14 We Need a New Crew

May 18th, 1947. 

Major changes occurred in the Crentian Workers' Party after General Steiner joined. The first noticeable change was the upgrade of the party militia's weapons to semi-automatic rifles. This was a significant shift in their military capability. Furthermore, Steiner's influence led to a large number of soldiers and officers from the Crentian Army joining the party. This influx of military personnel not only increased the party's numbers but also enhanced its strategic abilities, turning it into a significant political force with strong military backing.

However, there were also downsides.

"What is this?" Ernest said as he read the report. 

"Herr Teucher…there has been an increase of violence committed by the Crentian Workers Party. Passersby are reporting them to the police saying that they are intimidating and harassing them, there are fist-fights anywhere near venues where our party speakers are making a speech, and it was very disorganized," Kleist reported, looking visibly concerned.

"Shit…this is bad. How come our soldiers behaved so rubbish and no one is disciplining them?" Ernest asked frustratingly.

Kleist sighed, "We have military personnel, yes, but we're lacking in officers with the right experience to manage discipline within a civilian political framework." 

"But we have General Steiner? And he had brought high-ranking officers with him. So what's the use of that? You know what, can you call General Steiner here, I want to speak with him directly," Ernest demanded.

"I will inform the General immediately," he said and promptly exited the room to fetch Steiner.

A short while later, General Steiner entered Ernest's office.

"General Steiner, we have a problem," Ernest began without preamble. "Your men are causing disturbances and engaging in violent behavior. This is not the disciplined force we envisioned. What's going wrong?"

Steiner frowned, his hands clasped behind his back. "Herr Teucher, I assure you that discipline in a military context is my forte. However, transitioning these men from traditional army roles to a political movement's security detail requires adjustments. Not all officers have grasped how to apply military discipline in this new context effectively."

"That's understandable, General, but we need a solution. We cannot allow our party to be seen as a group of thugs. It will hurt our public image." 

Steiner nodded. "I agree entirely. However, there's little that we can do." 

"Little? What do you mean by that?" 

"As you can see, Herr Teucher, we are still serving the Crentian Army, therefore we cannot be seen working with a political party full-time. This hampers our ability to fully control and monitor the behavior of these men when they are acting under the banner of the party." 

"So that was the cause huh?" Ernest muttered.

"I thought. This is what happens when your political army is just a group of soldiers without officers. We lack officers, and I don't think the soldiers respect officers because this army is not really an army, it is more like a paramilitary that doesn't follow the strict regulations of a formal military structure," Ernest analyzed.

Steiner nodded, understanding the challenge. "That's an accurate assessment, Herr Teucher. Our structure is indeed more fluid than that of the regular army, which can lead to discipline issues among ranks not accustomed to such autonomy."

"However, we can't let things be," Ernest said, rising up to his feet and walking towards the window where he observed the people milling about on the streets below. "We need someone who can command respect and effectively enforce discipline."

Steiner followed Ernest's gaze, nodding slowly. "I agree, Herr Teucher. Unfortunately, I don't have any suggestions that I can give as all of them are still working with the Crentian Army. Perhaps officers that retired after the Great War may be of help?" 

Ernest shook his head. "Finding an officer is easy but would they get respected by the soldiers? I don't think so. I need someone popular, someone that when his name was mentioned, all of them would be awed and proud to see him command. We need a figure that's not just a leader, but a symbol."

Steiner paused, stroking his chin thoughtfully, then his eyes lit up. "Ah, there might be someone. During the Great War, there was a fighter ace, known not just for his skill in the air but also for his leadership on the ground. He became a sort of legend among the troops. His name is Herman von Kessler. After the war, he retired from active service."

"Herrman von Kessler," Ernest repeated, rolling the name around as if tasting it. "Yes, I've heard of him. He downed more enemy planes than any news could cover and became something of a folk hero."

"Exactly," Steiner nodded. "He's respected, not just for his wartime heroics but also for his integrity and leadership qualities. If he agrees to take on this role, his reputation alone could instill a sense of pride and discipline among our ranks."

"That sounds promising," Ernest said, a spark of hope in his voice. "Can you contact him, General?"

"I can reach out to him," Steiner confirmed. "I believe he might be interested in helping, given his outspoken views on the need for Crentia to regain its military prowess."

"Please do, General. This could be the solution we need," Ernest said, turning back to look out the window, pondering the potential impact of bringing such a revered figure into their fold. "Let's aim to meet with him as soon as possible."

"I'll make arrangements immediately, Herr Teucher," Steiner assured, then excused himself to begin the task.

***

May 30th, 1947. 

Herrman von Kessler was drinking his beer at one of the popular beer halls in the capital city of the state of Bayern, Muenchen. He was all alone by himself, his appearance covered by thick clothing, a hat, and a shadow that fell across his face from the brim of his hat. As he took another sip, lost in thought, he barely noticed the young man who approached and took a seat across from him.

"So this is where I will find you," Ernest said, settling into the chair and signaling to a passing waitress. He ordered a beer for himself, his gaze fixed on the man across the table.

Herrman looked up, his eyes narrowing slightly as he appraised the newcomer. He had expected many things when he agreed to meet someone from the political world, but a young man who hardly looked old enough to shave wasn't one of them.

"Do I know you?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that carried a hint of authority and wariness.

"No, but you will," Ernest replied smoothly, his eyes never leaving Herrman's face. He leaned back as the waitress placed a beer in front of him, thanking her with a nod before turning his attention back to Herrman. 

"I'm Ernest Teucher, the leader of the Crentian Workers' Party. And you, Herr Kessler, are exactly the man we need."