138 Ch.138 (Half-Year Anniversary): Part 3

"For the sake of the country, I shall fulfill my solemn duty. Exhausting all arrows and bullets, I shall fall, lamentable.

Without seeking revenge, decaying in the field, I shall be born again seven times and wield the spear once more.

The noxious weeds spread on the island, at that time, I earnestly contemplate the unwavering path of the Imperial Nation.

─ March 16, 1945, Ogasawara Detachment Commander, Lieutenant General Tadamichi Kuribayashi, excerpt from the farewell telegram ─"

------

The medicinal slot opened, and the hold-open mechanism engaged. Even having exhausted the last bullet and the forward movement of the slide stopped by the magazine's feed lip plate, the female - pressed the muzzle of the pistol against their own chin, repeatedly pulling the trigger.

"What are you doing?! Put that away right now!"

"Dorothy! Stop it!"

Oh, Does everyone not see my bullets?"

Hollow eyes turned towards gathered comrades, and then, still questioned. However, the ammunition they sought was scattered at her feet as spent cartridges.

"...What the...?"

"Dorothy. Lower the gun, Please. Be a good girl, okay?"

Recognizing the signal flare urgently requesting reinforcements, troops from another battlefield engaged in defensive operations rushed over. They looked at the scene unfolding before them, and, with eyes sunken from sleep deprivation and fatigue, tried to calm Dorothy, who held the pistol, in a gentle tone.

"...I want to shoot, but I don't have any bullets. Can someone give me some?"

However, it was unclear whether she heard that. Dorothy, shedding tears with vacant eyes towards the remaining 13, including the commander, seeking salvation, requested ammunition for her act of self-determination.

But they couldn't comply with that request.

Stepping forward, he, while being careful not to step on the lifeless body of Pina rolling on her back at Dorothy's feet, approached and gently took the pistol from Dorothy.

"Give it back..."

"..."

Stretching her arm towards him as if seeking salvation, or more precisely, seeking the pistol taken from her, Dorothy, with tearful eyes, directed at the remaining 13, including the commander, who cried, with vacant eyes, for salvation.

However, he couldn't comply.

Taking out the empty magazine, returning the slide to its original position after firing a blank shot, he handed it to Snow White, who had approached beside him.

"Give it back... Please give it back... Give Pina back... Let's go to paradise together.... we promised... So, please... Give it back..."

"...All three, take Dorothy with you."

With vacant eyes, she continued to shed tears, her unsteady steps piercing her forehead, and she was about to approach Pina, who had fallen into eternal sleep.

As he reached out to grab her shoulder and stop her directly, he signaled Rapunzel, Snow White, and Kuren to take action.

Nodding, the three of them took Dorothy's arm, supporting her back, and led her away from the scene.

With unsteady steps, she turned her shoulder and, kneeling next to her, gazed at Pina, whose eyes had opened wide as her hand reached towards him.

"My... precious... wings!"

A sorrowful cry echoed.

His fingertips closed Pina's eyelids, and then, after gently removing the necklace around her neck and the identification card he had found, he cradled her in his arms, lifting the lifeless limbs with an incredible strength that could be called inhuman.

"Sergeant Ganney, can you dig a hole?"

"It's my pleasure. I'll prepare it carefully for the cute angel."

"I'm counting on you."

To receive the commission of 1st Sergeant, a young man in his early twenties nodded in response.

----

.

.

.

.

Facing the final stages of the war situation.

Since the enemy's initial attack, the valiant efforts of the subordinates under my command truly resemble the cries of demons.

Especially against the overwhelming numerical superiority in attacks from land, sea, and air that surpassed imagination, the soldiers fought fiercely, often resorting to bare hands and fists. It is a source of great satisfaction for me to witness such tenacious resistance.

However, facing the relentless onslaught of an insatiable enemy, many have fallen one after another. In response to your expectations, I regret to report the loss of this crucial position to the enemy. I sincerely apologize for my inability to meet your expectations due to my genuine fear.

Now, with ammunition depleted and water dried up, everyone is launching a counterattack.

.

.

.

.

.

.

We will continue to fight to the end.

-----

.

.

.

.

*Pat*,

the sound of closing a book echoed eerily in the silence that had enveloped the trenches constructed on the front line.

"...I wonder how General Kuribayashi felt."

"...The Island of Iwo, you mean?"

"Yeah."

"...Well... who knows. But, well... we're probably not that different from him, right?"

"Maybe."

He sighed, stuffing the book into his backpack.

"Hey, can you hear me?"

"Shut up! What's with the Air Force idiot!"

"Is there anyone who's good at singing over there?"

"Singing!? Oh, in that case, our squad leader is amazing!"

Trenches were constructed layer upon layer. From one of them, a voice rose, and his subordinates responded with their voices.

"Oh, that's good! It's not boring before dawn! Can you play a song for us!?"

"If there's no request, I'll pass!"

"Is it the famous squad leader!? It's okay! It's probably a song you know too!"

While holding his assault rifle, he shouted, and in response, the title of the requested song was announced loudly from a trench somewhere.

"Is it a nostalgic taste? Unfortunately, this is neither West Virginia nor a place with coal miners in the Army Corps of Engineers!"

"It's pretty similar! The suffering is the same!"

"Ou, where's the Air Force idiot! Wait there! I'll come and crack your head open!"

Who built the entrenched position is a mystery to those inside it. A dignified shout from what would likely be someone belonging to the Engineer Corps, given their confident and boisterous tone, echoed.

Fighting between the Air Force and the Army, and literally two peas in a pod arguing in the same hole, only led to exhausting their stamina. Yet, in the midst of this exchange that still had room for it, his smile slightly curled upwards.

"All right! Wait a moment! Hey, partner... Ah, right..."

Playing the acoustic guitar was one of his few hobbies and skills, and he had often demonstrated his skill to comrades who were now absent—remembering this, he let out a small sigh.

Redhood would occasionally ask him to play as well.

Knowing that his physical age did not match his mental age, and not straying too far from it, he remembered that both he and she had a liking for retro songs. This recollection prompted him to release another sigh.

──It was fun, wasn't it? Playing together a few times upon her request...

In the midst of muttering these words internally, expressing a sentiment akin to a miserable life, melodies began resonating from a trench somewhere. It seemed like someone had started playing a downloaded song.

Undoubtedly, the professional performance surpassed those who played as a hobby or skill. However, there was still something unsatisfying, perhaps due to biased judgment.

The requested song had been released half a century ago. The enduring popularity of such a classic could be considered a testament to its greatness.

Nevertheless, singing such a song on a battlefield where morale needs to be uplifted seemed somewhat inappropriate.

But singing after a long time might not be bad. Holding the remaining few cigarettes without lighting them, he swayed while picking up the rhythm, inhaling deeply.

This hit song from half a century ago could evoke strong nostalgia for one's hometown. It wasn't an ideal song to sing in the situation of facing the enemy on the battlefield, holed up in a trench.

However, the majority of the soldiers here have lost their home places.

They want to return, but they can never return again—their hometown has long disappeared.

Yet, the feelings for the hometown where they were born and raised never disappear. If anything, as time passes or as the distance increases, those feelings only intensify.

Above all, today, nearly 4,000 remaining members of the division responsible for this front and its surroundings are going to perish in battle. That might be why they wanted to listen to such a song.

-----

.

.

.

.

The beginning of this was yesterday.

In this era and appropriate to the current situation, a hastily organized division composed of a mixture of defeated soldiers. From the hastily constructed command posts several meters underground, formed with liner plates of the division headquarters, he was summoned when he reported.

"You've come. Ah, no need for salutes and reports. I called you even though you're busy, sorry about that."

Presumably, a military man who climbed the ranks devotedly in the field, that's what the division commander was.

He recognized the face with sharp eyes that gleamed radiantly, as if roughly carved with a chisel, like stone and wood. Rolling up the sleeves of the long-sleeved combat uniform, his sunburned arms, packed with muscles, were easy to discern.

The division commander stopped him from saluting with one hand and gestured to make it easier for him.

With both hands clasped behind his back and legs spread shoulder-width apart, the division commander seemed to intend to get straight to the point. He handed a tablet terminal to him.

"...This operation will end tomorrow at 0900. However, a directive like this has come."

On the screen of the received terminal, a formatted document similar to an order was displayed.

Squinting his eyes, he began reading the contents from the top, and soon, his eyes widened significantly.

"─The use of nuclear weapons..."

"─It seems they're going to blow up the Bloc with a nuclear output of 400kt. I don't know where the hell they found it... but they probably found something that was sleeping in a silo somewhere in a country where communication is possible. Well, that doesn't matter. Read on."

Expressing indifference towards the use of nuclear weapons is somewhat thought-provoking. However, the division commander narrowed his eyes, emitted a glare, and urged him to continue reading.

"─After the conclusion of this operation, all participating units are to board the nearest ascent/descent elevator and return. Additionally, after boarding, make sure to promptly destroy the entrance to the boarding area.─At this point, the Goddess Unit is tasked with preventing the anticipated enemy advance and supporting their retreat..."

"So, in essence... it's a mop-up operation."

The expression "mop-up" in the context of the battlefield doesn't mean extinguishing fires in the traditional sense. In this case, during the retreat, holes will be created in the defense line of allies. Rapture bastards that break through those points can worsen the situation and create chaos, a situation likened to a fire. The division commander used the term "mop-up" to express the role of stopping and repelling the enemy's fierce attack.

"Please wait. If all the ascent/descent elevators are destroyed, what will happen to the Goddess Unit?"

He asks about the fate of the Goddess Unit. The division commander tightly purses his lips, taking a drag from his rolled-up cigarette.

"...That's why I called you. You, who are the commander of the Goddess Unit."

The division commander, who has just lit his oil lighter, speaks in a voice that seems to be squeezed out.

"As a soldier, one should be loyal to orders. However, I can't make a move like using women and children, practically abandoning them at this point."

"Your Excellency, that is─"

It might be considered disobedience. He urges him to refrain from further remarks, but the division commander doesn't mind, exhaling a vigorous, purple smoke.

"I let many subordinates die. They were a group of defeated soldiers of different races, nationalities, and languages, but for me, they were undoubtedly my subordinates. I don't want to think that I let a single one die in vain, and if it weren't for the Goddess─ their activities, the division would have been destroyed long ago."

The division commander pulls a crude and dirty ashtray towards him, rifles through his breast pocket, and takes out a photo, handing it to him.

"It was taken at my daughter's graduation ceremony... She was a cute daughter. If my daughter were alive, she would be about the same age as them. ─I couldn't do anything for my daughter as a father. I should have talked to her more."

"I don't know what it's like to have a father or mother. Even if Your Excellency regrets it, I have no way to comfort you."

The division commander, who handed over the photo, seems to acknowledge that and smiles bitterly. He receives the photo, tucking it into his breast pocket.

"...Forgive me. I didn't mean to trouble you. ─Well, that's probably why I was an inadequate father. The last words exchanged between my daughter and me were her saying she hated me."

"Even if you were an inadequate father, as a soldier or as a man, being excellent in those respects should be enough, don't you think?"

"I'm an awkward man. That's me."

"Please rest assured. I am too."

With a small smile, the division commander seems to relax, letting out a few puffs of purple smoke. Halfway through, he crushes the cigarette he had partially smoked into the ashtray.

"─At dawn tomorrow, the division will use its full strength to support the retreat of the entire army."

"...Just the Goddess Unit?"

"It's better to have more manpower, isn't it?"

That's true, but as he stammers, the division commander walks up, and just when it seems he's approaching, he firmly pats the shoulder of him wearing body armor and whispers in his ear.

"─Tonight, get them out of here. If the 4,000 of us die, they should have enough time to retreat."

Ignore the order─ receiving the wordless command, he nodded back.

-----

This Arc Guardian operation has taken quite a different turn, and I apologize for the unsightly sight─(trembling, the author puts the muzzle of the pistol into their mouth)

avataravatar
Next chapter