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corporal

When I returned for the fifth time, I had become Corporal Hitler, who was in full swing as a messenger on the Western Front in 1918.

During my first regression, I woke up an hour before I was possessed.

The second time was a day ago, the third time was a week ago, and the fourth time was a month ago.

And this time, I woke up a year ago, on the Western Front in 1918.

I don't know the detailed reason.

However, based on past experience, I suspected that the reason the viewpoint moves back as the regression is repeated is some kind of penalty.

What should I say, it's similar to LoL's demotion system? Every time you lose a game, your rating goes down.

Since he has repeatedly failed so many times, it would be roughly correct to say that he became Hitler during his time as a corporal on the Western Front due to the accumulation of penalties.

Fuck, the more I think about it, the angrier I get?

In the original history, who would have thought that the Junkers who were whining to Hitler not to go to war would stage a coup just to avoid starting a war!

However, I have no friends who will listen to my complaints, and no mentors who can advise me how to act like this next time.

It's just me alone.

You can't despair here. I have to survive until the end and put lead bullets in the barrels of those who beat me and threw ashes on the cooked rice.

And I will complete the mission and return to the home I miss.

This is the original world where there are computers and smartphones, where you can buy as much food as you want as long as you pay, and where you can sleep peacefully without worrying about war breaking out tomorrow.

Where should I give up? Until the end, who wins...

"Hey, Hitler."

"Corporal Hitler."

"Take this to the warehouse."

"All right."

"Hitler, gather some kids and repair camp number 2. "The regimental commander is coming for an inspection in the afternoon, so do it carefully, okay?"

"Corporal Hitler, I understand!"

But where I am now is none other than the military.

I completely melted into the hectic daily life that went on without a moment's notice.

About a week after becoming possessed by Hitler,

An 'incident' occurred.

"Corporal Hitler?"

"why?"

"The company commander is looking for you."

"I am going right now."

As many people know, Hitler's position during World War I was that of a messenger.

At that time, communication equipment was not very developed, so people had to go back and forth between the front lines and the rear to relay information.

"Corporal Hitler has arrived."

"You're here. This is the regiment commander's order. Please deliver this to the 2nd Battalion on the front line."

"You mean now?"

For reference, the sun is just about to set in the sky.

"okay. "Right now."

Holding back the sigh that threatened to burst out, I took the regimental commander's order from the company commander and took it with me.

Unfortunately, the only bicycle in the company was being repaired, so I had to run to the front line on my own two feet.

Damn Hitler.

Why do you have to volunteer for such a troublesome and dangerous position and make people suffer?

But what can you do? If a corporal like me gives an order from above, I have to follow it.

Still, I was quite confident in my physical strength, so running wasn't particularly difficult.

I just feel uncomfortable because I feel like I'm alone while everyone else is resting.

For an hour, I headed to the front line, recalling memories of physical training in the military.

We arrived at the 2nd Battalion only after the sun had completely set.

"Stop, stop! "If you move, I'll shoot you!"

"owl!"

"kangaroo!"

As I shouted the secret slogan, the sentry lowered his gun aimed at me.

"Where do you belong?"

"1st Battalion. This is the 2nd battalion, right? "I have the orders now, so please tell me where the battalion commander's office is."

After being guided, I arrived in front of the 2nd Battalion Commander, saluted and then took out the order form from my pocket.

Except for the edges of the envelope being wrinkled, it is in good condition.

"This is an order from the regiment commander. Please confirm."

"Well, I'm sure it's an official order. "Go outside and wait."

The battalion commander, who accepted the order I handed him, had a heated discussion with his subordinates.

After hearing about the British army, supply, and number of troops, a young major walked out.

"Thank you for your hard work coming here."

"thank you. "If I don't have anything else to say, can I go?"

"It's okay if you go, but dinner will be served soon, so why not eat and go? "Chicken stew is being served specially today."

"···I'll eat and then go."

Oh, I can't stand chicken.

I haven't even seen meat since I landed here, but chicken.

I felt my appetite, which had died down because I had been eating a lot of steamed turnips, come back.

Through the Major's consideration, I was placed among the soldiers waiting for dinner and waited for it to begin.

Eons passed, and four cooks appeared carrying two large soup cans.

"It kills the smell, really."

"Is this the first meat I've tasted in months?"

The tired and starving soldiers were so intoxicated by the faint smell of chicken stew that their saliva flowed.

Of course me too.

When the cook opened the lid of the pot, the smell became even more intense.

Just as cheers were about to erupt among the soldiers, the ground suddenly shook and an explosion was heard.

"It's artillery fire!"

"Everyone evacuate!"

The enemy's bombardment had begun. Holy shit. Especially at this moment!

When the shelling began, the soldiers rushed to the shelter without delay.

Hunger is hunger, but saving one's life comes first.

Putting my regrets behind me, I went into a nearby shelter with soldiers I had never met before.

A sergeant with a face like a skull and cheekbones was the last to enter the shelter.

What followed was a violent vibration.

"Fuck you guys, you can't even eat."

"This is why I hate Tommys."

"When will this damn bombardment end?"

Everyone was on edge because they couldn't even eat and had to crouch in a narrow shelter.

Instead of being able to eat the chicken I was looking forward to, I was left waiting endlessly for the bombardment to end. Is there anything more pitiful like this?

Hey, it's my palja.

"Now that I think about it, it looks like a face I've never seen before. "Where do you belong?"

30 minutes after the shelling began, questions were asked to me, who was quietly crouching in the corner.

"1st battalion."

"1st battalion? "The 1st Battalion should be in the rear, right?"

"I came as a messenger but ended up stranded. Damn it."

When he said that he was accidentally trapped in a shelter while trying to eat some chicken, the soldiers of the 2nd Battalion burst into laughter.

"This guy, you're lucky to have scabies."

"I must have sucked a lot of honey from the rear, isn't this enough?"

"Honey! "How much work does a messenger have to do!?"

"Whether it's a messenger or something else, if you're in the rear, you're all in trouble!"

"that's right."

Even though he is a messenger and suffers as much as he can, here he is laughed at for being a slut because he came from the rear.

How long have they been on the front line?

The moment I opened my mouth to say something out of frustration, an incomparably stronger vibration hit the shelter.

"It looks like it fell quite close this time."

"So... huh!?"

It seemed like dust was flowing from the ceiling, and then the wooden boards that made up the ceiling split in half and dirt poured out.