do you mean 'dismantle'? They're drawing a portion of personnel out, not disbanding the instruction unit... You idiot, all you have in your head is shooting!"

"Isn't that the same thing? If the people are transferred away, can it still be called the instruction unit?"

"Anyway, I don't want to leave... I just want to stay here."

"Who doesn't?"

Similar conversations popped up in every corner of the garrison daily.

When Kleist found Morin one afternoon, his expression was a bit more troubled than usual.

"Commander, the situation isn't looking optimistic."

He placed a statistical spreadsheet on Morin's desk. This was a summary of preferences compiled from surveying all officers and NCOs. Aside from a few members who joined the instruction unit relatively recently, the vast majority of officers and NCOs explicitly stated they did not wish to be transferred.

Morin flipped through the spreadsheet, his mouth twitching slightly. This was both good news and bad news for him...

It was naturally a good thing that his officers and soldiers felt an attachment to the instruction unit. But from a long-term perspective, scattering instruction unit members across the various main force units yielded more benefits than drawbacks.

He closed the spreadsheet, leaned back in his chair, and interlaced his fingers over his stomach.

"Ewald, do you think this detachment... is a good thing or a bad thing for the instruction unit?"

Kleist hesitated.

As the instruction unit's executive officer and Morin's old partner, his first reaction was naturally that he didn't want their people to be broken up.

But he wasn't entirely lacking in political acumen. Since Morin asked in that tone, the answer was likely contrary to his instinctual thought.

"...The Commander supports this detachment?"

Morin spread his hands.

"This has always been the duty of the instruction unit, Ewald..."

He stood up from his chair, walked to the window, and watched the soldiers conducting physical training on the parade ground.

"From the very beginning, when we established the instruction unit, we should have foreseen this day... Or rather, this is the true meaning behind the instruction unit's existence! We are not the Imperial Army's precious darlings, not pearls locked away in a safe... We should be like mature dandelions..."

"Dandelions?"

"Yes. When they mature, they scatter their seeds, taking root wherever they fall."

Morin turned around, continuing, "Otherwise, why would the Empire's high command go through so much trouble to create an 'instruction unit'? Why not just form an elite division and be done with it?"

Kleist fell silent for a while, mulling over Morin's words.

"I understand the logic... but they might not accept it. Especially since news that the instruction unit is about to expand has also gotten out; everyone feels staying here offers better prospects."

"That's why we need to do some ideological work."

After watching the physical training outside for a bit, Morin returned to his desk and sat down.

"You, Paulus, and Klaus, split up and talk to the core personnel in each company... Stabilize their emotions first. As for the specific arrangements, assemble all officers and NCOs tomorrow; I will speak to them personally~"

"Understood!"

Kleist nodded, picked up the statistical spreadsheet from the desk, and prepared to leave. When he reached the door, he turned back.

"Commander... I have a question, but I'm not sure if I should ask..."

"Out with it! Don't play games in front of me!"

"The General Staff is poaching our people, yet you don't seem displeased in the slightest. On the contrary... why do I feel like you're actually quite happy about it?"

Hearing this question, Morin merely raised an eyebrow, his expression management practically flawless.

"Lieutenant Colonel Ewald von Kleist, are you questioning your commanding officer's loyalty to the Empire?"

"No, no, of course not—"

"Then hurry up and get to work!"

Kleist chuckled, quickly leaving and closing the door.

But his intuition told him his commander was likely plotting something he couldn't see through...

Early the next morning.

In the largest conference room within the instruction unit garrison, all mid-level officers and frontline NCOs were assembled.

This large auditorium was normally used for large-scale tactical wargaming and sandbox instruction. Today, the desks and chairs had been rearranged to face the podium at the front.

When Morin walked in, the entire room stood up with a crisp swish!

"Sit."

Morin stood behind the podium without bringing any documents.

In the front row sat Kleist, Paulus, Klaus, and other regimental officers. Behind them sat the officers and NCOs of the various battalions, companies, and platoons.

"I'll get straight to the point. You've probably all heard—the General Staff plans to detach a group of officers and NCOs from the instruction unit and transfer them to other main force units."

As soon as he said this, some in the audience shifted uncomfortably, their chairs issuing faint squeaks.

"Yes, the news is true."

Morin's sharp gaze swept over everyone present as he continued, enunciating every word, "And it's set in stone. There is absolutely no room for negotiation... You should understand my meaning."

He paused for two seconds, letting the reality of this fact sink in completely.

"I know most of you don't want to leave... Lieutenant Colonel Kleist showed me the spreadsheet. You lot act like you want to nail a house number to the instruction unit's barracks and become permanent residents."

A few low chuckles rippled through the audience, easing the tension slightly.

"I understand your desire to stay."

Morin's voice slowly leveled out.

"From having nothing to being where we are today, every battle, every training reform—everyone here was a part of it... The sweat and blood you've shed here cannot be erased by a single transfer order."

"However, I must make a few things clear."

Morin gripped the edges of the podium, leaning slightly forward.

"Why did you come to the instruction unit in the first place?"

This question made many pause. For the large number of personnel who joined during the instruction unit's expansion, the answers flashing through their minds were mostly related to the "glorious exploits" of the instruction unit and Morin himself.

Morin on the stage continued, "The title 'instruction' in instruction unit wasn't chosen at random... From day one, our position wasn't just to be a pure elite combat unit—we are the spark for the entire Army."

"The entire Imperial Army's new tactics, new strategies, new training systems were born here... But if these things remain forever confined within the instruction unit, their value is limited to the strength of this single reinforced regiment."

"On the current battlefield, where opposing forces routinely face off in numbers of hundreds of thousands or even a million, what can one reinforced regiment change?"

The audience fell silent.

"Nothing at all."

Morin answered his own question.

"No matter how elite we are, the position a reinforced regiment can hold is only so large, the defensive line it can breach is only so wide... But what if the experience and spirit of the instruction unit could be brought to ten divisions? Twenty divisions?"

"That is a completely different story!"

Morin straightened up, sweeping his gaze across the faces in the audience.

"Those among you who are selected to go to new units are not going there to be ordinary officers and NCOs. You are going as seeds!"

"When seeds are scattered into the soil, they seem to disappear from their original pot... But come spring next year, what grows from that earth will be worth far more than a single pot of flowers."

As Morin spoke, the atmosphere in the audience shifted from when they first entered. Some had their heads bowed in thought, while others began exchanging frequent glances with their comrades.

Seeing the effect, Morin struck while the iron was hot.

"Let me be honest with you... If you stay in the instruction unit, you will naturally continue to fight and win battles. But what about room for promotion?"

"Our instruction unit is only so big, there are only so many spots... The expansion will open up some new positions, but ultimately, there is a ceiling above us."

"But what if you go to a main force infantry division? You all know the caliber of the junior officers in those units; compared to everyone here, they are definitely lacking..."

"So when you go there, you go to form the backbone, to prop up the entire unit. Do you really think you'll be short on promotion opportunities?"

This sentence had a palpable effect in the auditorium.

The expressions of several young officers and NCOs shifted... Clearly, to some young people, the allure of promotion was very tangible.

"And there is one thing I can guarantee you."

Morin paused, making sure everyone was listening.

"No matter which unit you are transferred to, the instruction unit designation will not disappear from your resumes... Within the Army system, the weight of an 'instruction unit background' will only grow heavier and become your best 'gold standard'!"

"Everyone here is our own people, so I'll say something not entirely modest... The battles you fought following me, the things you've learned—these are experiences other units might not be able to offer in a lifetime! When you bring this experience into a new environment, it becomes your confidence and your capital."

Morin paced halfway across the podium, looking to the other side.

"As for your emotional attachment to your old unit... I understand that, of course."

His tone softened slightly.

"You are men of the instruction unit. That fact will never change just because you change units... No matter where you go in the future, this identity follows you for life."

"Everyone sitting here today may gradually scatter throughout the Imperial Army. When we look back in a few years... several regimental commanders will have emerged from among you here today, perhaps even brigade and division commanders!"

"When that time comes, I believe you will recall the day you were drawn from the instruction unit to serve as a benchmark!"

"And I also believe that in that moment, not a single one of you will regret the decision you made!"

His speech, akin to a brainwashing session, reversed the resistance of the majority in a short time.

After all, the greater room for promotion in other units was an indisputable fact.

Furthermore, the instruction unit was full of elites. Simply standing out was difficult in itself... But going to other units was a completely different story.

After the meeting concluded, Morin jokingly wished "you officers" smooth sailing in the various Army units in the future, completely putting everyone at ease.

The officers and NCOs quickly dispersed in groups. Morin, Kleist, and the others also left the conference room. But not long after stepping outside, they saw Manstein, who had left the meeting halfway through, jogging toward them holding a piece of telegram paper.

"Commander! New developments in the Mediterranean! The Britannians' Malta naval port has been captured by the three-nation combined fleet!"

"That fast?" Hearing this news, Morin was somewhat surprised, and the 【Intelligence】 interface rapidly generated several related notifications in succession.

Before Morin could read them closely, he heard Manstein continue: "Commander, they say the other six 'Thunder Warriors' who were transferred away employed tactics similar to the Budapest 'Operation Ghost.' They played a crucial role, allowing the combined fleet to conclude the battle with considerable ease..."

Hearing Manstein's words, the expressions of the others grew complex, and they all eventually focused their gazes on Morin.

The latter quickly realized what everyone was thinking and simply laughed in exasperation.

"Why are you all staring at me like that? No matter how formidable those Thunder Warriors are, won't it ultimately trace back to me, making me look even more formidable?"

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