I finally enjoyed a long-awaited rest.
Having become the Medical Headquarters' pet, I was able to enjoy a peaceful night for the first time in several days that night.
Being able to lie down and sleep is such a luxury. And to sleep on fabric? For a soldier, that's an almost unimaginable happiness.
Given the speed of the enemy's advance, the offensive was expected to begin tomorrow morning.
Currently, they're laying waste to and occupying nearby towns.
Perhaps it was the calm before the storm, but that night in Marshdale was eerily quiet.
"Mr. Kuma, can I ask you something?"
"What is it, Touri?"
Taking advantage of this precious and tranquil time, I asked Mr. Kuma a few questions.
I thought it better to clarify things now than be caught off-guard during the heat of the moment.
"Where should the bodies of those who died in the line of duty be taken?"
"Ah, I plan to carry them up to the second floor of this building. We'll lay them on desks, with name tags covering their faces."
Mr. Kuma planned to place the fallen soldiers on desks in a way that would make it easy to identify them.
I'm sure the soldiers would appreciate such respectful treatment, even in death.
But…
"That might be a little difficult."
"Why do you say that?"
"If the battle becomes intense, there likely won't be time to carry the deceased up to the second floor."
"So… what do we propose, then?"
"At the field hospital, we would dig a hole close to the hospital beds. We would lay the deceased in there and immediately move the next wounded soldier to the vacant bed."
Right after a battle, a field hospital becomes a scene of utter chaos.
It's like playing whack-a-mole and responding appropriately to patients whose conditions are suddenly deteriorating.
"Well, that's… I guess they had no choice on the front lines."
"As the fighting intensifies, there won't be enough time to tend to all the wounded. Every moment we spend on the deceased is time taken away from saving those who are still alive."
This isn't because the medics on the front lines were heartless. In fact, they were some of the most compassionate people I'd ever met.
It's because they cared, they had to prioritize the living.
"When there's time, your approach is definitely best. But in an emergency, carrying heavy bodies up to the second floor just isn't realistic."
"…"
"There's a storage room on the first floor. I'll secure permission to use it, so we could stack the deceased there."
There's no time to dig a grave at this point. The safest option is to leave the bodies in storage.
If the field hospital's bedside attendant was there, he'd probably throw the bodies out the window.
As long as someone's alive, we'll treat them as human beings, but once they're dead, we'll mercilessly treat them like objects.
"Do you think we'll lose that many people?"
"Yes, that's unfortunately the case… "
"Really…"
The current momentum of the Sabbatian soldiers is truly remarkable.
Even though it is a fortified city, it is hard to imagine that it could be defended unscathed.
"It was once said that Marshdale Fortress was impregnable."
"The times have changed."
In the past, fortresses were effective against archers and cavalry.
Horses couldn't leap over walls, arrows couldn't penetrate stone, and the walls, reinforced against magic, took considerable time to breach.
Because of this, Marshdale was once deemed an impenetrable stronghold.
"How long can we hold out with so few soldiers…?"
But times have changed. Gunpowder and heavy artillery now dominate long-range combat.
With the advent of explosives and grenades that can shatter fortresses, walls are no longer safe against bombardment, even by those done by non-mages. As a result, fortresses have lost much of their former value.
Furthermore, with the development of things like barbed wire and magic circles that explode when stepped on, even a simple dug trench can provide sufficient defensive capabilities.
Although fortresses have large walls and therefore boast a certain degree of defensive capability, they are gradually losing their former usefulness.
"Alright, I understand your point. I'll go ahead and secure permission. The living must always come first."
"Understood."
Maybe Mr. Kuma can't even imagine it.
The sight of Sabbatian soldiers swarming into the city streets of Marshdale…
And the mountains of corpses piled up unceremoniously that were a daily occurrence at the field hospital.
***
The next morning, around 5:00 a.m..
I went outside the walls of Marshdale with several medical staff members.
Outside Marshdale, there's a plain with sparse weeds and holes here and there, remnants of past wars.
The ground is quite uneven, which also makes it difficult to advance.
"May we set up here?"
"Yes."
We spread a large wrapping cloth on the slope of the uneven ground in a position that would make it difficult for the enemy to see us, and set up our tents.
In addition, the medical headquarters flag was hung at the entrance to make it easy for the soldiers to identify.
"It's complete, the Frontline Medical Clinic."
While we have a medical headquarters set up inside Marshdale, that's purely for the critically injured.
For minor injuries, retreating all the way back into the city would be inefficient.
So, I proposed we set up this field station on the frontlines to handle minor injuries.
"Let's put the supplies here, then."
"Got it, Little Boss."
"…Please just call me Touri."
This base was named the Frontline Medical Clinic. As a soldier, I was put in charge of it.
That being said, my medical skills are the worst here.
Of course, I'll work hard, but I am only in charge in name only.
If you ask me what my main role is, it is to identify seriously injured people who are difficult to treat and triage them, deciding whether to send them to the rear or treat them on the front lines.
I'm familiar with seeing bullet wounds, burns, and other traumatic injuries unique to the battlefield. I thought I'd be able to triage the most accurately here.
"Cale, you need to speak respectfully. Miss Touri is technically your superior after all."
"That's true. I would rather have a cute boss like her than my current boss, Orben! He's a real a hard-ass."
"It's a job where people's lives are at stake, so it's normal for his training to be strict."
"Nah, it's just him blowing off steam."
A young doctor named Cale accompanied me to the front lines while complaining about his superior with a relaxed look on his face.
He probably feels at ease since the fighting hasn't started yet.
The enemy is expected to attack in the morning, but for now, they remained stationed at a distance and showed no signs of moving.
It was as if they were taking a rest.
"Ah, I kind of wanted to fire a gun. I'd blow away any enemy who gets close!"
"It would be difficult for an amateur to handle a gun."
"But hey, aren't there loads of spare guns? Couldn't they spare one?"
"It's not that we have extra guns. It's more accurate to say that we don't have enough soldiers. And military regulations forbid us in the medical department from carrying firearms."
The young doctor spoke in a light-hearted manner, as if he were playing a game.
His attitude is all too familiar to me—it's the same as I had when I impulsively agreed to enlist.
"Remember that we're stationed in a dangerous place."
"What do you mean dangerous? Aren't we in the rear?"
For some reason, he was thrilled about being stationed on the frontlines, although most people dreaded being deployed in dangerous areas.
Even Mr. Kuma had a fit when young recruits like me were sent to the front, exclaiming, "Sending kids to the frontlines!"
But Lieutenant Aria overruled him, saying this setup was optimal.
In reality, it does make sense for young recruits to handle minor injuries.
Besides, even though we're on the front lines, we're stationed at the very rear of the battlefield.
As someone who used to run on the front lines behind my Platoon Leader's back, I feel a little sorry for my platoon mates because this is such a safe position.
"Well, let's give it our best today, Little Boss."
"Yes."
"We'll do our part, too. You can count on us."
"Thank you."
Most of the nurses and healers assigned to the frontlines with me were young.
The young, fresh nurses were surrounding the relaxed doctor, who appears to be in his 20s, and were chatting away.
"Well then, we still have a while before the enemy invades. For now, please conserve your strength."
"Right!"
…This is the result of selecting physically fit personnel.
For instance, Mr. Kuma is a stout, middle-aged man who would be out of breath after running just a hundred meters.
Those without sufficient stamina risk losing their lives if the front lines are breached and retreat is necessary.
"What do we do if the enemy actually gets this far?"
"Ha! I might look like this, but I used to play football. I'll be the first to run!"
"Please don't be the only one running after all that talk, Cale!"
"Ahahah!"
I was worried that there was no sense of tension despite the upcoming battle, but I decided to let it slide.
Their banter is like the casual joking soldiers use to mask their fears.
It would mean our complete annihilation if the enemy ever reaches this point.
I guess it's better for them to remain optimistic than to panic.
***
Later that day, just after noon.
Now rested and refreshed, the Sabbatian soldiers let out a battle cry and began their invasion of the fortress city of Marshdale.
We decide to resist by barricading ourselves in the redoubt.
Marshdale's walls are probably not strong enough to withstand modern artillery magic.
We'll be defeated if all three fortresses are taken and the Marshdale's walls collapse due to artillery fire.
If the war were to shift to urban combat, we would have no choice but to focus on buying time to allow as many allies as possible to withdraw.
Is everyone in the Garback Platoon safe?
If someone I knew like Rodri, Senior Allen, or Corporal Verdi, were brought to this Frontline Medical Clinic with fatal injuries, would I be able to respond calmly?
I need to be prepared. Don't let your personal feelings get the better of you.
It'd be incredibly selfish to try to save someone's life when they're on the verge of death with no hope of survival.
This would mean resources would be diverted elsewhere and lives that could be saved would be lost.
Even if Rodri was brought in groaning with burns all over his body, I must remain cold-hearted and throw him out of the clinic to die.
Until the moment Rodri takes his last breath, I wouldn't be able to spend even a moment with him.
"…"
I felt a sour taste in my stomach rise up. Just thinking about it makes me want to throw up.
However, I have to make such a decision as the only medic here who has experienced the battlefield.
This is all to avoid losing this war and to save as many of our allies as possible.
"Oh, what's the matter Little Boss? If you're scared, maybe you should pull back into the city?"
"N-No, I was just steeling my resolve. Thank you for your concern."
"Yeah, I guess it's natural to be scared. You're still young."
My face turned pale as soon as the battle started. The staff surrounded me with worried looks on their faces.
This isn't acceptable; what good is a superior officer who makes those around them feel uneasy?
The Platoon Leader's expression never changed even when his innards were being handled, which was a bit frightening.
On the other hand, he's also very reliable.
…Maybe that's why he always wears a stern, unyielding expression.
"Don't push yourself. You can run back to the main headquarters if you're scared. You're the youngest here, after all."
"No… It's really okay."
Turning to the healers who were watching me with worried looks, I replied with a vague smile.
Even if I can't imitate Platoon Leader Garback, I'll at least try to fulfill my responsibilities as the leader.
"What I'm most afraid of isn't being killed by the enemy, but the death of my dear comrades. The thought of that terrifies me."
"I see…"
As soon as I finished speaking, explosions echoed across Marshdale's frontlines.