Upon being called to the room, Major Weiss was confronted by an unexpected sight.
“Major, there you are. Would you care for some coffee?”
It was his superior officer, sitting on one of the wooden crates in the operation center, holding a coffee cup in one hand with a grin on her face. Not only that, but she offered coffee and chocolate, calm as a breeze, like something out of one of the cafes in the capital.
“Go on, take a load off. It’s real coffee. See?”
She was inviting him to sit down to tea here on the front line, where blood and steel waited around every corner!
Dumbfounded, Weiss noticed that First Lieutenant Serebryakov—someone who had known the Lieutenant Colonel longer than he had—was already there, biting into a piece of chocolate.
“What? It’s good.”
“Oh, well then.”
Weiss wasn’t sure what to say…but oddly, the tension was broken. Before he knew it, he found himself settling onto the wooden crate offered in place of a chair.
“Please, before we get down to what I wanted to talk about, have something sweet to eat. And some coffee, as well. Try to relax a little, if you can. This is something you’ll want to be seated for, I promise,” explained Weiss’s superior officer in a soothing tone.
With the Empire at war as it was, coffee and chocolate had become luxury items beyond compare. After this lavish feast, Major Weiss settled in and prepared for the worst. If his superior officer had gone to such lengths, the problem was obviously big.
“I volunteer. Whatever it is, just give the order.”
“Major Weiss?”
The commander looked stumped. While she usually exuded the air of a battle-hardened veteran, in that moment, her expression seemed more suited to her age. Major Weiss was amused, but he relegated that amusement to the back of his mind.
This oddly formal banquet had been prepared by their superior officer because she had something difficult to tell them. It was going to be troublesome, that was for sure. Having his nose pressed to the grindstone in the East for far too long, Weiss had seen his share of sorrows and could already smell what was coming.
“I was prepared for this from the beginning. I was told what kind of work was in store for us even before our battalion was assigned to the Salamander Kampfgruppe. I am ready to volunteer for any mission, no matter how difficult.”
Lieutenant Colonel Degurechaff glanced toward First Lieutenant Serebryakov. Weiss knew from that subtle movement what was being asked of Serebryakov. The lieutenant colonel wanted to know if she felt the same.
Simultaneously, she extended a lifeboat to the first lieutenant. Serebryakov was free to object if she wished, but nothing was said aloud. If she disagreed, she could simply remain silent—a thoughtful gesture from their commander, allowing subordinates to dissent without confrontation.
Weiss remained quiet out of consideration for the colonel’s feelings; after all, it was none of his business.
First Lieutenant Serebryakov hummed softly. “For hazardous journeys, small pay, and long months of gunfire and strife…”
These were words Weiss held dear. Brave, noble words. Words for heroes. But reality had made it painfully clear that there was no room for romanticism on the battlefield. Yet what if a unit that still clung to such grand words were to take center stage?
“I think you’ve gotten the wrong impression. We’ve been a flight pair since the Rhine. Of course I intended to volunteer, Colonel.”
“I see.”
“Yes, you do.”
The lieutenant colonel muttered softly, then turned her eyes toward Weiss.
“Are you sure you’re both prepared for this?”
““Absolutely,”” they both said.
“When I volunteered for this battalion, I was lured by the thought of heroism. I finally see that heroism is simply how you go through life, Colonel.”
“You understand that safe return is unlikely…?”
Weiss was certain that even if he confessed fear and wished to rescind his commitment, Lieutenant Colonel Degurechaff would not chide him. Her face was sincere as she asked again if he truly wished to volunteer. If he had been certain before, he was doubly so now. This was his last chance to escape what would be a ludicrous mission.
Weiss shrugged lightly and spoke, trying to verbalize his feelings, “This is war. Whatever is necessary should be ordered.”
“Before I make this request, I’d like to ask one more time… Well, Lieutenant Serebryakov? What do you say? Please, speak openly now.”
“What do I say?”
The lieutenant colonel’s adjutant, who had been busy shoveling chocolate into her mouth and gulping down coffee, cocked her head to the side. Lieutenant Colonel Degurechaff stared back, on tenterhooks.
Then Weiss suddenly noticed how unusual this exchange was. The lieutenant colonel had already asked the adjutant if she wished to change her mind once and was now asking her again. Was she hesitating to acknowledge this departure? Urging the first lieutenant to reconsider? Who but Lieutenant Colonel Degurechaff would show such concern in the face of adversity?
Weiss smiled uncomfortably despite himself.
“Colonel, I’m sorry, but…”
“No, Major. Do not interrupt. Well, Lieutenant Serebryakov, are you set on volunteering as well, like Major Weiss? Speak openly.”
“I’m sorry. But…why are you asking me this?”
“Why?”
“Yes, why?” First Lieutenant Serebryakov nodded, holding her coffee, confused. “I thought I made myself clear… During the Rhine, I decided to go where you went. I don’t know why you’re asking me to rethink things now, after all we’ve been through.”
An expression of blank surprise appeared on their superior officer’s face.
“Ha-ha-ha!” Weiss couldn’t help a belly laugh, even in the presence of a senior officer. “You see? What did I say?”
As Lieutenant Colonel Degurechaff’s adjutant, First Lieutenant Serebryakov had always covered her back since the Rhine. It was fine for Degurechaff to show concern, but it must have felt bewildering for Serebryakov to receive it.
When it comes to interpersonal relations, our superior officer can be awkward in the most unexpected ways. Grinning uncomfortably, Weiss suddenly realized something. Come to think of it, this great hero standing before him was, in fact, several years his junior! Though she appeared perfect, she was still human.
Savoring this pleasant revelation, Weiss adopted a more somber expression as he spoke. “I’m sorry, Colonel, but we’re well past the need for you to question our commitment. Our minds were made up long, long ago.”