War Stories

Chapter V: Birth of a Legend

An emergency meeting had been called for all squad commanders to assemble in the office of Captain Varrot to discuss the recent developments of the war. While information was reported and changing by the minute as new intelligence was gathered, the inklings of a strategy were quickly worked out. While the counter-offensive was being planned, the concern that these strategies were hastily thrown together was at the forefront of everyone's mind, yet it was a doubt no one was willing to voice.

The invasion had taken Gallia by surprise. The ferocity of which the offensive had begun was brutal to say the least. However two points had proven an oversight in the Empire's blitz attack. First, they seemed to have underestimated the Gallian willingness to fight. The attack was halted before the Imperials could invade the capital, thus they were halted at Vasel Bridge. This led to the second great oversight. Their supply lines would be long and terribly difficult to defend given their overstretched resources.

Thus the plan was set into motion. The northern forces were tasked with attacking the supply lines, limiting the resources the Imperial Army could rely upon for the duration of the war, while the southern forces were ordered to do hit and run tactics on the command posts. That left the central forces tasked with defending the capital, and their first order of business was to take back the great Vasel Bridge.

As Welkin marched towards the barracks with Alicia following closely behind, he began working the nervousness from his fingers. He would be addressing his squad for the first time, and notify them that the mission to retake the bridge was scheduled to take place three days hence. As it was, not for the first time he wondered what his father would do in this situation, how would he so effortlessly prepare his soldiers and give the orders that may well cost them their lives.

As he reached the barracks door, he hesitated for no other reason than to steady his nerves. This was it, the moment he would need to introduce himself, ready his troops, and hide the fact that he really had no idea what he was doing. Alicia took that moment to grab his hand and offer a supportive squeeze to remind him she was there.

Startled out of his musings, he turned his attention to her and offered a grateful smile, squeezing her hand back before releasing it and turning his attention forward. Setting his jaw, he took a deep breath, squared his shoulders and entered the barracks.

No sooner had he stepped across the threshold than a gruff voice barked, "Atten HUT! Fall in Seven!" He could only assume that it was staff sergeant Largo Potter who called for the squad to come together and greet their commanding officer. Welkin watched as they had all assembled collectively, offering a stiff salute as he returned the gesture.

"At ease," he replied, allowing a brief moment for the squad to assume a casual stance as he trained his eyes on each of them. He had memorized the file of every soldier in his squad and was satisfied knowing they had assembled based on role assignments as was the Gallian way.

"I am Lieutenant Welkin Gunther, commander of squad 7." A great sense of unease settled within him as many with the ranks repeated the name. Gunther was the name of a great hero of the last war, the savior of Gallia, many had called him, and there were equally as many who believed that if the general were still alive, his presence alone would have caused the Empire pause before attacking Gallia. In that moment, Welkin understood how truly large his father's shoes were.

Welkin allowed only a moment for the name to sink in before he continued. "In case you have not heard of recent events, the Empire has taken Vasel Bridge. It falls on us to take it back. The militia will be running a tandem operation with the Central Gallian military to reclaim that bridge.

"You all know the close proximity of that bridge to the capital, you know how many refugees are in this city...you know what's at stake if we cannot reclaim that. Failure is not an option. We've all been through standard combat training in school, and as I understand each of you have been training for the past three weeks since being drafted into the militia.

"We're going to add a little caveat to that training regiment. You've all been training based on your assigned position, but today, you are going to be assigned a four man unit within the squad. Sergeant Melchiott will be handing out squad assignments when we finish the debrief.

"Trust takes years to build, and just as long to foster and I'm asking you to trust the people in your unit in three days. Not an easy task, but this is the hand we've been dealt. Once you've been given your assigned team, I want the entire squad assembled in the training grounds in twenty minutes." With that, Welkin stepped back, allowing Alicia to begin providing the files to each member of the squad with the names of those in their unit. When finished, Alicia joined Welkin who offered a terse nod and left the barracks with his second-in-command in tow.

When out of ear shot, he turned to the young woman. "So, how'd I do?"

"You sounded official," she replied with a supportive smile as she continued to match his pace.

"Thanks," he answered softly as he fixed his eyes straight ahead. There was nothing more to be said at the moment, Welkin's own musings he wished to keep to himself. He saw their reactions, the look in their eyes as he gave his name and he could not help but wonder how many of them hoped he would be as much of a military savant as his father. They seemed to trust him, and he prayed he could live up to their expectations.

-0-

As the afternoon progressed onward, Welkin and Alicia made their way through the training grounds. The purpose of the impromptu drills was to give each unit familiarity with their own squad mates. Abilities and aptitude aside, the largest concern was personalities and whether they could function as a team. If a disagreement between unit members seemed to escalate, their appointment to a specific group would be dutifully noted and adjustments would be applied.

The intention for the smaller units would be to flank enemy positions and provide recon when necessary, but the ability to break off from the main force in the midst of a firefight would be greatly advantageous if the opportunity presented itself to provide covering fire to divert the enemy's attention. But for that to work, the members of the squad would need to trust each other, and that was a tall ask in the short time allotted to them.

The issue that did arise however was Sergeant Largo Potter and Corporal Brigitte Stark standing in the out of the way recesses of training grounds and being less than subtle about their dissatisfaction taking orders from a young man with no formal military training who was still attending university.

To second guess a commanding officer was a serious breach of military protocol, but what made the issue worse was two other units who seemed to be uneasily listening to the boisterous outcry of the large lancer and the snarky shock trooper. This was not something that could be overlooked, and Welkin considered for a moment whether this was some test or hazing ritual within the military, the more seasoned officers taking pot shot at the new, less experienced officers as a way to test their resolve or mettle.

Whatever it was, Welkin was not going to let it stand as he asked Alicia to continue her rounds of observing the troops while he made his way to the pair. As he reached the pair of officers, he stood, subsequently ignored by the pair before making his presence known. "A word Largo," Welkin stated as he fixed his best authoritative glare at the bigger man, who simply scoffed at the young lieutenant.

"In a minute bossman, we're talking here."

"That wasn't a request sergeant!" Welkin fired back, and while he felt his temper build, he restrained his emotions, understanding fully that the large man was baiting him into an argument in front of the squad to prove his inability to lead. Without waiting for the a response, Welkin turned on his heel and marched to the entry tunnel that connected the training grounds with the military compound within the city.

Taking a couple deep, calming breaths he finally turned his body towards the training field and awaited the large man's arrival. For his own part, Largo took his time to arrive, walking into the tunnel at a leisurely pace as though unconcerned by the order of being reprimanded by his commanding officer. When he at last came to stand before the young man, he reached into his breast pocket and retrieved a cigarette and matches, lighting up a smoke before waving his hand to extinguish the match and drop it to the ground.

Opening his mouth in what was likely prepared to be a snide comment, Welkin beat him to it. "Do you mind explaining what you were doing out there?"

"Pretty sure you already got a good idea bossman," Largo said, his disregard for Welkin's position blatant in his dismissal. "I think it's a sad state when our military has to assign commanding officers greener than the grass all on the basis of your name."

The jab was not unexpected but stung regardless as Welkin narrowed his eyes and squared his jaw. "I understand how you feel Largo, believe me, I had the same questions for Captain Varrot when she assigned me as commander of Squad 7."

"The captain put you in charge?" Largo replied, his eyes scrutinizing the endorsement from his long trusted friend. He knew she would only assign the position based on merit, not nepotism. Still, he could not understand what would prompt her to assign such a vital role to this newcomer. "Wh-what did you say exactly."

"The details of our conversation is a matter between the captain and myself. Suffice it to say, she assured me that my rank assignment had nothing to do with my family name, but rather my handling and supervision of the evacuation of Bruhl and every refugee camp between there and the capital."

As Welkin fell silent, Largo scrutinized the young man with a newfound appreciation. The entire city had heard of the mass of nearly 300 refugees led by a very small protective force, all while being chased by the Imperial Army. The name of who had let them to safety was never disclosed, but it did result in Largo's appreciation of his tactical prowess to go up a notch.

"But none of that is important. If you have an issue or concerns about me, bring it to my attention, behind closed doors. Do not EVER question me in front of the squad. We do not need doubt or second-guessing each other when we're preparing to face a formidable force that has already fortified their position.

"I read your files Largo," Welkin said, his eyes drilling into the older man and showing him a strength of spirit he did not expect from the young Lieutenant. "Veteran of EWI, you turned down command commissions repeatedly to stay with your troops. That kind of commitment, and your experience is exactly what we need to support the younger, less experienced recruits. But if you don't think you can work under me, say the word, and I'll have you reassigned."

A barking laugh erupted from Largo's lips as he threw his head back at the perceived joke Welkin had levied. "If my experience is so valuable, you really think you can afford to toss me aside bossman?"

"Tell me which you think is the bigger detriment? Losing your experience? Or losing a soldier casting doubt in the minds of his squad mates before a major conflict? I aim to protect my country, protect my home and protect my squad, with or without Largo."

It was an empty threat, both men knew it. Welkin did not have the authority to remove Largo from Squad 7, but that did not mean he would not pull him from the rotation, and for a soldier of Largo's caliber and commitment to his duty, that was unthinkable. Even if the threat was empty, it still lingered as a very real outcome if Welkin believed his presence was harmful to the morale of the squad.

There seemed to be an understanding that passed between the two men in that moment. Not one forged of battle hardened comrades, not yet at least, but an understanding that they both accepted and acknowledged that the only way they would make it out of this war was for them to work together. Welkin, a young man thrust into a heavy burden, not only as squad leader but living up to the name of his father, who was able to assess a situation, find ways to circumvent the expected route and develop his own solution. And Largo, veteran of the first Europan War, the seasoned soldier struggling to keep up with the innovations and advancements of technology and new, ever-changing rules of warfare, who knew full well that while the 'old' ways may have changed, they still hold some significance in the theater of war.

Neither man said anymore nor did they voice any further disheartened emotions on the state of affairs within the country or the world itself that had seemed to go mad with warlords and tyrants echoing call to arms within the border of every nation within the continent. There was too much discord, too much resentment and trust within the world, and Welkin Gunther would be damned if he let it fester in his own squad.