.png)
"Huntingham must not be lost. Losing Huntingham means losing the Hutson River, which would mean giving the enemy a supply route. We must send reinforcements at all costs."
“Currently, the situation in Frances’s Central Army Group is good, so there is talk of dividing some of these troops and sending them to the relatively weaker north...”
“Are you saying we will continue to advance or stop?”
"We won't stop until we capture the city. That's something to think about later, and there are mountains of problems right now!"
"The movement of civilians is obstructing our forces' path. We must prohibit their movement."
"That's tantamount to forcing civilians into building the defense network! There will be children there, too!"
The meeting continued uninterrupted until dawn. Even after dismissing his staff, Heiner continued to receive reports via radio and review the operation.
At one point, his vision blurred, then cleared again. Thud. Two drops of blood fell onto the paper.
He absentmindedly ran his finger under his nose and found blood. Heiner took out a handkerchief and wiped his nose with annoyance.
He couldn't even remember the last time he had a good night's sleep. No matter how much work he did, it never seemed to end. It was like the endless stream of soldiers' corpses being carried out on stretchers.
His hand, wiping away a drop of blood that had fallen on the paper, paused for a moment. Seeing the bright red blood, the scene from "that day" seemed to replay like a nightmare.
The red water sloshing in the bathtub, and the body hanging limply like a doll with its strings cut...
Heiner raised his head and looked at the large map pinned to the wall. His gaze lingered on the central front, marked by a blue line. It was noticeably more prominent than the northern and southern fronts.
"...Ha."
He wiped his face with a soft sigh.
According to reports, Annette had followed the procession, rather than remaining at the hospital. However, a war involving a search operation was raging in Huntingham. Her safety could not be guaranteed until the very end.
He deliberately sent her to the rear, where he thought she'd be safest, but the front lines there had been pushed back. If she were ever put in danger, he wouldn't be able to bear it.
Danger...
Looking back, it was always he who put that woman in danger. Her danger, her pain, her sorrow, her misfortune—all stemmed from him.
And they came back to him in their entirety, a complete defeat.
Heiner closed his eyes and sank deeper into his chair.
He had thought he would never be defeated. But every time he thought that way, he was slowly losing.
Heiner slowly removed the handkerchief from his nose. His hands were shaking as if by habit. He clenched his fists. The handkerchief crumpled in his grip.
It's all over.
She was flowing away. So far away that he couldn't hold on any longer.
‘But why am I...’
Still here, alone, thinking of her over and over again.
I've spent my entire life on you, so does this mean my life without you ends here?
Heiner stared blankly at the circle of blood on the paper. The trembling in his hands slowly subsided. In the silence, he asked himself a question.
'What do I have left?'
Counting them one by one, he realized they were all things he had never wished for. No, they were all things he had obtained for the one thing he had hoped for in the first place.
“Isn’t it hard?”
For the one thing he's been wishing for...
“Just, everything.”
A faint light returned to his once-empty eyes. His surroundings gradually became clearer. Finally, he reached out and picked up his pen again.
The bleeding stopped immediately. Heiner tossed the handkerchief on the desk and turned over the still-bloodstained documents. He read, reviewed, signed, and reread them, a mechanical process.
The dried bloodstains faded as the pages progressed, completely disappearing by the third or fourth page. Only the stark letters remained, etched on the white paper.
Heiner moved his pen. Black ink spread across the paper. His name was etched into the signature line along the tip.
Heiner Valdemar
We had to defend the central front.
For a country where someone can live.
By the time Huntingham's wounded and medical personnel were evacuated from the city, the enemy had rapidly advanced and taken control of most of the city's outskirts. With the outer defenses breached, friendly forces retreated to their inner defensive lines.
The Frances Air Force unleashed indiscriminate bombing on Huntingham. Under the weight of 1,300 bombers, Huntingham was reduced to a sea of fire.
Padania mobilized every manpower it could muster. They mobilized not only soldiers but also civilian volunteers to build a defensive line.
Annette joined the rescue operation, carrying medical supplies and heading into the outskirts of the city. Most of the outskirts were already under enemy control, so encountering them was inevitable.
“What’s that over there!”
The enemy shouted something in Frances. Annette raised both hands and answered in broken Frances.
“I am a nurse.”
“You... Padania... come here...”
The Frances soldier babbled something, but Annette could only make out a few words. She approached them with alacrity.
Private Frances asked Annette a series of questions. But he seemed completely uncomprehending, clicked his tongue, and gestured toward the side of the military vehicle.
Annette turned her head to where he was pointing. A soldier was lying on a stretcher.
“Treatment... treatment?”
"Yes!"
Annette nodded quickly and walked towards him, turning around briefly to avoid being noticed.
Judging by the lack of commotion, it seemed that the allies were moving safely while Annette was distracted.
She quietly breathed a sigh of relief and approached the stretcher. The man she was dealing with was a boy soldier, his face youthful, perhaps sixteen years old at most.
"Ugh..."
"For a moment."
Whether he had been near a dead or not, half of the boy's body was covered in burn marks. His right arm, in particular, was in a horrific state, its flesh completely torn off and crushed.
Annette quickly took out some disinfectant and bandages and began to treat the boy. The boy groaned like a dying animal, his wounds in agony.
Actually, there was no time to do this, but with the person dying right in front of her eyes—and a young boy at that—it was something she couldn't do carelessly.
Annette, her bandages carefully tied, sorted through her belongings. As she picked up her bag and stood up, she heard Padanian speaking nearby.
"Thank you."
“Huh─.”
Annette almost tripped in surprise, but her partner grabbed her by the waist. Her eyes widened as she stared at the man who had approached her.
“Oh, sorry.”
"Yes, yes...?"
“I thought the job was done.”
Listening again, the man's Padanian was a bit awkward. He seemed to be a Frances who could speak Padanian.
“Ah... It’s okay.”
Annette awkwardly pulled herself out of the man's embrace. He scratched the back of his head and stepped back.
“Because he’s still a baby.”
“Huh? Oh, that soldier.”
“He’s a baby, and he got hurt a lot.”
“Um... yes. You... speak Padanian.”
“I’m good at listening, but I’m not very good at speaking.”
"Yes..."
“I love Padanian food. I learned a little bit of the language.”
"Yes..."
She couldn't figure out what he was going to do. Was he trying to show off his knowledge of Padanian?
Annette felt a little anxious. There was no benefit to staying here too long. The odds of a foreigner recognizing the Commander-in-Chief's ex-wife were slim, but she still wanted to know.
“Where are you going?”
“Just... over there.”
“It’s dangerous there.”
“I’m a nurse. A nurse.”
“But it’s still dangerous.”
“Thank you for your concern, but I’m fine. Well then...”
Annette spoke quickly, deliberately disregarding the other person's language level. As Annette turned to turn, the man muttered, "Uh-huh," and quickly stood in front of her.
“─?”
"Yes?"
“I want to know your name.”
“...Catherine.”
Annette didn't hesitate long before giving her a pseudonym. The man smiled brightly and imitated her pronunciation.
“Catherine.”
“I’m sorry, but I’m busy. Can I go now?”
"Hmm?"
“I have to go.”
“Oh, you know Frances?”
Annette frowned. It seemed like this person wasn't communicating. He seemed to understand what she was saying, but...
The Frances soldiers playing cards nearby were pointing and giggling. It was so fast she couldn't hear them, but it was clear they were teasing.
The word "woman" was heard here and there. Even though she couldn't understand it, Annette could guess what was being said, so she bit her lower lip. There really wasn't time for this.
“Currently, the situation in Frances’s Central Army Group is good, so there is talk of dividing some of these troops and sending them to the relatively weaker north...”
“Are you saying we will continue to advance or stop?”
"We won't stop until we capture the city. That's something to think about later, and there are mountains of problems right now!"
"The movement of civilians is obstructing our forces' path. We must prohibit their movement."
"That's tantamount to forcing civilians into building the defense network! There will be children there, too!"
The meeting continued uninterrupted until dawn. Even after dismissing his staff, Heiner continued to receive reports via radio and review the operation.
At one point, his vision blurred, then cleared again. Thud. Two drops of blood fell onto the paper.
He absentmindedly ran his finger under his nose and found blood. Heiner took out a handkerchief and wiped his nose with annoyance.
He couldn't even remember the last time he had a good night's sleep. No matter how much work he did, it never seemed to end. It was like the endless stream of soldiers' corpses being carried out on stretchers.
His hand, wiping away a drop of blood that had fallen on the paper, paused for a moment. Seeing the bright red blood, the scene from "that day" seemed to replay like a nightmare.
The red water sloshing in the bathtub, and the body hanging limply like a doll with its strings cut...
Heiner raised his head and looked at the large map pinned to the wall. His gaze lingered on the central front, marked by a blue line. It was noticeably more prominent than the northern and southern fronts.
"...Ha."
He wiped his face with a soft sigh.
According to reports, Annette had followed the procession, rather than remaining at the hospital. However, a war involving a search operation was raging in Huntingham. Her safety could not be guaranteed until the very end.
He deliberately sent her to the rear, where he thought she'd be safest, but the front lines there had been pushed back. If she were ever put in danger, he wouldn't be able to bear it.
Danger...
Looking back, it was always he who put that woman in danger. Her danger, her pain, her sorrow, her misfortune—all stemmed from him.
And they came back to him in their entirety, a complete defeat.
Heiner closed his eyes and sank deeper into his chair.
He had thought he would never be defeated. But every time he thought that way, he was slowly losing.
Heiner slowly removed the handkerchief from his nose. His hands were shaking as if by habit. He clenched his fists. The handkerchief crumpled in his grip.
It's all over.
She was flowing away. So far away that he couldn't hold on any longer.
‘But why am I...’
Still here, alone, thinking of her over and over again.
I've spent my entire life on you, so does this mean my life without you ends here?
Heiner stared blankly at the circle of blood on the paper. The trembling in his hands slowly subsided. In the silence, he asked himself a question.
'What do I have left?'
Counting them one by one, he realized they were all things he had never wished for. No, they were all things he had obtained for the one thing he had hoped for in the first place.
“Isn’t it hard?”
For the one thing he's been wishing for...
“Just, everything.”
A faint light returned to his once-empty eyes. His surroundings gradually became clearer. Finally, he reached out and picked up his pen again.
The bleeding stopped immediately. Heiner tossed the handkerchief on the desk and turned over the still-bloodstained documents. He read, reviewed, signed, and reread them, a mechanical process.
The dried bloodstains faded as the pages progressed, completely disappearing by the third or fourth page. Only the stark letters remained, etched on the white paper.
Heiner moved his pen. Black ink spread across the paper. His name was etched into the signature line along the tip.
Heiner Valdemar
We had to defend the central front.
For a country where someone can live.
***
By the time Huntingham's wounded and medical personnel were evacuated from the city, the enemy had rapidly advanced and taken control of most of the city's outskirts. With the outer defenses breached, friendly forces retreated to their inner defensive lines.
The Frances Air Force unleashed indiscriminate bombing on Huntingham. Under the weight of 1,300 bombers, Huntingham was reduced to a sea of fire.
Padania mobilized every manpower it could muster. They mobilized not only soldiers but also civilian volunteers to build a defensive line.
Annette joined the rescue operation, carrying medical supplies and heading into the outskirts of the city. Most of the outskirts were already under enemy control, so encountering them was inevitable.
“What’s that over there!”
The enemy shouted something in Frances. Annette raised both hands and answered in broken Frances.
“I am a nurse.”
“You... Padania... come here...”
The Frances soldier babbled something, but Annette could only make out a few words. She approached them with alacrity.
Private Frances asked Annette a series of questions. But he seemed completely uncomprehending, clicked his tongue, and gestured toward the side of the military vehicle.
Annette turned her head to where he was pointing. A soldier was lying on a stretcher.
“Treatment... treatment?”
"Yes!"
Annette nodded quickly and walked towards him, turning around briefly to avoid being noticed.
Judging by the lack of commotion, it seemed that the allies were moving safely while Annette was distracted.
She quietly breathed a sigh of relief and approached the stretcher. The man she was dealing with was a boy soldier, his face youthful, perhaps sixteen years old at most.
"Ugh..."
"For a moment."
Whether he had been near a dead or not, half of the boy's body was covered in burn marks. His right arm, in particular, was in a horrific state, its flesh completely torn off and crushed.
Annette quickly took out some disinfectant and bandages and began to treat the boy. The boy groaned like a dying animal, his wounds in agony.
Actually, there was no time to do this, but with the person dying right in front of her eyes—and a young boy at that—it was something she couldn't do carelessly.
Annette, her bandages carefully tied, sorted through her belongings. As she picked up her bag and stood up, she heard Padanian speaking nearby.
"Thank you."
“Huh─.”
Annette almost tripped in surprise, but her partner grabbed her by the waist. Her eyes widened as she stared at the man who had approached her.
“Oh, sorry.”
"Yes, yes...?"
“I thought the job was done.”
Listening again, the man's Padanian was a bit awkward. He seemed to be a Frances who could speak Padanian.
“Ah... It’s okay.”
Annette awkwardly pulled herself out of the man's embrace. He scratched the back of his head and stepped back.
“Because he’s still a baby.”
“Huh? Oh, that soldier.”
“He’s a baby, and he got hurt a lot.”
“Um... yes. You... speak Padanian.”
“I’m good at listening, but I’m not very good at speaking.”
"Yes..."
“I love Padanian food. I learned a little bit of the language.”
"Yes..."
She couldn't figure out what he was going to do. Was he trying to show off his knowledge of Padanian?
Annette felt a little anxious. There was no benefit to staying here too long. The odds of a foreigner recognizing the Commander-in-Chief's ex-wife were slim, but she still wanted to know.
“Where are you going?”
“Just... over there.”
“It’s dangerous there.”
“I’m a nurse. A nurse.”
“But it’s still dangerous.”
“Thank you for your concern, but I’m fine. Well then...”
Annette spoke quickly, deliberately disregarding the other person's language level. As Annette turned to turn, the man muttered, "Uh-huh," and quickly stood in front of her.
“─?”
"Yes?"
“I want to know your name.”
“...Catherine.”
Annette didn't hesitate long before giving her a pseudonym. The man smiled brightly and imitated her pronunciation.
“Catherine.”
“I’m sorry, but I’m busy. Can I go now?”
"Hmm?"
“I have to go.”
“Oh, you know Frances?”
Annette frowned. It seemed like this person wasn't communicating. He seemed to understand what she was saying, but...
The Frances soldiers playing cards nearby were pointing and giggling. It was so fast she couldn't hear them, but it was clear they were teasing.
The word "woman" was heard here and there. Even though she couldn't understand it, Annette could guess what was being said, so she bit her lower lip. There really wasn't time for this.
Comments
Post a Comment