Black Iron's Glory

Claude had become somewhat of a mythical figure among the new recruits for getting into conflict with the senior soldiers on his first day and send six of them to the infirmary. Even though he had to be treated himself, that didn’t lessen his glory in the least. The four noble mates of his from the same tent spread word around and Claude was now the hero of the new recruits.

Now that he had recovered from his injuries and returned, he was a target for the attention of many. Eyes trailed with him as he walked past with many cheering for him, much to the discomfort of First Lieutenant Sidori.

“Second Lieutenant Most, the new recruit, Claude Ferd’s three days of solitary confinement has ended. He’s returning to camp today. Please sign this.” Sidori handed a document to a bearded second lieutenant with a stern look. Claude looked curiously at the officer’s tent which was slightly larger than the recruit’s camp.

The bearded man didn’t say anything and quickly signed the document. Sidori got it back and said after some thought, “Second Lieutenant Most, I hope you can pay attention to Claude’s training. Make sure he becomes a Bluefeather soldier fitting of our name. Let him not tarnish the reputation of the blue feather on our caps.”

Most shot Sidori an odd look and said, “First Lieutenant Sidori, you are in charge of an enforcer tent. Training isn’t your strong point. Trust me, with my experience, any soldier under my care will soon turn into a decent member of our corps.”

Sidori turned around without a change in expression. The bearded Most then turned to Claude with a smile. “How did you piss him off to get him to pay extra attention to you like that?”

Claude didn’t know how to respond and merely shrugged.

Most patted Claude on the shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t worry, it’s fine. Know that you’re the hero of the new recruits. I think you did rather well for taking on six alone. You have the moves. And you are the first to still be able to stand so steadily after three days of solitary. So, I’ll reward you with a half-day break. You won’t have to train in the afternoon. What you need now is a good bath and a good meal at the infirmary, as well as some sleep once you get back. Your training won’t be easy starting tomorrow.”

Claude stood straight and saluted the second lieutenant in a substandard manner. “Thank you, Sir.”

When he returned to the tent, Claude was surrounded by Aboyev, Moriad, Dyavid and Berklin right away. They attended to his every need attentively.

The rest of the beds in the tent already had their owners. Some new recruits Claude didn’t know looked at him enviously as the nobles called him their boss.

It was around noon and the recruits who just finished their training were waiting for the lunch horn to blow. According to Aboyev, there was another hour or so of rest time after lunch which would be enough for them to take a good nap. The afternoon training session began at two thirty and would end around four or five. In total, they would only really be training for four to five hours a day.

Claude found the schedule to be quite loose. Was that really how the supposedly harsh three-month recruit training course was? It didn’t seem like a big deal to him. At least, it wasn’t as strict as military universities from his past life.

“It really is a pain to have to go through harsh training like this every day for three whole months… You’re lucky, boss. You got to stay at the infirmary for half a month before coming back and missed out on so much training,” Moriad groaned.

Berklin gave him a malicious glance and said, “Why don’t I give you a good beating then? If you can endure the pain, I can ensure that you won’t leave the infirmary for half a month to skip out on training.”

“Tch, in your dreams–” Moriad rolled his eyes, “–I’d rather go for training. At least, I would still be able to move around instead of staying bedridden.”

“Alright, friends. I’m really thankful for your warm welcome. Even though you don’t mind the stench on me, I can’t personally bear it. I’m going to take a bath and get some food first. Let’s chat after I get back,” Claude said.

“Boss, I’ll accompany you. I got really sweaty from morning training and could use a bath too,” Aboyev said enthusiastically.

The other three decided to tag along. All five of them brought a change of clothes with them to the bath house.

Claude found that having four minions turned out to be rather convenient. During his bath, Berklin rubbed his back thoroughly and the others took care of his nails, hair and even teeth. A squeezed towel and toothbrush with tooth powder ready were all handed to him. Even Moriad took care of his dirty clothes.

The bath hall of the base was connected to a stream on the hill. The water was siphoned in through ceramic and bamboo pipes into each of the large tubs within. Apart from the slightly cold water, it was satisfactory on all other fronts. Claude felt refreshed after his bath and went to the mess hall with his friends after he changed into a set of new clothes.

He found that there were two more large stoves in the mess hall instead of the former four. According to Aboyev, the mess hall was expanded following the brawl to have six stoves. The two leftmost ones are for the use of the senior soldiers of the officer training course, the next two were for the other soldiers of the camp and the two rightmost ones were for the new recruits.

If that had been implemented earlier, he wouldn’t have had to go to the infirmary after sending those other six on their way first. He thought that Perunt was right to say that the upper brass thought with their ass instead of their heads. If there was no incident, they wouldn’t bother to improve upon anything.

But even the two new stoves didn’t change the mess hall’s menu. It was the same old baked potato meat stew, black bread with bacon and a fist-sized baked apple along with free-flow red tea.

Still, the sight of meat was enough to cause his mouth to water after three days of nothing but black bread and plain water. He wanted so much for the chef to give him two extra ribs for his stew. Aboyev and the others on the other hand were quite frustrated. Eating the same thing nonstop caused them to lose appetite. But they knew that if they didn’t stuff themselves up, the training would be unbearable, so they tried their best to stuff food in their mouths.

Claude wolfed down his canteen of food cleanly and wanted to get another. The chef was quite glad as he hadn’t seen anyone enjoy the stew he cooked so much, so he gave him two more scoops and almost overfed Claude.

Just as he was happily eating, one of the senior soldiers came over and put his canteen in front of Claude and shot him a glare.

“Good day. Can I help you?” Claude swallowed his food and looked up. The senior soldier looked rather fierce. He didn’t seem like someone to be trifled with.

“Are you Claude Ferd?” asked the man with a smile that showed his clean, neat teeth.

“I am. Who might you be?”

“I am Staff Sergeant Fitney. you don’t know me, but I’ve heard of you for quite some time. I am here to thank you for sending my brothers to the infirmary to get a good rest there,” Fitney said with the same smile.

Staff Sergeant Fitney? That sounds familiar… He soon recalled Bell’s warning for him to have his guard up against Fitney, who had boasted that he would show Claude a good time during a few meal sessions.

Claude stood up alertly. “What do you want?”

Fitney shook his head. “Don’t worry, I won’t teach you a lesson here. We are all training and I don’t have any time to educate you. But I promise that we will soon meet. You won’t be able to escape the palm of my hand.”

After he said that, Fitney left. Claude felt a headache brewing. It seemed like the brawl was still there to haunt him. But what did Fitney mean when he said Claude couldn’t escape?

His four noble minions didn’t say a word and only spoke after Fitney was far away in the distance. “Who is that? His smug look really gets on my nerves. Boss, why don’t we assail him together and send him to the infirmary to join his friends? He actually dares to mouth off against us…”

Claude rubbed his nose and furrowed his brow. “Forget it. You guys only acted tough after he’s long gone. What’s the use of that? I don’t need you guys to beat him up. Just ask around and help me find out what kind of guy Staff Sergeant Fitney really is.”

“Got it, boss. We’ll look it up for you. I promise that we’ll find out everything about him, even the age at which he stopped wetting his bed,” Berklin said as he patted his chest confidently.

Claude started training the next day. Due to missing out on ten or so days of training, the instructor, Most, considerately assigned a corporal to get Claude up to speed. The corporal was someone Claude knew: Corporal Kro who tended to him on his first day on Chirp’s orders.

It appeared that Kro was regarded quite highly by those second lieutenants. However, he was quiet and kept much to himself and only responded with grunts or hums. Otherwise, Claude would’ve liked to ask him why he wasn’t part of the officer training course for senior soldiers.

The things Kro taught Claude included the salute, military discipline, posture, as well as the meanings of the different horn tunes. It only took three days for Claude to get a grasp on the basics. Unlike salutes on earth, salutes in Freia were done with the palm opened and four fingers pressed together with the thumb on one’s temple.

It was said to be passed down from ancient times. Even generals of two opposing sides saluted each other in that manner to show that they weren’t carrying hidden weapons in their palms and signal their willingness to engage in negotiation. Eventually, it became a standard military salute across Freia.

Military discipline on the other hand had to be memorized rote. For posture, there was how to stand and how to march. One’s chest had to be puffed out and back had to be straight at all times. Each step has to be synchronized with the others’ in the rank, but there wasn’t anything like the goose or parade steps. The horn tunes were rather simple too. Most of them were alternations of long and short sounds, but there weren’t many. Perhaps there was a concern that the troops would be confused by too many different horn signals.

Second Lieutenant Most was quite happy that it only took Claude three days to go over the basics. After a basic evaluation, he praised Kro for his work and announced that Claude could join training the next day, no longer having to be given personal training.

After that day, Claude joined the new recruits on the field, getting into rank and marching about. The instructors roared loudly and waved their long sticks to control the speed, orderliness and separation of units during the marches. From time to time, they would pick out a few new recruits and point out their flaws meticulously one after another.

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