The heavyweights at the General Staff were terrifying. Among the many first lieutenants of the Imperial Army, First Lieutenant Grantz was, unfortunately, the most intimately acquainted with this fact.
After being told to enter quickly, General Zettour bid him speak. Grantz complied, telling the general everything. The superior officer nodded, his expression suggesting full understanding. Several minutes later, he picked up the telephone, which had suddenly begun to ring.
What happened next? First Lieutenant Grantz witnessed one of the most fantastic displays of coercion he had ever seen.
“That’s correct, Major. It is at my direction. Colonel Uger will deliver the details verbally. I assume he has done so? Good. Confirmation is well and good. Consider this your notice that Colonel Uger has been granted my full authority to implement all necessary measures.”
Will that do? Do you understand? It sounded as though whoever was on the other end was being thoroughly browbeaten. General Zettour’s demeanor was intense.
As someone fully familiar with the general’s steely temperament, Grantz could feel the fear wafting from the other end of the line as if it were his own. He sympathized deeply with whoever was on the receiving end of this conversation. He could only imagine who it might be or what they might be doing at that moment, but he was certain the pair would get along like a house on fire if they ever met.
At the very least, they would have plenty to gripe about down at the beer hall together. They would probably be fast friends before long. Anything would be better. He just wanted to get the hell out of there already.
General Zettour’s eyes suddenly flicked in Grantz’s direction, fixing the lieutenant with an arctic stare.
“Thank you for your hard work, Lieutenant Grantz… There are a few things we must get straight to ensure that everything remains neat and tidy,” said General Zettour, his voice like the lull between two fierce waves.
The aging general spoke calmly and naturally. His eyes, however, were not smiling.
Grantz’s sense of danger, honed on the battlefield, told him that this was the sort of monster best left to an officer like Lieutenant Colonel Degurechaff. As an ordinary man, Grantz could only tremble as he waited for the tempest to pass.
“I ordered everything. When you came charging in with an emergency report, it was regarding the orders I had issued, correct?”
“Y-yes, sir!”
Likely the only reason Grantz was able to answer immediately, albeit in a trembling voice, was that he had already built up immunity to General Zettour. Grantz suddenly recalled—or perhaps was so nervous he was having flashbacks—the time when General Zettour had thrown his weight around with Salamander, asking to “borrow” First Lieutenant Grantz.
Grantz’s commanding officer, Lieutenant Colonel Degurechaff, must have had nerves of steel. Although there was only so much she could do, she had protested as much as possible to shield Grantz from General Zettour. Grantz hadn’t realized it at the time, but his superior had known General Zettour for some time by that point and was well aware of how terrifying the General could be. And yet, despite this, she had resisted the General for Grantz’s sake—a fact that left him deeply moved. It took a different kind of mettle to rise to the top.
But that superior officer was relying on him now, having entrusted the fate of the entire Eastern Front to his hands.
Though just one man, Grantz was determined to rise to the challenge and fulfill his duty. He mustered his courage, despite practically shaking in the face of General Zettour’s questioning.
“You mentioned trouble with Air Defense Control, correct? Why?”
“It was a problem with identification.”
“Ever since the incident with Rudersdorf, air defense has become pushy about identification. There aren’t many veterans over there anymore, so they’re not accustomed to the usual procedures. Their behavior can be very rigid.”
“A shame,” says the general, smiling in a generous, understanding manner—even though his eyes remained stark. “I will have a word with them. Let them know they interfered with the General Staff dispatch. I’ll be sure to give them a good dressing down. By the way, it is probably unnecessary for me to ask…,” he said, almost as if in afterthought.
In contrast to his casual tone, his eyes are as cold as glass. He turned his observant gaze upon Grantz’s, and Grantz gulped as he waited for the general’s next words, realizing that this was the real crux of their conversation.
“You haven’t spoken of this to anyone else, have you? How did you get through in the end?”
“I had help from Doctor Schugel along the way.”
“Doctor Schugel? Why Doctor Schugel?”
Grantz’s superior officer’s superior officer reacted as if that were the last name he had expected to hear. Grantz continued quickly, before the general could suggest disposing of the doctor.
“While en route, I was nearly intercepted by capital forces as a deserter or bogey. The doctor simply vouched for my identity and for the fact that I was a messenger.”
“And your mission? You did not share the details, did you?”
Confidentiality. Absolute confidentiality. Fortunately, Grantz had not said anything that might get the good, respectable doctor mixed up in all this.
A moment ago, Grantz had been convinced that he had made the wrong choice, wondering if he should have revealed the truth to the doctor and asked for assistance. But now he understood that by saying nothing, he had made the right choice. It was all a matter of hindsight. Had he chosen poorly, things could have become very difficult.
“No, I did not.”
“Good. Does anyone else know about this note?”
“The note? Only Colonel Uger.”
“Enough to get the message, perhaps.”
Fortunately for First Lieutenant Grantz, there was no need for him to know what the general meant by that. After all, upon seeing the note, Colonel Uger had decided to escalate the matter immediately. Thus, Grantz could proudly assert that he had made it this far solely by showing the note, and that no one else besides Lieutenant Colonel Degurechaff was aware of the matter at hand.