The Diary of a Pig Teammate's Rescue Day

The miserable days were short-lived. After half a month of polishing, these noble officers finally began to look like soldiers.

At this stage, the training content shifted; beyond pure physical conditioning, military command courses were introduced.

The curriculum was highly targeted, focusing exclusively on urban warfare. Franz had handpicked these cases, naturally claiming it was because he was interested in the subject.

Since everyone possessed a basic military foundation, the lectures were not difficult to follow. Compared to the previous physical training, many showed genuine enthusiasm.

This is where our true strengths lie. Treating us like common grunts—what kind of nonsense is that?

Albrecht sneered and said, "Alright, I'm finished! In your squads, assume the enemy is attacking Vienna and draft a corresponding defense plan; or, assume the enemy has already occupied Vienna and we are launching a counterattack—draft a corresponding combat plan."

"You have three days. I will grade you. Anyone who fails proves their military command ability is substandard, meaning you are nothing but a brute. In that case, you might as well go back to physical training!"

A chill descended upon the room. Many faces fell into expressions of misery, their eyes turning toward their teammates in desperate expectation.

If my military command ability is substandard, I'm just a brute. If one were branded with that assessment, their military career would be over—that was a minor issue. The real problem was that everyone still had their pride to consider.

They were all young men; who would willingly admit to being a brainless brute?

No one doubted that Albrecht was capable of following through. It was a family tradition.

Back when Archduke Charles carried out his military reforms, he had done the exact same thing: he turned a group of nobles he deemed unfit for officer roles into common grunts, forcing them to resign.

Those retired noble officers truly had "no future to speak of."

Within noble circles, legends of them still circulated; they were known as the shame of the Austrian nobility.

Nobles in the Germany region maintained a tradition of military service, and everyone was groomed to be an officer from childhood. After a dozen years of immersion, even a pig would be a cultured pig!

In short, the Austrian nobility of this period had not yet completely degenerated; they still possessed a sense of honor.

Even during the Austro-Prussian War, the combat effectiveness displayed by the Austrian army remained at the forefront of the European Continent.

Of course, the City Defense Force might be an exception—perhaps it represented the lower limit of the Austrian military, where the decadence of Vienna had eroded the officers' willpower.

Who could say for sure? The most critical task now was to save these eight hundred wayward youths, pulling them back from the brink of corruption so that the upcoming March Revolution of Vienna would no longer be a problem.

"How is it, Albrecht? Are there any good seeds among this lot?" Franz asked.

"I'm afraid I have to disappoint you. Their level can only be described as barely passable. They have too many debts to repay in their education. Let's see how they fare once they've filled those gaps," Albrecht replied, shaking his head.

"What about serving as company or platoon officers? Right now, if we were to dispatch them to the troops to command a company or a platoon, how much combat effectiveness could they exert?" Franz asked with concern.

"Your expectations for them are truly low. Most of them are currently unfit to serve as frontline commanders. If forced to use them, they could probably exert about sixty or seventy percent of a unit's combat potential," Albrecht mused.

Receiving this answer, Franz couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. With that level of combat effectiveness, it was nearly enough to handle the coming situation.

"Then let's give them another round of remedial training. Regardless of their ability, at least these people are loyal and hot-blooded. You don't have to worry about them turning into deserters!" Franz said with a smile.

It was worth his personal visit. With the City Defense Force and the Imperial Guard in hand, the overall situation was essentially settled.

"That is true; they are at least better than those old foxes in the City Defense Force. But Franz, what is the point of this? There is no war right now. Do you intend to use them to replace those old foxes?" Albrecht asked, puzzled.

"Replacing so many officers at once would cause too much of an impact. We can use the pretext of 'training' to arrange them into the units as deputies. Then, we organize an armed drill and let them take command to see the results!" Franz lied without changing his expression.

Even he didn't believe his own words. Had he gone to all this trouble just to replace the parasites in the City Defense Force?

Fortunately, this was the European Continent. If this were in the East, any Crown Prince who dared to do this would be met with the immediate reaction: Oh no, the Crown Prince is plotting a rebellion!

Franz didn't elaborate, and Albrecht didn't bother to press him. In any case, this was an order issued to him personally by Ferdinand I, and Franz was currently in charge of supervising the City Defense Force.

The question of rebellion didn't even need to be considered; such things had no market in Europe. Besides, Franz didn't need to do anything; he would be able to serve as regent in two or three years anyway.

Everyone knew the situation with Ferdinand I—he would not have an heir. Once Franz reached the proper age, he would exercise the Emperor's power as the Crown Prince, wielding even more authority than the current Regency Council.

If he wanted to be Emperor, he could just wait for his uncle to pass away! Franz had absolutely no reason to take such a risk.

Otherwise, Albrecht wouldn't have bothered to go along with his schemes, and these noble officers wouldn't have been so willing to follow his lead.

"Fine, suit yourself. As long as you don't cause any chaos, I will cooperate with you," Albrecht said helplessly.

In Albrecht's view, this was just youthful impulsiveness; Franz wanted to achieve something of his own.

He had gone through this age stage himself and knew that opposition was useless—the more you forbade him, the more he would insist on doing it.

Judging by the current situation, everything Franz was doing remained within the rules; he wasn't just making a mess of things.

On the surface, Franz was preparing to replace the decadent noble officers with young ones, which would not trigger a strong backlash from the noble class.

To everyone, this wasn't considered out of line. The meat was still in the pot, so to speak, and these nobles relied on these military positions to make a living.

Perhaps if a noble officer were sent home, the one replacing him would be his own son, or his brother, or at the very least, a distant relative.

If Franz were promoting commoner officers, Albrecht wouldn't be so easygoing; class standing was not something that could be abandoned.

If Franz knew his thoughts, he would definitely tell him he was overthinking it. Promoting commoner officers in this era? That would be pure nonsense.

Setting aside external factors, looking solely at military literacy, the two sides were not on the same level.

Unless one was a natural-born genius, training a soldier who couldn't read a single word into a qualified officer was a process measured in years.