Chapter 340: The Fanatical Major General

"Let them believe," Matsumoto finally said. "At least before they die, let them feel they are heroes. That may be... the only comfort we can give them."

Mutou fell silent. He looked at those young faces, looked at the light in their eyes, and a nameless sorrow welled up in his heart.

Many of these men would not live to see the end of the war.

But at least, when they died, they would believe they were heroes.

Was this a kind of mercy?

Mutou did not know.

He only knew that the war was still going, and death was still going.

And they were all just gears in this enormous machine, pushed by invisible forces, grinding toward an unknown destination.

That evening, the regimental headquarters officers' mess.

Major General Tanaka sat in the seat of honor, surrounded by officers of various ranks from the regimental headquarters. The dining table was laid with a rare lavish spread—sake shipped from home, canned beef, and even fresh vegetables. These were "comfort supplies" brought by the special envoy.

"Gentlemen," Major General Tanaka raised his cup, "on behalf of the Army Ministry, I toast you all! Thank you for your heroic fighting on the Eastern Front!"

The officers raised their cups one after another. The alcohol made the atmosphere lively, and everyone began to speak freely.

"General," said Colonel Tanaka—the regimental commander—"how is the response at home to the victories on the Eastern Front?"

"Extremely enthusiastic!" Major General Tanaka's face was flushed. "The newspapers report it on the front page every day, the people hold parades to celebrate, schools organize students to write comfort letters, and factories work overtime to produce comfort supplies. The Army Ministry's phones are nearly ringing off the hook—all asking how to sign up for the expeditionary force!"

He took a sip of wine and continued, "More importantly, the cabinet has already decided to increase the army's budget. The Scale of the third expeditionary force will be even larger than the second, and the equipment will be better too."

"And what about the navy?" someone asked.

Major General Tanaka's expression darkened for a moment. "The navy? Hmph, they're still making excuses for their defeat in the East Sea naval battle. Saying they were outnumbered, saying there was a gap in warship performance. All pretexts! A true soldier should be like the army—creating victory from a position of disadvantage!"

His words drew a chorus of agreement. The army and navy had always been at odds, and disparaging the navy on such an occasion was standard political correctness.

"However," Major General Tanaka shifted topics, "the navy has also been lobbying for budget recently. They want to build new battleships, saying they want to 'avenge their shame.' What a joke! With that money, they'd be better off sending a few more divisions to Europe and winning a few more battles!"

The officers laughed. The alcohol and the spirit of shared enmity filled the mess with a cheerful air.

But Matsumoto noticed that Major Yoshida had not said a word the entire time. He only drank silently, ate his food, his expression unusually calm.

After a few rounds of drinks, Major General Tanaka began to reveal more "inside information."

"Gentlemen, besides the comfort visit, I have another important mission this time." He lowered his voice. "The Army Ministry is formulating a grand plan—after the war, we will establish a 'Greater XX Co-Prosperity Sphere' in Yazhou. Sakura Nation, as the leader, will guide the nations of Yazhou to throw off Western colonialism and prosper together."

The officers' eyes lit up. It was an inspiring vision.

"And to realize this vision," Major General Tanaka continued, "we need more land, more resources, a stronger army. The war in Europe has given us the opportunity—the Western powers are wearing each other down here, and their strength in Yazhou will weaken. When that time comes..."

He did not finish, but the meaning was clear.

"So," Colonel Tanaka picked up the thread, "our fighting in Europe is not only to help Deguo, but also for... the future of Sakura Nation?"

"Exactly!" Major General Tanaka slapped the table. "Every victory, every advance, is paving the way for the rise of Sakura Nation! Gentlemen, you are not only soldiers, but pioneers of the empire! History will remember you! When that time comes, you will be veterans of a hundred battles!"

These words were delivered with such passion that the officers were all infected. Some were even moved to tears.

Only Major Yoshida remained calm. He even shook his head slightly, and though the movement was small, Matsumoto saw it.

The banquet lasted until late at night. Major General Tanaka drank himself dead drunk and was helped back to his room by his adjutant. The officers left one after another, until only Yoshida and Matsumoto remained in the mess.

"Major," Matsumoto tidied the cups on the table, "you seemed... not quite in agreement with General Tanaka's words earlier?"

Yoshida lit a cigarette and took a deep drag.

"Matsumoto, have you read history?" he asked suddenly.

"A little."

"Then do you know what happened to all the empires in history that tried to build a 'co-prosperity sphere' or a 'community'?"

Matsumoto thought for a moment. "It seems... they all failed."

"Not 'it seems'—they all failed." Yoshida said, "The Assyrian Empire, the Persian Empire, the Roman Empire, the Mongol Empire, the British Empire... they were all once glorious, all once tried to bring different peoples and cultures into their own systems. But they all collapsed, for one simple reason—no one wants to be ruled forever."

He flicked the ash from his cigarette. "What Tanaka said sounds beautiful. But in essence, it is still conquest and plunder, just wrapped in a prettier package. And conquest and plunder will ultimately provoke resistance."

Matsumoto fell silent. He had not expected Yoshida to say something so "treasonous."

"Then why..." he hesitated, "why keep going?"

"Because it can't stop." Yoshida gave a bitter smile. "It's like a carriage going downhill, going faster and faster, and the driver has already lost control. The army wants to prove it's stronger than the navy, the politicians want to win votes, the zaibatsu want to gain profit, the people need national pride... all these forces push the carriage forward, and whoever calls for it to stop will be crushed to death."

He stood up, walked to the window, and looked out at the pitch-black night sky.

"So we can only keep going. Keep fighting, keep dying, keep using our lives to accelerate that carriage. Until one day, the carriage crashes into a cliff and shatters to pieces."

He turned and looked at Matsumoto. "And you and I, and those new recruits outside, are all passengers on that carriage. All we can do is sit as steady as possible before the crash, and try not to be thrown out."

Matsumoto felt a chill. Not from the cool night breeze, but from the brutal truth those words revealed.

"Major," he asked quietly, "then do we... have hope?"

Yoshida looked at him for a long time. The cigarette burned between his fingers, its ember flickering in the darkness.

"Hope?" he said at last. "Hope is for the living. So, live. The longer you live, the greater the chance of seeing hope. Even if that hope is slim, even if that hope does not belong to our generation."

He tossed the cigarette butt out the window, and the spark traced an arc through the night before going out.

"Go to sleep, Matsumoto. We still have to train the new recruits tomorrow."

"Yes, Major."

Matsumoto saluted and turned to leave.

At the door, he looked back. Major Yoshida was still standing by the window, his silhouette looking especially lonely under the dim light.

Outside the window, the night wind of the Eastern European plains swept past with a howl.

Carrying the scent of blood, the scent of gunpowder, and the sighs of countless lost souls.

And the war went on.