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http://pastebin.com/2MSV2Y8mTLDR Plot:
http://pastebin.com/zUkMN2Ti-25 kilometers from the city of Messingplatz, Kaiser's 5th Army
Night had fallen. Thick clouds had come in during the sun’s setting and shrouded the land, every last remnant of dusk devoured by a darkness that consumed even starlight. Alexander, shivering in his foxhole, was unnerved by the total dark, but he was thankful that that was the most he had to worry about for now.
This war, if it could be called such, had been remarkably kind to him and his comrades. The Reich had done the large share of the fighting so far; the masters of his realm, the Duchy of Mussel, had aligned themselves with the Kaiser of the Grossreich of Czeiss before his country, Strossvald, had even been invaded. The Von Blums, he had heard, got off rather poorly. The head of their house had hesitated until the Reich showed that they were to make good on their promises, causing his retinue to divide and destroy themselves. No such bad luck had manifested for the Mussel.
The transfer had been simple. There wasn’t even a shuffling of command; the troops used the equipment they originally had, they kept the officers who originally led them, and wore the uniforms they had always worn, with the addition of a white armband.
Some men had complained that fighting against former comrades upset them, but Alexander didn’t agree. He came from a family of furniture makers; concepts such as loyalty to the state and presumptions of chivalry were important to the nobles, but had little practical meaning to him. The way he saw it, the Reich was as good as invincible; why go against them? Their former countrymen were offered the same chances as they had to surrender and get on the winning side. Anybody who didn’t was practically committing suicide, really.
