A Costly Victory

"What are you all standing around shouting for?! Is the battle over?! Spread the hell out! Move!"

He strode forward and kicked a soldier square in the backside.

"Corporal Jonah, Corporal Baumann, and you!" He pointed at another corporal. "Take your squads forward by section, covering each other in turns! Clear out any enemies left in the village!"

"Remember! Unless they resist, you do not fire on civilians! Is that clear?"

"Yes, Second Lieutenant!"

The three corporals snapped out of it. This was no time to celebrate. They immediately led their men into the village to fight street by street.

Once the main force broke through the front and closed in for hand-to-hand combat, the Royal Army's resistance in the village quickly collapsed.

These troops lacked both training and organization. They could manage to fire a few shots from a distance...

But no one could expect them to have the nerve to cross bayonets with those ferocious Saxon soldiers.

Some Royal Army soldiers saw which way the battle was going and slipped out the far side of the village before it was even over.

Those too slow to flee were either shot dead on the spot or obediently threw down their weapons and surrendered.

San Isidro had fallen to the Saxons.

After the battle, the casualty report was quickly submitted to Battalion Headquarters.

The figures left everyone silent.

Yes, the Royal Army's will to fight was poor—only a little better than troops who fired into the air the moment the enemy appeared.

Yet this was the very force so many Saxon soldiers had dismissed before the battle. It had exacted a heavy price from the 1st and 2nd Companies as they charged in the main assault.

The two companies' command structure had been gutted. More than twenty-five percent of their officers and thirty-five percent of their soldiers were casualties, severely reducing both companies' fighting strength.

That meant that on the very first day of the war, Major Thomas's 1st Battalion had effectively lost nearly half a company's worth of men...

The contrast with Captain Hauser's 3rd Company was stark—especially Morin's 3rd Platoon.

Throughout the entire assault on the left flank, the 3rd Platoon had miraculously suffered no combat casualties at all.

Two soldiers had sprained their ankles crossing the riverbed, and another had gotten so excited during the final charge that he tripped over his own feet...

For all practical purposes, they had taken no casualties.

What was more, the postbattle count showed that the machine-gun position they had knocked out from the flank, together with the Royal Army infantry who had tried to reinforce it, amounted to at least forty men.

Zero losses for forty enemy casualties. The exchange ratio was almost unbelievable.

When Captain Hauser entered the village with his company staff and found Morin, the rough-spoken commander could no longer contain himself.

He rushed over and pulled Morin into a crushing bear hug, then thumped his shoulders with both hands. He kept repeating the same few words.

"Well done! Damn well done, Morin!"

The soldiers of the 3rd Company around them looked at the new platoon leader, who had taken command only yesterday, with a mixture of awe and admiration.

Until now, their respect for the young second lieutenant had come mostly from his rank.

Now it was wholehearted and genuine.

Soldiers, especially those on the front lines in wartime, respected strength.

He could talk himself hoarse, but nothing would win them over like leading them to more victories and bringing more of them home alive...

The 1st and 2nd Companies had suffered losses in the assault and urgently needed time to regroup and treat their wounded.

So once the main force had cleared the village, the task of establishing its outer defenses naturally fell to the 3rd Company, which had suffered the fewest losses.

Captain Hauser took the bulk of his men to the side of the village facing Seville—the direction from which the enemy might counterattack—and built a defensive line around the surviving buildings and low walls.

Infantry of this era had not yet developed the concept of trench warfare on a large scale, and Morin had not seen a single soldier in the company carrying a shovel.

A defensive line generally meant making use of buildings and whatever earthen walls were already there.

Morin and his 3rd Platoon remained responsible for defending the village's left flank.

Drawing on what he had learned at two military academies, one before and one after his transmigration, and with the help of the System Map, he quickly directed his soldiers to build their defenses.

"Sergeant Klaus, sorry for the trouble, but get that captured Vickers Machine Gun over here and set it up on the platform by the mill on the right. If there are any sacks of grain nearby, stack them in front of it!"

"Corporal Jonah, take the 1st Squad and set up interlocking fields of fire at the gap beside those houses!"

"Corporal Baumann, the 2nd Squad will keep watch over our left flank and the village interior! Tell the villagers to stay inside their homes!"

Clear, precise orders came from him one after another.

Morin also assigned observation posts around the perimeter, along with both visible and concealed sentries.

The Saxon Empire's soldiers had never encountered arrangements like these, but once Morin patiently explained his orders and what he needed, they soon understood.

Platoon Sergeant Klaus and the corporals now followed Morin's orders without question. They immediately set their men to work.

Before long, a defensive position had taken shape on the village's left flank, centered on the captured Vickers Machine Gun and supported by several dispersed firing points. It had some depth and interlocking fields of fire.

Morin could not help appreciating how useful an oversized, eighty-man infantry platoon was.

Whether building defenses now or attacking earlier, he had found it remarkably easy to put his plans into action. With so many men at his disposal, he could afford to deploy them almost extravagantly.

Once the defenses were in place, Morin joined Sergeant Klaus at the Vickers Machine Gun Position.

Klaus had once had the chance to use this Britannian heavy machine gun during an exchange between the two armies, so he could teach the other soldiers how to operate it—though only the basics of feeding ammunition, aiming, firing, and clearing simple jams.

Maintenance and repairs did not matter for the moment.

The captured heavy machine gun had very little ammunition. Morin reckoned one proper defensive battle would empty it, like one of those bonus weapons in a game that came with limited ammo.

After inspecting it, Sergeant Klaus concluded that the gun had suffered no real damage and was fit to use.

He then began instructing two soldiers hastily assigned as gunners, hoping to teach them to fire it as quickly as possible.

Morin had the four corporals arrange shifts for their squads, then ordered most of the soldiers to get some rest while they could.

Before long, the 1st Battalion's Command Headquarters moved forward into a small chapel near the center of the village that was still largely intact.

Captain Hauser brought Morin along to Battalion Headquarters, where Morin could see that Major Thomas, the battalion commander, looked grim.

They had taken the village, but the cost had been so high that he would have a hard time explaining it to Brigade Headquarters.

Still, when he saw Morin, he made an effort to rally himself. He offered the young officer a few words of encouragement for his outstanding performance and promised to put him forward for a commendation.

After a brief conversation, Major Thomas told Captain Hauser and the 3rd Company to be ready. Taking San Isidro was not the end but the beginning of the campaign, and fiercer fighting lay ahead.

The news weighed heavily on Morin. San Isidro, a village on the outskirts of Seville, was plainly meant to slow the Saxon advance.

But even this village had a machine-gun position... Seville's defenses could only be stronger.