The night after victory.
Soldiers in the trenches savored the joy of surviving and celebrated together. It's a sacred day to those on the front lines.
With a few luxury items and a bit of alcohol in hand, they shared drinks with their comrades and solemnly honored the fallen.
"…"
There was a man famed as an "Ace" of trench warfare on the Western Front.
A platoon leader of assault troops who sprinted freely between trenches while wielding an outdated sword.
His name was Garback.
He had no interest in rank and was a man fixated on the front lines.
"My job isn't to sit back and bark orders, it's to stand soaked in blood and mud at the front lines and cut down as many enemies as I can."
That's what he believed.
***
The higher-ups found it difficult to deal with someone like Garback.
Merit must be rewarded in the military. Soldiers have to be rewarded for their achievements.
Yet, this man insisted on staying on the front lines and had no desire to be ranked higher than Sergeant.
So, his superior officer, Renvel, asked him:
"Is there anything you want as a reward for your achievements?"
Sergeant Garback answered, looking bored:
"Then how about some alcohol. I want the finest liquor and the best snacks you can get in Austin."
"I see."
His request was granted and premium liquor was sent to him with every success he achieved.
Thus, Garback lived a leisurely life on the battlefield.
His tent was always stocked with fine alcohol, and he enjoyed more luxurious meals than anyone else.
To him, that was enough compensation for risking his life on the front lines.
In addition to luxury items, he also requested a variety of other things.
Spare swords, skilled scouts, medics capable of surviving on the frontlines, and so on.
Garback dreamed of one day breaking through the enemy trenches.
Even after spending ten long years in the trenches, he never served out of habit or complacency.
In his own way, he was struggling to bring the war to an end.
***
"Platoon Leader, today was a huge victory."
"Yeah, it was."
"Are we doing the usual tonight?"
"Let's do it."
Even someone like Garback had moments when he let his guard down.
It was on the night after a victory when he gathered his platoon for a feast.
"Allen, gather the men in my tent. I'm going to swipe some luxury items."
"Got it. Best of luck with the supply raid, Platoon Leader."
Garback wasn't interested in women. To him, the only pleasure on the battlefield was drinking.
"Make sure someone's got a performance ready."
"Yes, sir."
With that, Garback headed off to his superior to request his share of luxury items.
You could buy whatever you liked at the canteen if you had the money, but rookie soldiers had to wait for supplies.
And on the night after a victory, all the soldiers who took part in the operation were given luxury items.
The victory celebration was a rare opportunity for the entire platoon to drink together.
"…"
These parties were Garback's only form of entertainment on the battlefield.
***
"Alright. You guys have your party tricks ready, right?!"
"Yeah!"
During his long military career, the attendees at these parties frequently changed.
Those who were good at livening things up and those who kept quiet because they were shy all died equally.
Garback accepted that as the harsh fate of the battlefield.
"Who's going up first?"
"Then, if I may be so bold, I'll go."
"Alright, Second Class Medic Touri!"
Using his subordinates' performances as entertainment, Garback opened the lid of his prized liquor.
The pungent aroma of distilled liquor soothed his soul.
"Now then… Rodri, could I ask for your assistance?"
"Me? Well, I guess that's fine."
"Now, I shall demonstrate the secret art of human dismemberment."
Lately, Garback had been enjoying the parties more than usual.
That was because the rookie medic he hadn't expected much from turned out to be quite talented.
Looking at his noisy subordinates, Garback took out some dried jerky from a small bottle.
Dried meat was the perfect snack to accompany alcohol on the battlefield.
It was rich in flavor, chewy, and went well with distilled spirits.
This was Garback's favorite combination of alcohol and snacks.
"…♪"
Garback first took a gulp of the distilled liquor to let the alcohol soak in.
He then roasted the dried meat skewered on a stick over the flames from the campfire.
The dried meat softened and loosened, and clear droplets of fat glistened on its surface.
"Oh, how strange! Rodri's head and torso are separating~"
"Gwah, killed by the shorty!
"Hahaha! You finally got taken out, Rodri!"
The comrades laughed happily as they watched the exciting performance.
One of the highlights of these parties was being able to see the normally grim-faced soldiers smile.
"Second Class Private Rodri's life became the foundation of Second Class Medic Touri's party act! Everyone, salute!"
"Yes, salute!"
"Hey, hurry up and put me back, Shorty!"
Garback bit into the warm, tender meat and chewed heartily.
The strong salty flavor of the meat spreading through his mouth made him thirsty.
He quickly brought the bottle of liquor to his lips and took a big gulp.
The alcohol mixed with his breath, and he sank into a pleasant intoxication.
"Alright, I'll put him back now."
"Ah, man. That really scared me."
"I'm glad it worked, Touri."
"Thank you very much. That concludes the human dismemberment magic. What did you think, Platoon Leader?"
The rookie medic reported the end of her performance with hopeful eyes.
"Oh, this time was good too. Here, take this."
"Thank you."
Without any hesitation, Garback gave away the chocolate he had been given.
This medic's acting alone was at a level where she could probably make a living as a street performer.
Rewarding merit and punishing failure is an ironclad rule of the military.
"This chocolate is delicious, Rodri."
"Damn, lucky you."
Seeing the happy face of the rookie made the alcohol taste even better.
Garback took another sip of the delicious wine with a satisfied look on his face.
"So, who's next?"
"If no one else wants to go, I'll go."
"Please wait, Allen. I think it would be better for you to be the final act."
"Oh, really? Well, if the Corporal says so."
Next, Garback took out some hardtack from his backpack.
This was an Austin Army ration designed to be long-lasting, and was by no means a tasty treat.
Since it was hard as-is, soldiers dipped it in soup and complained about how terrible it was while eating the bread every day.
"…"
However, there was another way to eat hardtack.
The method was to soak it in alcohol. The flavor of the liquor had the effect of balancing the unpleasant taste of the hardtack.
Eating hardtack soaked in alcohol was one of the refined ways trench soldiers enjoyed their drink.
"Alright, I'm next. I picked up a pretty good joke, so I'll do a little stand-up."
"Really? Go ahead, Rodri."
After soaking the bread generously in liquor, Garback spread butter and a beef paste on it.
With this, the usually awful hardtack transformed into a nice snack to go with the liquor.
Garback bit into the bread and swallowed it down along with his drink.
"It seems that lately some dangerous games have become popular in the trenches. I heard this story from a soldier who was guarding the gunpowder the other day—"
Garback, the ace of these trenches, was quite the gourmet.
He had plenty of savings thanks to his many years of military service.
Garback spent most of it on luxury items.
Distilled liquor, of course, and butter and meat paste were all high-end items.
He spared no expense in enjoying his alcohol.
"Hey, don't tell me the punchline of that story is 'the culprit was the guard.'"
"Ah! Why'd you have to say it, Senior!!!"
"It was so obvious! You amateur!!!"
"That's harsh!"
Suddenly, Garback noticed the bottle of liquor was empty.
Garback felt a little disappointed at having drunk it all before he knew it.
"Platoon leader, what should we do about this guy?"
"Ah?"
The moment the liquor ran out was precisely when he became irritable.
Rodri's failed performance came at the worst possible time.
"Bury him."
"No way!"
And so, Rodri was buried up to his face in the ground without much reason.
The soldiers, drunk and in high spirits, happily obeyed the order from their superior.
***
"Umm, Platoon Leader?"
"What is it?"
"May I perform an extra party trick?"
Seeing the boy's predicament, the medic stood up again. She sighed softly and bowed before Garback.
"Go ahead, Touri."
"Now, here's some escape magic."
The young medic said this as she covered the buried Rodri with a sheet.
After a few seconds of muffled struggling beneath the sheet:
"One, two, three!"
"Oh!"
When Touri opened the sheet, Rodri had escaped from the ground.
"Thank you for your patronage."
"…Thanks, Shorty."
"Geez, Touri is really soft on Rodri."
As usual, it was an impressive party trick. Garback himself didn't really understand how it worked.
"How about this? Can you please forgive Rodri?"
"…Well, alright. You're forgiven."
"Thank you."
Garback, whose thinking ability had been impaired by the alcohol, got fed up and gave Rodri some chocolate.
These luxuries were originally meant for subordinates. Unless someone really messed up, they were supposed to receive them.
"This is the first time I've gotten chocolate…"
"Rodri didn't really do anything."
"I did my stand-up bit, though."
Including this kind of messy atmosphere, Garback enjoyed the parties in the trenches.