“Ray-Ray. Want some of my salad? I’m full.”
“Don’t go wasting what little food we have. We’re on rations remember.”
There was a problem going on in a city near the French Border, next to Germany. As much as the main territory of France was under the influence of the Allied Powers, there were still some places that were in danger of being over-taken by the Central Powers. With the all Allied forces spread thin across Bulgaria, Arabian Desert, and not to mention the African continent, the Germans and their organized cohorts were pushing head strong into various territory across the European Theatre.
Namely, they were trying to lay siege onto a half-empty city that was sitting right near the France Germany border. It held no economical value, it was already ransacked of its treasures and original food supplies in the initial invasion at the start of 1914. It’s in ruins, only half of the city survived the never ending rain of artillery shell from German Guns.
But should the enemy acquire this location, they could easily set up an effective Anti-Air defense point. This would impede all Allied Air Forces from conducting their final operations in an massive upcoming air assault. Their planes and bombers would be in danger should the town be turned into a living city of machine guns designed to shoot down British Sopwith Camels, American Curtis 18s, Italian Caproni CA.20 bombers, and even the Allied French Nieuport 28s.
"Sleipnir. Eat your cheese. You need all the protein you can get. Plus, it fills your stomach more than bread and water. The body needs every ounce of calories to run in a long-term battle like this, so eat up."
"...Th...this may be a bad time to confess, Ray-Ray, but... even if I'm Canadian, I'm lactose intolerant."
"Don't mind if I do."
"Heh!? A-at least console me before you up and take my cheese wedges!....... Sob."
There was a platoon of soldiers and pilots who were stationed at the outer edges of the ruined city near the French-German Border. They were there to defend another major location to prevent Allies from easily marching on soil owned by the German Empire. However, this narrator say platoon but it really was no more than several small rifle squads and a maximum of 12 German pilots with five part-time mechanics. The war has stretched all sides thing, every able man and talented sniper were deployed across the Trenches in Sommes, Passchaendaele, Vimy Ridge, Cambrai, and so on. So to conserve on energy and resources, they just relied on German batteries to hit the ruined city from afar.
Holding their positions inside of said ruined city, hiding from the howling Artillery Guns, was a certain Canadian Pilot and a certain Canadian Witch. They were hiding inside of a Royal French Hospital. The situation they had been facing, was far worse than the enemy surrounding them right outside of the city gates.
“I really don’t want to complain and all, Ray-Ray. But eating greens won’t do. We still need the necessary protein in order to fuel our bodies, and to improve the healing of muscular tissues. There are even some witches who rely on raw meat to fuel their magical energy or use as resource in a ritual to summon tactical zombies. If we don’t have any meat, we’ll only get malnourished!”
“I’ve went through all the supplies, theres isn't even so much as processed canned meat available. Our rations are all the dehydrated type so that alone isn't going to help. Even I’m getting tired or eating raw vegetables dug out from the backyard, but the enemy is right outside. They’ve already got snipers out inside the woods. We’ve lost two men just because they were smoking out in the night.”
“I don’t smoke, so I should be safe.”
“Even in the dark, with how exposed your white skin is, they’ll spot you out like a dove in a jungle.”
“S-so rude. M-my breasts are too big!?”
“That’s not what I’m trying to say!”
The Canadian Witch who wore a dress made of 1000 raven feathers, hugged her proud chest defensively. The Canadian Pilot on the other hand, ignored her emberassing gesture and continued to pick out the carrots from his canned sautéed salmon with grilled onions and peas. He would feel bad if he tossed the pieces of carrots onto the ground, he didn't want the rats to choke and die. That would be cruel.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
“Eat your fish, Ray-Ray. It has lots of omega-three and other vitamins to make your brain smarter.”
“This is military rations meant to live through 10 years while dibbed in questionable food preservants. Do you really think the army would go out of their way in putting fresh pacific salmon or rainbow trout into ration cans?”
“…. I’m sorry. I didn’t know better.”
“I agree, but there’s no need to cry.”
The Canadian Witch could be found sobbing (fake tears) at one of the tables in the empty hospital cafeteria. They were not the only one who were in hiding from the Imperial German blockade. There were also a mixture of different units from various nations such as the British Royal Regiment, the Scottish Argyll and Sutherland Highlands, Australia Mounted Division, American 17th Field Artillery Division, even parts of the 1st Canadian Mechnanized Brigade Corp were presently taking cover in the medicine room and cleaning supply closets.
Sitting with these soldiers, were also another group of specialized operatives. This would be members from the Canadian Witch Corp, the British Magic Division, and even the American Warlock Chamber. Magic existed, but it had to be kept a secret from the world. Even from the fighting soldiers of the military. Only designated officers of high rank of various department would be aware of their true identity, and are bound to support them in fighting non-magic combatants as the magic specialists deal with enemy magicians.
In order to avoid suspicion as to their true identity, many of these Witches and Magicians would pose as army nurses, nuns, chaplains, to even a regular rifleman if needed. Their job was to focus on anti-magic countermeasure from enemy spellcasters and keeping track of their own magical intelligence network.
The Canadian Witch who was playing around with her bowl of salad was one of those important people.
“At this rate, the Krauts will kill us off not by execution of a bullet to the head. But from meat cravings and malnutrition. We need to do something fast or else they charge in and find us nothing but skin and bones!”
“Monks in Tibet already have survived years of solitutde and lived off of nothing but the vegeation grown in the Himalyas and Goat milk. We should follow their example and focus on planning a counter offensive.”
“Even if you say that, every single soldier and witch in this hospital have all relied on meat to grow! To suddenly not have any source of the food group would be no different than forcing someone to stop smoking. They’ll be affected from cold turkey and fail to operate at 100% capacity!”
“The h*ll does frozen turkey have to do with this?”
“Guh!? D-don’t tell me this era doesn’t recognized that word!?”
For those of you who are curious, going cold turkey meant to abstain from the drug or tobacco without any other medical aid. In order words, you throw out the box of cigars and endure the cravings like a man - or roll on the ground kicking and screaming.
“This still isn’t helping with how we should break the Imperial German siege. The only reason why they’re not attacking us right off the bat is the fact they don’t know our true numbers. They still think we out number them, they’re too scared to sacrifice what little soldiers they have left in case of an ambush.”
“Right. If it weren’t for several witches who specialize in Illusions and Hallucination curses, they wouldn’t believe the fact we only have 150 people total, and not 2500 holograms. But again, they used up the last of their energy to cast that 10th Level Spell to trick the enemy. They still need meat source to refill their diet!”
“…Does canned salmon work?”
“If we’re lucky, they won’t vomit it out as if they have morning sicknes.”
“That bad huh?”
“I hate to say it, but being a witch requires following exact rules to function with magic. No exeptions are allowed, or else our blood vessels will burst.”
“Hmm. I never knew that magic could be this inconvenient.”
"Apologize to my pride, Raymond Collishaw."
The Canadian Pilot gave an off handed 'hmm' again, completely ignoring the Canadian Witch's clenching fist. Even if magic did exist to help with the war effort, the price to properly use it was a complete pain in the @ss. So many rules and regulations, not to mention the unspoken techniques for different schools of the mystic. Obviously, no one in the Canaian Witch Corp could up and use their powers to summon loaves of bread or fresh fishes – that’s a God-class Miracle Spell in itself. Not even the Archwizards supporting the Vatican could replicate such an important spell. So there was still that issue of an imbalanced nutrition, and the morale of the troops. The scales in this situation were lower than average.
“Sigh. This is so depressing Ray-Ray. It’s to the point where I can’t even hear the drumming of the Kraut artillery that’s trying to smoke us out.”
“If I’m not mistaken, I think they’re on their dinner rotation now.”
“Hmm. Dinner. Wonder what they’re having.”
“I guess potatoe soup, potatoe pancakes, potatoe waffles, potato roast, and sauerkraut. Since they’re outside of the city walls, no doubt they have access to wild game. Lucky them”
“......................................................................................................."
"...Sleipnir. I don't like how wide your smile is right now. S-stop it, i-it's even creepier than a clown."
"Heeeeeey. Ray-Raaaaay. It's such a lovely night today... Why don't we go on a stroll and have a date?"
"Guwoooh! S-Sleipnir, halt! D-don't grab my belt and drag me out of the door! Th-the other soldiers will misunderstand me! I-I'm Canadian, I-I don't want to ruin the image of my country!"
On that cold and lonely night, a miracle had appeared. It came in the form of a single all black triplane Sopwith Camel that flew over the small enemy siege of several squads, 12 pilots, and five engineers. The craft dropped something, not a bomb, but a devastating beast.
The final reports of this event were unclear, some aspects of the debriefing were difficult to translate from German to English. To summarize, the Imperial Germans swore that a beautiful woman dropped into their camp - and transformed into a tyrant werewolf... and it wasn't even the full moon. The collatoral damage that night consisted of their tents being smashed apart, their officer rations and frehsly caught game meat stolen, and several German Soldiers with more than black eyes.
... The commanding German Officer who reported this, was automatically transferred to the Russian Front.
“Come on Sleipnir, we got the meat, their ammunition, and you gave them a beating, We have to--WHY THE H*LL ARE YOU NAKED!?"
"Geh! M-my Wild Shape Spell lost it's effectivenes from the lack of proteins in my body! An-and my dress won't recover until I eat... TH-THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT RAYMOND COLLISHAW!"
"D-DON'T BLAME OTHERS WHO CAN'T UNDERSTAND MAGIC! J-JUST GRAB THE MEAT AND RUN BACK TO THE HOSPITAL!"
"THAT'S TOO MUCH FOR A GIRL!"
The Allied Forces celebrated this... sudden victory, with the game meat the Imperial Germans had caught. What ho.