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It was fluent Padanian. Annette almost raised her head, momentarily thinking he was an ally. But the same voice continued in Frances, stopping her in her tracks.
“...Confirming survival...”
At the man's command, soldiers swarmed into the building. Annette lay face down on the floor, barely able to breathe.
“Get up! Get up!”
The enemy commanded in Frances. Annette hesitantly raised her head. But those around her remained crouched.
An enemy soldier kicked a civilian and shouted.
“─! Get up!”
The old man, whose stomach had been kicked, groaned, arched his back, and coughed. Only then did the others, understanding the meaning, hurried to their feet.
“Hey... he’s... a resident...”
“I died a lot from these guys….”
Although other enemies seemed to try to dissuade him, his hostility remained palpable.
Annette rolled her eyes and quickly scanned her surroundings. The allies she'd brought with her had already died in the previous firefight.
Suddenly, the Frances soldier, who had been talking about "rats," clapped his hands twice. All eyes turned to him. He took a step forward and smiled.
"Everyone, if you cooperate, we'll get you back safely. The situation just now was unavoidable. We suffered significant damage from the rats hiding everywhere and attacking us."
Annette's eyes widened without her knowing it.
Even listening again, it was fluent Padanian. The man's speech lacked any hint of a foreign accent. He could almost have been mistaken for a Padanian.
The man asked with his eyes narrowed, his face still smiling brightly.
“So, what were you doing here?”
“...Uh, we’re the wounded ones, and we were just hiding here! There are enemies outside...!”
“Aha, is that so? With the Padanian soldiers?”
"They thought we were surrounded and came to rescue us. And, oh, oh, we were civilians to begin with. We have nothing to do with it."
“Oh, that’s right!”
The nurse who came with Annette shouted.
"I'm a nurse! Under international conventions, civilians and medical personnel have the right to protection..."
“Ah, the agreement.”
The man cut the nurse off sharply.
“That’s assuming you don’t violate the right of engagement first.”
"Yes...?"
“Right now, in this street fighting, soldiers and locals are working together to shoot each other, so how are we supposed to tell who’s a rat and who’s an innocent civilian?”
“That, that.”
“Are you saying that we should spare those bastards who pretend to be civilians and throw bombs at our positions because they are also civilians?”
The man's voice sounded like he was complaining, but at other times, it sounded like he was just joking.
Annette quickly examined his uniform. His rank was Captain. His name was spelled "Frances" on his nametag. She read it slowly.
Elliot... Sidow.
It certainly wasn't a name or surname from Padania. She wondered if he was one of the Padanians who had fled to Frances, but that didn't seem to be the case. Of course, he could have changed his name.
The accent and expressions were so similar to someone who was born and raised here that she couldn't help but double-check.
"Well, that's okay. I heard the Padania military is fortifying one of the buildings here. Where is it?"
“...”
People looked at each other without answering. Annette didn't even know if they knew the answer to that question.
At that moment, the ally, who had been presumed dead, flinched and groaned. Elliot aimed his gun without even looking at him. Bang. The trembling body calmed down.
There was a gasp of breath here and there. Annette instantly pulled the child's head into her arms, preventing him from seeing the scene. Elliot muttered.
“If we don’t get an answer, we won’t be able to tell if the people here are soldiers or civilians... Should we hold them until we get an answer?”
The international convention previously mentioned by the nurse clearly specified the protection of civilians. However, it was limited to "those who do not participate in hostilities."
Elliot was essentially saying that he would consider the people present here as participants in hostilities.
“...Here is...”
A voice trembled so deeply it was almost pitiful. Elliot's dark brown eyes darted to her. Annette forced out the words.
“...There are old people and children.”
“So you don’t know what to do.”
The cynical sarcasm left her speechless. Indeed, most of the Frances soldiers looked utterly hostile.
From a third-party perspective, civilians are literally just innocent people, but that wasn't the case for soldiers who risked their lives every day in fear of death.
They felt that enemy civilians were collaborators with the enemy, targets of revenge who would kill their comrades and threaten their own lives.
That act should never be defended, but war has done just that. Historically, wars without civilian massacres are rare, if not unheard of.
The Huntingham Street Battle, in particular, involved civilians in a significant way. The enemy suffered enormous casualties, so nothing was going to be easily overcome.
The enemy killed as many of their own as our own. Too many were killed and wounded to warrant any agreement or recognition. Like the boy soldier Frances, whom she happened to treat...
"Uh?"
One of the Frances soldiers strode toward her, pointing with his finger. Annette looked at him, her shoulders trembling.
“Catherine!”
The man smiled brightly and raised both hands. He held a rifle in one hand. It was Private Frances, who had flirted with her earlier.
“Why the church... treatment...”
"... Yes?"
“Why are you here?”
“I took a different route earlier. The direction was...”
The man tilted his head. He seemed to be asking why she was here when they had clearly gone their separate ways. Annette struggled for a moment to come up with a suitable excuse.
Maybe you came here while wandering around looking for patients to treat? Or maybe you heard there were injured people here? But what if they asked you how you found those hiding?
“What is it, Nicolo?”
Elliot asked him a question. The man's name, it seemed, was Nicolo. The other Frances soldiers chuckled and said,
"Nurse?"
Elliot frowned, muttering to himself.
He looked between Annette and Niccolo, then spoke something to the soldiers in rapid Frances. Annette could only make out the word "woman."
What on earth did Elliot say? The Frances soldiers' faces lit up with shock at Elliot's words. They all stared at Annette in disbelief.
Annette watched anxiously, unable to grasp the situation. It was clear that something unexpected had happened.
The Frances soldiers were muttering among themselves. Niccolo's mouth was agape. Elliot turned his head and stared at Annette, speaking calmly.
“Right? You’re the Commander-in-Chief’s ex-wife.”
“Hey, is what you just said true?”
“What, you’re not sleeping?”
Jackson sat down next to Heiner with a groan. Heiner glanced at him and then finished breaking the log.
“Is it true that you’re just going to destroy something precious to you?”
"I don't know either."
“Oh, my God. This kid’s life is going to be miserable for the rest of his life.”
“It was like that from the beginning anyway. You and I.”
“Why am I there?”
Heiner chuckled at Jackson's blunt question.
"We can never live normally. That was decided from the beginning."
“Don’t be a jerk. I’m going to be so fucking happy when this is over.”
“What are you going to do when this is over?”
“After I become successful and make great strides, I should meet a kind and decent woman, get married, have children, and live together.”
“You have a big dream.”
“Son of a bitch.”
“...Confirming survival...”
At the man's command, soldiers swarmed into the building. Annette lay face down on the floor, barely able to breathe.
“Get up! Get up!”
The enemy commanded in Frances. Annette hesitantly raised her head. But those around her remained crouched.
An enemy soldier kicked a civilian and shouted.
“─! Get up!”
The old man, whose stomach had been kicked, groaned, arched his back, and coughed. Only then did the others, understanding the meaning, hurried to their feet.
“Hey... he’s... a resident...”
“I died a lot from these guys….”
Although other enemies seemed to try to dissuade him, his hostility remained palpable.
Annette rolled her eyes and quickly scanned her surroundings. The allies she'd brought with her had already died in the previous firefight.
Suddenly, the Frances soldier, who had been talking about "rats," clapped his hands twice. All eyes turned to him. He took a step forward and smiled.
"Everyone, if you cooperate, we'll get you back safely. The situation just now was unavoidable. We suffered significant damage from the rats hiding everywhere and attacking us."
Annette's eyes widened without her knowing it.
Even listening again, it was fluent Padanian. The man's speech lacked any hint of a foreign accent. He could almost have been mistaken for a Padanian.
The man asked with his eyes narrowed, his face still smiling brightly.
“So, what were you doing here?”
“...Uh, we’re the wounded ones, and we were just hiding here! There are enemies outside...!”
“Aha, is that so? With the Padanian soldiers?”
"They thought we were surrounded and came to rescue us. And, oh, oh, we were civilians to begin with. We have nothing to do with it."
“Oh, that’s right!”
The nurse who came with Annette shouted.
"I'm a nurse! Under international conventions, civilians and medical personnel have the right to protection..."
“Ah, the agreement.”
The man cut the nurse off sharply.
“That’s assuming you don’t violate the right of engagement first.”
"Yes...?"
“Right now, in this street fighting, soldiers and locals are working together to shoot each other, so how are we supposed to tell who’s a rat and who’s an innocent civilian?”
“That, that.”
“Are you saying that we should spare those bastards who pretend to be civilians and throw bombs at our positions because they are also civilians?”
The man's voice sounded like he was complaining, but at other times, it sounded like he was just joking.
Annette quickly examined his uniform. His rank was Captain. His name was spelled "Frances" on his nametag. She read it slowly.
Elliot... Sidow.
It certainly wasn't a name or surname from Padania. She wondered if he was one of the Padanians who had fled to Frances, but that didn't seem to be the case. Of course, he could have changed his name.
The accent and expressions were so similar to someone who was born and raised here that she couldn't help but double-check.
"Well, that's okay. I heard the Padania military is fortifying one of the buildings here. Where is it?"
“...”
People looked at each other without answering. Annette didn't even know if they knew the answer to that question.
At that moment, the ally, who had been presumed dead, flinched and groaned. Elliot aimed his gun without even looking at him. Bang. The trembling body calmed down.
There was a gasp of breath here and there. Annette instantly pulled the child's head into her arms, preventing him from seeing the scene. Elliot muttered.
“If we don’t get an answer, we won’t be able to tell if the people here are soldiers or civilians... Should we hold them until we get an answer?”
The international convention previously mentioned by the nurse clearly specified the protection of civilians. However, it was limited to "those who do not participate in hostilities."
Elliot was essentially saying that he would consider the people present here as participants in hostilities.
“...Here is...”
A voice trembled so deeply it was almost pitiful. Elliot's dark brown eyes darted to her. Annette forced out the words.
“...There are old people and children.”
“So you don’t know what to do.”
The cynical sarcasm left her speechless. Indeed, most of the Frances soldiers looked utterly hostile.
From a third-party perspective, civilians are literally just innocent people, but that wasn't the case for soldiers who risked their lives every day in fear of death.
They felt that enemy civilians were collaborators with the enemy, targets of revenge who would kill their comrades and threaten their own lives.
That act should never be defended, but war has done just that. Historically, wars without civilian massacres are rare, if not unheard of.
The Huntingham Street Battle, in particular, involved civilians in a significant way. The enemy suffered enormous casualties, so nothing was going to be easily overcome.
The enemy killed as many of their own as our own. Too many were killed and wounded to warrant any agreement or recognition. Like the boy soldier Frances, whom she happened to treat...
"Uh?"
One of the Frances soldiers strode toward her, pointing with his finger. Annette looked at him, her shoulders trembling.
“Catherine!”
The man smiled brightly and raised both hands. He held a rifle in one hand. It was Private Frances, who had flirted with her earlier.
“Why the church... treatment...”
"... Yes?"
“Why are you here?”
“I took a different route earlier. The direction was...”
The man tilted his head. He seemed to be asking why she was here when they had clearly gone their separate ways. Annette struggled for a moment to come up with a suitable excuse.
Maybe you came here while wandering around looking for patients to treat? Or maybe you heard there were injured people here? But what if they asked you how you found those hiding?
“What is it, Nicolo?”
Elliot asked him a question. The man's name, it seemed, was Nicolo. The other Frances soldiers chuckled and said,
“That nurse... I have a favor to ask... But Niccolo to a woman...”
Elliot frowned, muttering to himself.
He looked between Annette and Niccolo, then spoke something to the soldiers in rapid Frances. Annette could only make out the word "woman."
What on earth did Elliot say? The Frances soldiers' faces lit up with shock at Elliot's words. They all stared at Annette in disbelief.
Annette watched anxiously, unable to grasp the situation. It was clear that something unexpected had happened.
The Frances soldiers were muttering among themselves. Niccolo's mouth was agape. Elliot turned his head and stared at Annette, speaking calmly.
“Right? You’re the Commander-in-Chief’s ex-wife.”
***
“Hey, is what you just said true?”
“What, you’re not sleeping?”
Jackson sat down next to Heiner with a groan. Heiner glanced at him and then finished breaking the log.
“Is it true that you’re just going to destroy something precious to you?”
"I don't know either."
“Oh, my God. This kid’s life is going to be miserable for the rest of his life.”
“It was like that from the beginning anyway. You and I.”
“Why am I there?”
Heiner chuckled at Jackson's blunt question.
"We can never live normally. That was decided from the beginning."
“Don’t be a jerk. I’m going to be so fucking happy when this is over.”
“What are you going to do when this is over?”
“After I become successful and make great strides, I should meet a kind and decent woman, get married, have children, and live together.”
“You have a big dream.”
“Son of a bitch.”
Amy's soft moaning could be heard from inside the cave. It seemed she was tending to the injury she'd just received.
Jackson glanced inside and clicked his tongue softly. The space was so quiet and enclosed that every sound was audible.
“...I don’t know about marriage, but I will be successful.”
“What constitutes success?”
“Well, winning?”
“So, what you mean is that this operation was a success?”
"Well... It's 'this operation,' and I also want to make a name for myself in a proper battle later. I'm definitely going to become an officer. I'll get a house from the government and a medal."
Jackson took a cigar from his pocket and held it to the fire. Soon, the tip of the cigar burned bright red. He took a drag and muttered.
“We, too, deserve recognition.”
Jackson smiled faintly as the smoke dispersed.
“Shouldn’t that happen someday?”
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