The Devil off the Coast of Norden 8

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JANUARY 18, UNIFIED YEAR 1925, IMPERIAL NAVY, NORTHERN SEA FLEET COMMAND’S EXERCISE AREA 2

At one hundred feet.

Scowling at the spray, Major von Degurechaff gives the order for boarding assault formation. The idea is to practically skim the water without dropping their speed and charge their target. Responding to her directions, the companies all get into formations that support one another.

Beneath her serious expression, however, Tanya is shocked… They were told they’d be flying into anti–air fire, so despite it being an exercise, she expected an appropriate interception. Instead, she is compelled to worry. Are they actually shooting? She’s puzzled by the weak intercepting fire. Surely, they’re going to fire on us, even though it’s an exercise.

We’re performing an attack on a ship using visual combat maneuvers with a clear view. According to the scenario, we’ve already deployed a smoke screen to foil the intercepting fire. Tanya hides in the smoke and gets down to business, finding it disappointingly easy to reach boarding distance.

“Enemy mage incoming on the starboard side! Prepare for a close-quarters fight! Anyone not occupied, come starboard!”

A few petty officers on deck begin moving to handle the situation, but they’re hopelessly slow. It’s already too late. Once you let a mage get this close, you can’t avoid a fight on deck. Maybe they weren’t expecting it, but this is still pathetic.

Inside, she wonders: Is this a trap? Like the wily ones people used to plan back in the age of sailing ships? I’m pretty sure I’ve read nautical novels where confusion on the deck turns out to be a trick.

But no matter how I look at it, the opponents running hither and thither everywhere I can see seem a bit too inexperienced. The deck may be narrow, but I even see some sailors tripping. If that’s acting, they would have had to spend an awful lot of time training to fall so naturally.

“Magic blades up! Company, on me!”

Anyhow, leading the charge again, Tanya has no choice but to maintain her speed perfectly and swoop in. She even deploys an interference formula right into the panicking cluster of sailors.

As some of them go flying, the sailors grow even more confused, and the marine unit that came running gets caught up in the mess. The rest of my company coming after me hinders the marines’ efforts to restore discipline. They miss their chance to stop us, too busy with the exchange of checking fire.

“Don’t let up! Keep shooting!”

“Fix bayonets! All hands, fix bayonets!”

A handful of officers and sailors just barely manage to fight back, but they’re not enough to keep the force of the attack at bay.

Tanya and her company easily break through their defense. Then they stab the second bridge’s soft shrapnel shielding and cling to it with their magic blades. We didn’t slow down at all; one of the internal frames probably got dented.

Watching us come in is probably freaky as hell.

“Land and capture! Go, go, go!”

Even though they smashed into them pretty much head-on, the members of the 203rd Battalion are enthusiasm incarnate.

With brisk movements, they promptly establish a bridgehead. From there, they set about taking the main areas of the boat. Though outnumbered, their coordination keeps everyone well-covered.

“Destroy the anti–air gun mounts! Take the next set of points!”

“Gunners, don’t let them get any closer!”

“We’re taking the second bridge back. Form an assault team around the marine unit.”

It takes a little while, but they manage to finish setting up their counterattack team consisting chiefly of marines.

We may be a battalion, but our strength is our mobility, and that can’t be used to its fullest in the closed space of a ship’s interior. That’s why the marines and marine mages are able to put up a fierce fight inside.

“Here’s the counterattack! Marines!”

“Dump ’em overboard! Get rid of ’em.”

But the members of the 203rd Battalion capture point after point with surprising efficiency.

Normally, mages focus on mobile battles and aerial maneuvers and tend not to be so great at close-quarters fighting. The vanguard might be different, but the members in the rear usually have a hard time with it. But training is about eliminating weak areas.

“Show them what the marines are made of! Don’t let those landlubbers think they’re so tough!”

“The next group has arrived! I’m sending them in now!”

And so the 203rd Battalion and the marines, each with their own take on close-quarters combat, clash and refuse to give any ground. The marines have a slightly better position, but the situation is fluid.

As both sides struggle to make their next move, the follow-up company lands.

We shall be victorious. Major von Degurechaff and the company commanders grin. Meanwhile, the marines who had allowed reinforcements to arrive display their disgrace in their expressions. They’re running out of fighting resources to tap into. Sailors would be some help, but they can’t be pulled off the cannons. They hesitate slightly, and their actions get delayed.

“All unoccupied personnel, prepare for hand-to-hand combat! We’re going to drive them off this ship!”

Still, if the bridges, engine block, and magazine get captured, your ship is done no matter how much you have left to throw at the enemy.

It’s that crisis that makes them hesitate a bit before they scrape together what muscle they can for a counterattack.

The captain issues the order to gather up any spare fighting power. And when it comes down to it, a ship has quite a lot of personnel on board. Though it isn’t their primary task, sailors can shoot guns. The mobilized officers and petty officers form provisional naval brigades and start to reinforce the marines.

It was hopeless to begin with. Their idea is to push and push till they push us off the boat. It’s quite simple, but it’s still a valid attack plan for the narrow space inside the ship. If this is all, though, the 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion can push right back. Humming, I cheerfully lay down a smoke screen, and just as the cunning fire from the attacking side has distracted the defenders—

“All hands, I don’t care if they’re marines! Teach them what a bad idea it is to mount a frontal attack on my battalion! Remember that the useless ones who die in war get sent to hell!”

With that shout, she attacks in a flash to bring the fight into close quarters.

The pressure of two companies is hitting the resistance hard.

Just as the sailors begin to retreat from the mages and their ogre-like game faces, Tanya takes a small unit on a detour.

While everyone is focused on the fierce fighting inside the ship, she seizes the opening and launches a sneak attack on the port side.

“We’re pincered?! Shit! Move some of the crew to the port side!”

“They’re all confused?! Success! Major von Degurechaff got around behind them! Now we destroy them!”

Our opponents look ready to run once they’ve been pincered, but we don’t let them. Each company commander works to improve their results. The iron law of war is the harmony of impact and confusion.

Break their composure, disrupt their discipline, and then crush them.

Chaos is spreading on the defensive side between the rear attack, pulled off efficiently in loyal accordance with the principles of war, and the intensifying frontal attack. Just like we wanted.

An intense impact crushes the marines faster than they can close gaps and rebuild the interception line.

“We’re clear.”

“Us too.”

Directly after that, Tanya gives each company their own target as she mops up the defenders, who are no longer able to operate in an organized way. “Good. First Company, to the bridge. Follow me. Second and Third Companies, go to the engines. Fourth Company, to the magazine. Capture your objectives quickly.” After eliminating the main enemy resistance force, we need to gain control of the key parts of the ship.

The plan is to approach each area in order by sweeping outward from captured locations. We manage to maintain speed by going around any pockets of enemy resistance, and the decision to share the burden across the battalion is implemented with high standards.

Once the ship side realizes that we’ve stormed the critical areas, they give up resisting. Discipline has collapsed inside, and the sailors look like they’re about to flee. At the same time, their pretend enemy joins up with reinforcements and seems ready for more. The defense’s fighting force is already practically nonexistent, and their methods of resistance are limited. They’re forced to gracefully admit their defeat to the referees.

“Okay, rush them in your two-man cells. Vanguard troops, brace yourselves!”

“Major von Degurechaff, that’s enough, that’s enough.”

The message comes just as she’s about to step onto the bridge.

For the referees, who were forced to follow all those insane maneuvers, the end couldn’t have come soon enough. Honestly, so many things had gone through their minds when she told them to come with her because she was going to seize the second bridge.

“The exercise is over! I say again, the exercise is over!”

The call ending the game echoes throughout the ship over the loudspeakers.

Hearing this, though they’re concerned about all the things on the ship that were damaged, everyone is finally able to relax. It had been a rare joint combat simulation. Many things were broken, but there hadn’t been any accidents.

“All right, stupid corpses, you can move now.”

All the sailors and marines who were judged dead and ordered to lie still, facedown, sluggishly get to their feet.

We may have been using exercise-grade rubber bullets and low-power explosion formulas, but that doesn’t mean they feel good.

Some of the injured even have to go to the infirmary to get treated by a surgeon.

For example, take the sailors who were unlucky enough to get caught up in the firefight between the 203rd Battalion and the marines. They said that, despite ducking down, they came out of it worse for wear because stray bullets kept hitting them.

Although such bad luck was rare, no small number of people were hurt in the melee on the interior of the ship. A team of medics and surgeons was on call and prepared for efficient intake, but I imagine the infirmary will still be crowded for a while.

And in the midst of all that hustle and bustle, Magic Major Tanya von Degurechaff is in the wardroom, which has already been picked up. Although it’s small, some thought was put into the design, so the atmosphere is relaxing. It’s now packed full of officers. In her hand is a cup of coffee she was given; it’s supposedly better than the stuff the army serves. Something smells faintly like baked goods. Surely only in the navy, where they’re allowed to bring their own rations and cookies, can you enjoy that.

Naturally, we’re not just having a tea party for no reason. After the exercise, it’s time for the main event.

“Very well, let’s review the full fleet close-quarters exercise.”

The seamen have been permitted port and starboard liberty and raced off to the PX still in a holiday mood now boosted by post-exercise cheer, but unlike them, the officers’ real work begins now. We have to go through the referees’ commentary and the reports from each unit commander to find areas of improvement and reflect on what happened so we can put the lessons to use in actual combat.

This time was different from the usual exercise in that it included a boarding scenario that aimed to be extremely realistic. But to only do that would be a waste.

“First of all, it’s still early in the year, but I think we can say that this exercise was meaningful.”

The all-important ratings showed that the participants thought the exercise was worth doing.

The navy, who provided the base and ship as the venue, are desperate for anti-mage combat experience; they can never get enough. Although their main job is counter-ship warfare, they’ve learned through battle that marine mages can’t be ignored.

But they never have enough marine mages for an exercise, and how few mages they do have allotted internally is a matter of constant contention. Yes, the borderline-overworked marine mages are in such great demand that they don’t have the wherewithal to participate in war games. And so, the navy was thrilled to have this joint exercise to gain some of that missing experience.

At the same time, Tanya herself and the 203rd Battalion had little experience with anti-ship combat or battles to capture ships, so the exercise was in their interest as well. More than anything, it was what the General Staff wanted. They had no choice but to participate. That notwithstanding, it was still a useful experience.

And when the referees said it was meaningful, they meant it. When it comes to results, although they were up against particularly elite mages, building some experience handling that situation was clearly valuable for the navy.

“All right. First some complaints from Captain Grän of the warship used in the exercise, Basel.”

Captain Grän stands and bows to Major von Degurechaff. “…To be blunt, you creamed us. And on top of that, the year has only just started, and we’ve taken all kinds of damage.” His expression is somewhat resigned as he acknowledges his ship’s defeat. No one died during the exercise, but that didn’t mean the ship wasn’t laid to waste.

It was more than a few broken windows. The formulas and grenades may have been exercise-grade, but they were still hurled all over the place. Naturally, the crew did cleanup as an exercise in damage control, but still.

“Damage control went fairly well. The crew was able to make prompt repairs.”

The results were all right. They could at least be satisfied with them. There were no issues during the operation inspection after interior maintenance was performed, mainly on the engines.

…That said, although the damage isn’t bad enough that the ships need to be docked, there are a number of repairs that need to be made—broken glass exchanged, dents fixed, and so on—that will take some time.

Luckily, it’ll be patched up by the time the Entente Alliance ships have to leave the neutral port, but the captain still isn’t happy about it.

As such, Major von Degurechaff bows as well. Honestly, it might be a bit weird that the child among all these adults is the one being so considerate. It might be weird, but I guess I just have to go with it, since it’s better than being seen as uncaring.

“Our most urgent task is to reevaluate our anti–air fire. I can’t believe we didn’t even graze the incoming mages.” He looks like he wants to rough up the men of his who boasted that they wouldn’t let the mages anywhere near the ship.

The gunners who upset him are sure to be trained extra hard for some time. Still, everyone is relieved that they learned their lesson in an exercise rather than in actual combat.

The observing captains are also sure to tighten up their training regimens in the same way. If things go downhill when the enemy reaches a ship, then they have to drive the enemy off before that happens. Learning that is a great outcome for the exercise.

“Major von Degurechaff, do you have any suggestions for improvement from the attacking side?”

“I believe the fundamental problem is a lack of firepower. I can’t imagine anything but a dense barrage of anti–air fire will prevent an approach.” Tanya, who was actually one of the mages to so easily break through their defense, has an even simpler opinion—the utterly straightforward one that they don’t have enough guns.

Tanya would tell you that if intercepting is a matter of probability, the only way to raise the probability is to increase the density of anti–air fire. The idea for this comes from the simple knowledge that at the end of their trials and errors, the navies of countries outside this world all went running for the solution of adding more anti–air fire. If you don’t outfit ships like porcupines, they’ll be vulnerable to an attack from the sky.

Plus, Tanya adds in her head, even the aircraft carriers the Americans used near the end of World War II that supposedly had great anti-aircraft fire couldn’t completely stop a certain all-in approach taken on the assumption of not returning.

“Basel has some of the most powerful anti–air cannons out of all our existing capital ships.”

To someone who doesn’t know yet, charging a ship with a mountain of autocannons seems like suicide.

The navy officer who brought it up, looking confused, seems to have done so because he thought the ship had enough firepower.

And it’s not such an outlandish thing to believe.

It’s a practical truth that human beings, while intending to take in things objectively, only accept what they themselves can understand subjectively. In a surprise twist, Lippmann’s “stereotype” paradoxically describes how far the human intellect can expand.

A warship with a pile of autocannons is a floating fortress. Among them, Basel boasts outstanding defensive firepower, so the question arises: Isn’t that enough? To the officers in attendance, it’s a natural question. Or at least to them, it’s not a strange one.

“From the point of view of the attacker, it’s not much of a threat.” But Tanya puts an end to it easily. “To be honest, it really wasn’t even an obstacle.” That matter-of-fact murmur is significant. She has hinted that anti–air fire is not actually an efficient defense against attacks from the sky. All the Northern Sea Fleet Command, previously lacking in anti-mage combat and exercise experience, can do is register anew what a threat mages are.

Still, that’s just the opinion of one major, and they would like to hear from a third party who participated in the assault. The head referee gathers that and discreetly eyes the referee in charge of the attacking side.

The referee takes the hint and begins giving his general opinion. “I agree with Major von Degurechaff. I accompanied her on the charge and was surprised to find the firing line not so imposing.” But contrary to most of the officers’ hopes, he essentially repeats what Tanya said. “Overall, I’m forced to say that our current anti–air fire is about as useful as a bunch of firecrackers.”

“…Our defensive firepower is that weak?” The claim is that they have been overestimating their defense, and in response the officers ask a question that shows their consternation: Is it really, honestly that weak?

“Yes, we’re lacking even more than I expected. In order to halt approaches, we need to increase the number of guns until the ships are like porcupines.”

The reply from the second referee is simple and leaves no room for misunderstanding.

“I agree. And we should be adding not just 20 mm autocannons but 40 mm as well.”

Tanya concurs more strongly than anyone. She believes the American military provided the best example of ideal anti–air fire.

In this world, it’s completely unheard of, but it’s already been proven in combat. She indirectly proposes the innovation as her own contribution, albeit dispassionately.

“What do you mean?”

“This is just my opinion, but 20 mm are for short-range defense; in order to create a multilayered interception shield, I strongly recommend adding midrange guns,” Tanya answers. From what she can tell, the 20 mm guns have the advantage when it comes to handling and speed, but in terms of range and power, they’re weaker. It’s logical to add 40 mm autocannons for intercepting at midrange.

Most importantly, mage defensive shells and aircraft have no chance of withstanding a 40 mm shell.

From the attacking point of view, capturing a warship with multibarrel gun emplacements all over like a porcupine would be a difficult task.

“If possible, I’d like to focus on numbers. We probably need ten times the current amount.”

“Captain Grän, what do you think?”

“…It’s an interesting suggestion, but we can’t change the number of cannons without doing major overhauls, such as removing the secondary guns on the flanks.”

“To go a step further, I would say that secondary guns are worse than useless. We need to increase the priority of air defense.” Tanya knows it’s disrespectful, but she sees a chance for the navy to take a decisive step forward and chimes in. After all, she knows the era of aerial warfare better than anyone here. She’s sure the time will come when warships will be assigned to aircraft carriers as direct support.

Really, she would like to urge them to change the doctrine from obsessing about big ships with big guns to focusing on their air forces as their main power. Incidentally, she’s also a believer in fire action and values warship cannons for their supporting fire.

That said, even one-shot lighters were able to send the then state-of-the-art Prince of Wales and the Repulse, which had been reconstructed for the modern era, to join the seaweed. Of course, we should concentrate on removing the secondary guns already and increasing the amount of high-angle guns and other autocannon emplacements.

She also knows that until a comparable incident occurs, it will be difficult to convince the ship warfare–oriented navy to accept an air force–centric doctrine.

At the time, the fleet’s original mission was set as counter-ship combat, and the use of mages was not yet so widespread. I’ve heard that requests for vessels to be upgraded for anti-mage and anti–air combat began pouring in this year as a countermeasure. Honestly, everyone still thinks mages fight on land.

Computation orb functionality and aircraft specs are both improving. As a result, the idea that maybe orbs and planes might be threats is only just starting to spread.

Only someone who understands the history of how aviation advanced by leaps and bounds during the Second World War can understand. Until then, no one had dreamed war would drive scientific and technological advances like it does.

“Hmm. It’s not that we’re taking air defense lightly, but…”

“We’ll have to think about it if issues arise fighting off other ships.”

In truth, even officers who are far from inept have deeply rooted views. Ships are equipped to counter ships because the navy can’t escape the instinct to keep their original counter-ship combat mission in mind.

And thinking in terms of counter-ship doctrine, they’d like to keep their secondary guns. Though the importance of being equipped for close-quarters fighting has lessened, the need to fight off torpedo boats and destroyers, which do press in to attack, is a factor that can’t be ignored to them.

“We’ll have to discuss it with Technology. Please let navy command and the Technology Department handle this issue.”

In the end, the conclusion is not to reject the idea but take it under advisement, which essentially means to shelve it. Well, in a way, by saying her piece Tanya has done her duty. After all, it’s no skin off her back if the anti–air fire isn’t strengthened.

As long as it’s not a ship I’m on, where it sinks has nothing to do with me. Besides, the Empire is a continental state, not a maritime state.

Without breathing a word of any of that, she camouflages herself with a sober attitude, but she is in utter earnest. The best thing for ensuring my own survival is training my troops.

Of course, she is passionate about identifying issues in this postmortem. Well, she has to be. She believes that preventing mistakes is best.

“All right. Are there any other remarks from the attacking side?”

“I would say there are cooperation problems.”

“Of what sort?”

“The marines and sailors don’t seem to be very well coordinated. I felt like the disorder of the sailors was tripping up the marines.”

She had noticed it on her approach—the deck was a real mess. Her impression was that the two different corps had trouble working together.

If they had been units stationed there today, below-par coordination would be understandable, but for units that are shipmates, it’s a bit problematic. From what I could tell, it seemed like the marines felt their job consisted of ground and landing battles.

Of course, I can’t deny that those are their primary duties, but we don’t want them to suck at fighting on board a ship. And the confusion and failure to cooperate with sailors is completely unacceptable. In an organization where sales and systems engineering become estranged, they have to compensate with a death march. In the military, the death in death march is literal.

Considering that I could end up a casualty of poor cooperation between our own troops, it’s absolutely critical to suggest an improvement. Having reached this quite reasonable conclusion, albeit via a selfish argument, Tanya speaks eloquently on the necessity of increased coordination. Her idea at its root is self-preservation, but at the same time, she’s altruistic; it can’t be said that she isn’t acting with the aim to benefit the majority.

And that attitude, for the good of the majority, leads to a proposal that is acceptable by the whole.

Probably everyone was vaguely aware of the poor cooperation. The head referee questions the concerned party. Naturally, he does it in a way that is sensitive to their sense of honor. “I see. What do the marines think about this?”

“I’m embarrassed to admit that we haven’t trained much with fighting on ships in mind. I acknowledge the need for retraining.”

In response to the comment from the marines, Tanya declares her unit’s need for more training as well. “After having actually fought inside a ship, I think my unit is lacking experience, too.”

She’s half using inadequate training as an excuse; though the 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion is elite, the group is made up entirely of mages, and their lack of knowledge of other fields is a real problem.

That’s why Tanya hopes to do joint training with the marines, who have the most experience on this front.

You can’t hesitate to borrow wisdom from experts if you want to stay alive. The plan for what happens next can come after you survive.

If this meeting runs long enough, the navy will feed us dinner—that is, the good food that navy officers get. It’s no problem at all if the exercise schedule takes more time than planned.

In this way, Tanya continues her hard work, cultivating a heartening friendship with the navy while keeping an eye on her next battlefield—though it runs against her own thinking—and thus she takes one step after another toward victory.