Chapter 10: Rest Assured, The Enemy Will Surely Scatter at First Clash!

As a former military academy student, Morin had studied military history before his time travel. When discussing the evolution of infantry assault tactics, his instructor had emphasized the early battles of the First World War.

That was an awkward and brutal era for infantry soldiers. At that time, infantry units still fought in dense formations, a tradition from earlier line tactics. Although the spacing between soldiers had widened to one or two meters, to Morin, it still amounted to a form of lined-up execution.

This grim reality persisted until the advent of machine guns, which mercilessly claimed countless lives and forced a change in combat tactics.

Clearly, the infantry in this new world Morin found himself in was stuck in that same "awkward period." Moreover, this world appeared to possess so-called "magic" and "magical technology," posing an additional severe threat to foot soldiers exposed on the battlefield.

Morin felt genuinely anxious. He understood that machine gun fire was indiscriminate—whether officer or common soldier, anyone caught in the sweep would be cut down like wheat.

Trying to maintain the outward composure befitting a Saxon soldier’s valor, Morin cautiously asked, “Company commander, do we have any intelligence on the enemy’s troop deployment in the village that is our objective?”

Upon hearing this, Captain Hauser’s face lit up with a look that said, “Good, I knew you’d ask that.”

“The battalion has dispatched scouts to circle the village perimeter,” Hauser said, drawing a circle around the village on the map with the tip of his pencil.

“So far, we can confirm that the Kingdom Army of Aragon is garrisoned there. However, to avoid alerting the enemy, the scouts kept their distance, so the exact number of troops remains unknown.”

A taciturn lieutenant platoon leader added, “Sir, will there be artillery preparation?”

“Of course,” Captain Hauser nodded confidently. “A battalion from the divisional artillery regiment will deliver three rapid barrages on the village before the assault begins. That should be enough to shatter the courage of those Kingdom soldiers.”

Hauser then took a pocket watch from his pocket and addressed the three platoon leaders: “It’s currently 4:37. The assault will commence promptly at 5:07. Prepare your squads accordingly.”

The impromptu operational briefing ended as the two other platoon leaders turned and left.

Before Morin could depart, Hauser approached him, clapped him firmly on the shoulder, and lowered his voice in a tone of senior-to-junior encouragement.

“I know you just graduated from the academy and this is your first combat experience. It’s normal to be nervous.”

“You don’t seem to have a pocket watch or wristwatch,” Hauser continued. “That won’t do. As an officer, you must have a reliable timepiece to keep track of the schedule.”

Morin suddenly realized what had been missing. The original owner of his current body had lost his pocket watch when captured.

They had no time to retrieve it after being rescued, so aside from the system interface he had, Morin possessed no tool to tell the time.

Hauser summoned his orderly and asked him to fetch a cloth pouch from his gear.

“This is my old pocket watch. My wife gave me a new one before departure, so this one has been sitting idle. Here, you take it for now.”

“Sir, this is too valuable...” Morin was surprised because pocket watches were still considered a luxury item in this era.

“Take it. I don’t want you to miss anything because you lose track of time!” Hauser said firmly, pressing the pouch into Morin’s hand before continuing.

“Relax, Morin. Those Kingdom soldiers in the village are mostly conscripted farmers with poor morale and training. It’s very likely that the first and second companies charging in will end the fighting quickly, and the reserves won’t even have to step in.”

“Thanks for your vote of confidence, sir.”

“Hmm, get your troops ready,” Hauser replied.

“Yes, sir!”

Morin saluted and returned to his platoon’s rest area.

He knew well that Hauser’s last words were half reassurance, half underestimation.

Such sentiments were common in the Saxon army. They harbored an almost blind faith in their own combat effectiveness while simultaneously despising their enemy.

This mindset bolstered morale when the tide was favorable but could lead to catastrophic defeat if the battle turned against them.

Back at his unit’s rest zone, Morin found Sergeant Klaus inspecting the soldiers’ equipment.

“Sergeant Klaus, the attack order has come. We will launch the assault in about half an hour.”

Klaus’s stern face betrayed no emotion, but his movements paused briefly.

“Yes, sir,” he replied gravely. “I will have all squad leaders conduct the final checks to ensure every soldier is in top condition.”

The seasoned veteran understood that this was their unit’s first bloody battle in a foreign land.

“Rest assured, I will assist you in commanding the troops well.”

Klaus added this, easing Morin’s nerves somewhat.

After speaking with Klaus, Morin found a dry slope and sat down, leaning against a sturdy tree trunk.

The surrounding soldiers had fallen silent; only the faint clinks of weapons and muffled breathing filled the woods.

Closing his eyes, the darkness was immediately replaced by the familiar UI interface and a vast map unfolded before him.

Morin zoomed out and quickly located the blue unit markers representing the three battalions under the 33rd Infantry Regiment, with the marker for the 1st Battalion leading the entire regiment.

With a thought, the map zoomed in further, breaking down the 1st Battalion marker into smaller icons for its three infantry companies, the battalion headquarters, and its logistics detachment.

He could even clearly see the two supply wagons of the 1st Company stationed safely alongside the battalion’s supply team at the rear.

This godlike overview calmed his racing thoughts considerably.

Next, he shifted the view towards the attack objective—the village of San Isidro.

The village area was shrouded in a translucent shadow, likely representing the “fog of war.”

Unlike the real-time friendly unit markers, the enemy’s markers only appeared when detected by their own scouts.

At the village center, a solitary gray diamond icon appeared, labeled: “Kingdom of Aragon Army Unit (unknown size) (unknown armament).”

This confirmed Captain Hauser’s report that scouts had only glimpsed the enemy from afar, unable to gather meaningful intelligence.

Morin tried to mentally select the diamond icon, but the system displayed: “Insufficient information, unable to analyze.”

His attention was drawn to another detail on the map.

About three kilometers behind their assembly point for the attack, an artillery position icon was illuminated.

Zooming in, he saw it represented a battalion of the divisional artillery regiment.

Focusing on the artillery unit icon, information quickly appeared:

“28th Field Artillery Regiment, 2nd Field Artillery Battalion”

“FK.96n/A 77mm field gun × 12”

Seeing that the 77mm field guns had a maximum range of 5,500 meters, Morin understood why the artillery position was so far forward.

These were not high-trajectory howitzers, but close-support field guns. While lacking the range and firepower of howitzers, they were more mobile and flexible.

Several faint parabolic trajectories extended from the icon, their endpoints covering much of the southeast area around San Isidro.

However, this coverage area struck Morin as excessively large.

This was not the precise fire strike he was familiar with, but more of a fire suppression zone.

Its main function was likely to suppress enemy forces, just as Captain Hauser had described.

“Well then, let’s hope Hauser is right and the artillery barrage will scare the enemy off as soon as the guns roar...”