Chapter 43: Morin, a True Tactical Wish Machine

The temporary Battalion Command post erupted in an uproar.

“What? A counter-attack?”

“Didn’t they just get pushed back? They recovered that fast?”

“How many reinforcements do they have?”

The officers were loud in their confusion, and a feeling of unease quickly spread.

“Quiet!” Major Thomas roared, suppressing the commotion. He took a deep breath and continued: “The Brigade Command’s order is clear: Hold Seville! We must pin the enemy here until our Armored Airship arrives to provide support.”

“Hold Seville?”

The command instantly silenced the command post. Many officers looked at each other, unsure how to carry out the defense. For these Saxon officers, who were accustomed to fighting in open terrain, conducting defensive operations in a city was a somewhat unfamiliar ‘proposition.’ For the armies of this era, most battles ended outside the cities. Furthermore, the main conflicts between the various Empires occurred in overseas colonies, where there were few large cities, let alone fighting within them.

Major Thomas looked at the reactions of his subordinate officers, feeling helpless. He himself was no different. The military and the academy had only taught them how to command troops in the field, never how to fight in a city. And now, due to the Saxon Army’s practice of ‘Mission-Type Command,’ the Brigade Command had not given the regiments or battalions any specific tactical directives, only stating that they must hold Seville.

As for how to hold it? That was up to their own skill; the order simply had to be executed.

Of course, one person in the command post reacted differently from the rest: Morin. If others were confused and uncertain, Morin was completely dismayed.

This means we’re preparing for urban warfare? Massed charges, hand-to-hand combat, and now, urban warfare? Did I just happen to hit the most brutal forms of combat in a short span of time?

It was in this suffocating silence that someone, the first among them, looked toward Morin, who was standing in the corner. Then, a second, a third… More and more people unconsciously turned their attention to the young Second Lieutenant who had created miracles on the battlefield. Captain Hauser, the other Company Commanders, and even Battalion Commander Major Thomas, all eventually focused their eyes on Morin. Their gaze was filled with anticipation, reliance, and a sense of trust—bordering on blind faith—that they themselves had not fully realized.

“Wait a minute…” Morin noticed the gazes and nearly blacked out. What is going on? Why are you all looking at me? Am I some kind of tactical wish machine? Shake me and an idea pops out?

Morin could clearly feel that the officers of the 1st Battalion, after the previous series of battles, had instinctively developed a ‘path dependence’ on him. His demonstrated composure and tactical ability, which surpassed everyone else’s, made him the first person they thought of when facing a difficult problem.

“Second Lieutenant Morin.” Major Thomas finally broke the silence. “You just graduated from the military academy and learned the latest military theories. Do you have any insight regarding… regarding this urban warfare?”

All eyes were fixed on Morin, expecting him to once again present some earth-shattering tactic.

At this point, Morin knew he couldn’t evade it. He also knew this was not the time to be modest; the lives of several hundred men in the 1st Battalion, including his own, depended on it. If he didn’t say something, the Saxon officers might very well lead the troops into a meat grinder using the most primitive methods.

He took a deep breath, quickly reviewing all the knowledge about urban warfare he had learned in his previous life’s military academy and from various battle histories and case studies. He then reorganized it into a language that the people of this world could understand.

“Major Thomas, fellow officers… Since you all trust me, I will simply offer some personal ‘humble opinions.’”

Morin took a step forward, accepted a pencil from a staff sergeant, and stood before the map.

“What we are about to face is an urban battle.”

“Urban battle?”

“That’s right. Fighting in the labyrinthine streets and alleys of a city. We must first understand one thing: all traditional operational thinking must be discarded.” Morin’s first sentence immediately grabbed everyone’s attention. “A city is not an open field. There are no broad front lines and no secure rear areas here. Every single building, every street, can become an independent battlefield.”

Morin picked up a pencil and drew a circle over the urban area the 1st Battalion was responsible for. “Therefore, my first suggestion is breaking the whole into parts (atomization).”

“Atomization?” Major Thomas frowned. He understood the word but not its specific meaning.

“Yes, atomization.” Morin nodded, rapidly drawing several position symbols on the map. “We can no longer construct a rigid defensive line based on the company unit. We must break up the troops, dispersing them into key buildings in squad and platoon formations.”

He looked at the crowd and explained: “Our goal is not to hold a line, but to control an area.” “Every building we occupy becomes an independent strongpoint. These strongpoints mutually support each other, forming a large net with interlocking fire.” “If the enemy charges blindly, they will suffer massive casualties. To advance, they must eliminate our strongpoints one by one. This way, we can maximize the attrition of their forces and delay their attack.”

“Disperse the troops into buildings?” Captain Hauser stroked his chin, voicing the doubt everyone else shared. “How will we command? If the troops are dispersed, how do we issue orders? If a strongpoint is surrounded, we might not even know about it.”

“That brings me to my second point: change our method of movement.” Morin drew a line between two adjacent buildings on the map. “Absolutely avoid using the streets! Streets are the enemy’s kill zones! All personnel movement and supply transport must be done through the interior of the buildings.”

“I’ve observed the city. Seville has many connected, row-style buildings, and they are brick and tile structures. Even without explosives, we can breach the walls quickly! So, we will punch holes in the walls of adjacent buildings, linking up the interior of the entire block!”

“Punch holes in the walls?” A Platoon Leader gasped in astonishment. “Can that actually be done?”

“Why not?” Morin retorted. “We have entrenching tools (sapper shovels), we have pickaxes, and the Baggage Train even delivered some explosives!”

The officers exchanged glances. Morin’s ideas completely subverted their understanding. This wasn’t fighting a war; this was tearing down houses. But upon closer consideration, they realized Morin’s logic was sound. The most dangerous places in the city were the open streets. If they could avoid the streets and move freely within the buildings, their safety and mobility would undoubtedly increase greatly.

However, another officer raised a new concern. “Second Lieutenant Morin, what if the enemy breaks into one building? Wouldn’t they then be able to move into the other connected buildings as well?”

Hearing his question, Morin countered: “Are our soldiers carrying sticks? Are you suggesting the enemy can enter the building and our men won’t fire?”

“Wouldn’t that require indoor combat?”

“What is the problem with that? The enemy’s forces will also be dispersed and pinned down inside the structure.” Morin paused, his expression intensely serious as he looked at every officer.

“Gentlemen, I urge you to temporarily forget your previous experience. Urban warfare is an extremely brutal form of fighting, and not a single spot in the entire city will be safe! If we want to achieve final victory, we can only forge it with blood and sheer willpower!”

(End of Chapter 43)