As the main force secured its position in the village, the Battalion’s Baggage Train carefully drove into a concealed area on the village’s outskirts. Smoke soon began to rise from the Hf.11 Field Kitchen Cars of each company.
Having only gnawed on a few pieces of dry bread since yesterday, Morin was ravenously hungry. So, after parting ways with Captain Hauser, he followed the first rotation of soldiers to the 3rd Company’s kitchen car, eager as a wolf.
The staple food of the Saxon Empire Army was black bread, consumed with thick soup or stew, and occasionally supplemented with canned meat. On the folding tables next to the field kitchen car, piles of the army-special black bread, known as Kommissbrot, were stacked. The fresh aroma suggested these were newly baked. Morin wasn’t surprised by this, as he had learned that the 16th Infantry Brigade was equipped with a Field Bakery Company—a unit usually found only at the division level. This bread was likely baked by them and delivered to the various companies’ field kitchens. Yes, the Field Bakery Company, with over a hundred bakers, primarily supplied the entire division’s black bread in normal circumstances. Since they could produce over 20,000 loaves of bread daily, supplying just one infantry brigade was incredibly easy.
Morin swallowed, his eyes lighting up as he saw a plump cook by the kitchen car slicing something that looked like sausage into a large pot. “Nice! We get sausage!” He knew that the Saxon Army’s rations included several dishes featuring various sausages, which actually tasted quite good.
“Second Lieutenant, I could have just brought the food to you. You didn’t have to come in person…” The orderly, who was accompanying Morin, couldn’t help but comment on his Platoon Leader’s starved appearance.
“No, no, no. I must eat immediately!” Morin shook his head, took his mess kit from the orderly, and lined up with the other soldiers, full of anticipation.
However, his hopes for the world’s field rations were thoroughly dashed when he saw the cook ladle a spoonful of slightly viscous, grayish-white thick soup from the large pot, paired with two pieces of black bread that could double as armor plates. When he saw the discarded wrapper of the ‘sausage’ on the ground, he immediately understood.
“Ah, Erbswurst (Pea Soup Sausage). Never mind.”
Not all ‘sausages’ were actual sausages, or rather, the Saxons referred to most long-shaped packaged foods as ‘sausages.’ The famous Erbswurst, known in both worlds, was one of them. This mixture of bacon, onions, peas, and dehydrated vegetables had nothing to do with the sausage Morin knew. The correct way to eat it was to slice it thickly and dissolve it in hot water to create a bowl of thick soup.
For a hungry man, however, the taste of food is secondary. The warm soup at least offered some comfort. Besides, Morin had actually wanted to try Erbswurst before he transmigrated, but the company that produced it (which sold it under the name ‘Knorr’ and whose most famous product was Bouillon Cubes in his previous world) had discontinued the century-old product in 2018. So, this was a fulfillment of a regret across time and space.
After receiving his soup and bread, Morin and the orderly sat down beneath a tree. Following the example of the other soldiers, he forcefully broke the hard black bread into small pieces, soaked them in the thick soup, and then wolfed down the bread after it had softened with the broth.
Saxon-style Pao Mo (soaked flatbread), success!
A hot meal finally drove away the hunger in Morin’s stomach.
After the pleasant lunchtime was over, Morin and the orderly returned to the 3rd Platoon’s position. Once the rotation was complete and all the platoon’s soldiers had eaten, Morin gathered Sergeant Klaus, the four Corporals, and the eight Squad Leaders. As they gathered around him, they looked somewhat confused, thinking a new combat mission was about to be issued.
Instead, Morin cleared his throat and told them there was no emergency, and they were taking the time to hold a Post-Action Review (combat summary meeting).
This announcement stunned the veterans and NCOs. They exchanged glances, unsure what this meant. In their experience, combat was about obeying orders, winning or losing, and then waiting for the next command. They had never heard of sitting down for a meeting after the fighting was done.
Morin was not surprised by their reaction. Without further explanation, he directly asked everyone for their thoughts on the morning’s battle, or where they thought improvements could be made.
Now, everyone was even more perplexed, and the atmosphere grew stiff. This was the first time they had experienced such a thing, and Morin was their new commander, so no one dared to speak first.
Finally, a young Squad Leader who had charged at the front with Morin during the farmhouse assault hesitantly spoke up. “Second Lieutenant… I… I felt the physical exertion was much greater than I expected.” The young Squad Leader scratched his head awkwardly. “Especially the part where we outflanked through the riverbed. Sprinting hundreds of meters over complex terrain… by the time we reached the farmhouse wall, several of my men were completely out of breath.”
Morin nodded in approval. “You made an excellent point. The basis of all tactics is physical fitness.” Morin was relieved that someone had responded and brought up a meaningful issue. “Judging by the current training regimen and rations, physical fitness is indeed a weakness… I will keep this in mind and try to factor in the physical toll on the men when assigning tasks in the future.”
With the first person breaking the ice, the others became less reserved, and the discussion took off.
“Second Lieutenant, you ordered us to advance dispersed by squad. That did effectively evade enemy fire and prevented us from being wiped out! But on the battlefield, once the shooting starts and the formation spreads out, it’s hard to maintain control. Sometimes we can’t even hear commands clearly.” A Corporal raised his confusion.
Another Squad Leader agreed: “Yes, especially when we are separated from the main force and can’t see you, we feel a bit lost and don’t know what to do next.”
Morin attributed these issues to one thing: a lack of relevant training. “These are new tactics. It’s normal not to be used to them. With a few more attempts, and once we build mutual understanding, the situation will be much better.” He patiently explained, but secretly marveled at how well the Saxon Empire’s “Mission-Type Command” system suited him. Superiors only issued the mission objective; as long as the subordinates didn’t violate military law, they were largely free to determine the method of completion. The famous “Stormtrooper” tactics from his past world were developed by front-line officers under this very framework. This model gave Morin immense freedom in command, which was the fundamental reason Captain Hauser ultimately agreed to let him take a platoon on a separate mission this morning.
The combat summary meeting lasted for about half an hour, and the atmosphere grew increasingly warm. Morin specifically instructed the eight Squad Leaders to also talk to their soldiers when they had time, listening for their thoughts and difficulties.
After everyone had dispersed, Platoon Sergeant Klaus remained behind. The experienced veteran looked at Morin with genuine admiration. “Second Lieutenant, my eyes have truly been opened today,” Klaus said sincerely. “Since last night, I’ve learned so much with you that I never had access to before!”
“Sergeant Klaus, you flatter me. I’m just sharing some of my experience, hoping to reduce casualties in combat.” Getting closer to Sergeant Klaus, who held high prestige within the platoon, was a good thing for Morin; it meant his control over the unit had taken another step forward.
As the two chatted, a messenger from the Battalion Command jogged over.
“Second Lieutenant Morin! Major Thomas requests your presence!”
(End of Chapter 16)