Their cabin was rather small for a squad of twelve; it would be a squeeze to fit in.

“Karl, Hans, over here.”

It was Marx calling them, tapping a seat beside him. Karl and Hans shared a look, collectively shrugging before heading to the chair.

“Karl, come here.”

Steve stopped Karl, leaving Hans the only one with an unshared seat in the cabin. Though, Marx didn’t let that last long, scooting in the moment he noticed Karl wasn’t coming.

“Haa… Much better.”

A feminine voice retorted.

“Tsk… As if, why did they have to pair us with boys? There should be a girls’ section.”

The girl struggled with her rifle strap, trying to adjust it to a more comfortable position than her chest.

“Come on, Anna, Lizzy, and Tracy are girls too. I don’t see them complaining.”

Anna ignored Marx, getting visibly frustrated with her, adjusting it more aggressively. Eventually, she pulled too much, swinging the butt of her rifle into Marx’s chest.

“Hey!”

“Cut it out, you two.”

Steven’s voice cut off any complaints Marx was about to give. The man was looking out one of their cabin's windows, his face tense as though waiting for something. Then there was an announcement.

“THE TRAIN IS NOW DEPARTING HAMBURG RURAL STATION, DESTINATION: KRUZ BORDER STATION. TRAVEL TIME, APPROXIMATELY 4 HOURS.”

Hans felt his stomach shift as the scene outside began to slowly change. The train was moving.

By the time he looked back at Steven, he was already sitting down on a collapsible chair at the very front of their cabin. Karl was standing beside him.

The man sighed, his gaze downcast. Then he began.

“How much do you know about the main situation at the northern front?”

Everyone raised their hands almost immediately.

“Yes, Private Lizzy?”

Steven tilted his head in her direction. The girl in question gave him a sloppy salute the moment she heard her name. Hans could only see her because she sat opposite him.

“Sir, remnants of the Reinland armed forces and allied civilian militias have occupied the city of Ruxfield. They’ve deeply entrenched the southern outskirts of the city, with numerous bunkers and heavily protected positions spread around the trenches. Ruxfield is critical in furthering the northern frontier of the Empire’s unification campaign. Our enemies are well aware of that. Though, it is only a matter of time before their feeble attempts crumble in the face of our great Empir—”

Steven stopped her with a raised palm.

“That’s enough, Lizzy.”

She blushed, scratching her head embarrassedly, before somehow giving an even worse salute than before.

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“Sir, yes, sir!”

Steven seemed not to mind though, as he continued.

“What about our side of it? Does anyone know that?”

There were fewer hands raised now.

“Private Karl.”

Karl gave him a sharp salute.

“Sir, I believe we are also entrenched too. The Empire will be waging a war of attrition for the time being, sir.”

Steven looked at him, nodding his head mechanically at the answer.

“Good, good. So what do you suppose our roles will be out there?”

Karl and Anna raised their hands this time. Steven gave her the go-ahead.

“Speak, Private Anna.”

She shifted her rifle strap to the edge of her shoulder, giving the senior private her best salute before answering.

“Sir, our main objectives are to bolster the trench defense, perform trench maintenance activities, provide support during trench raids, and if the situation gets dire, operate artillery. Sir.”

Hans saw Steven nod again, that cold mechanical nod of his. The man looked around the cabin, his eyes slowly going over each and every soldier in his squad. There was a bitter emotion in his eyes; they had a strange look Hans couldn’t quite put his finger on.

Steven raised his head to face them, his face tensed as though he’d reached the climax of a battle Hans couldn’t see.

And then, he sighed; disappointment had replaced the bitter emotion in his eyes. Though this time it wasn’t directed at any of them.

‘Weird.’

Steven finally spoke again, his voice carrying stilted enthusiasm.

“Well done, cadets! I can see you are all prepared to fight for the motherland, and for the Empire. We shall crush those filthy Reinlanders, and bury them in their flimsy trenches!”

He stood up, giving a perfect Empirian salute.

“For the Motherland! For the Emperor!”

The cadets, all charged up, stood even in their tight cabin.

“FOR THE MOTHERLAND! FOR THE EMPEROR!”

Immediately after they were done, Hans could hear the voice of what he assumed to be a senior private of a cabin close to them screaming.

“Are you going to let those cunts in the other cabin beat us! Come on, with me now. For the Motherland! For the Emperor!”

The cadets followed, even louder than Hans’s squad had been.

“FOR THE MOTHERLAND! FOR THE EMPEROR!!!”

And in doing so, started a chain reaction that spread to other cabins, leading to even louder salutes. It all eventually devolved into a competition of which cabin could make the most noise.

The other squads were in for tough competition though; after all, Hans had Marx in his cabin.

“Reinlanders, run!”

Marx started, almost immediately backed up by Karl.

“Reinlanders, fall!”

Hans couldn’t leave them hanging; besides, he knew this shanty quite well.

“For Kaiser Vanderwaal—”

“WE HEED YOUR CALL!”

The whole cabin erupted, causing a new chain reaction that followed pretty much the same path as the last one did. A screaming match.

However crass and terrible the shanties were, they helped improve the mood in the tight cabin. There were far fewer scrunched faces after a couple of songs; even Hans stopped taking his usual frantic glances out the window.

Lost in their merriment, no one even noticed when Steven stepped out of the cabin.

They didn’t spare much thought for him though, especially Hans. The boy was too busy snuggling into his little corner beside one of the windows.

He looked out through the misted glass pane.

It was almost dark out, so there was barely anything to be seen but the silhouettes of gentle rolling hills with the occasional light on some of them indicating a farmstead.

They were heading up north at the moment, so it wouldn’t be long before the terrain slowly became more rocky and the gentle slopes became sharper.

He looked back into the cabin.

The bulbs had been turned on by now, casting warm orange lights everywhere in the train. They also made a faint buzzing sound that felt just as warm as the light.

Marx stood directly under their cabin's bulb, dragging both Karl and Anna to sing another shanty. Hans smiled.

‘Luckily, he only has two hands; otherwise, he’d drag me too.’

The other members of the squad were chatting with each other. Some of the boys even decided now was the best time to try hitting on the girls.

It wasn’t only their cabin; the whole train had become much more lively. The senior privates would have toned it down normally, but none of them did anything.

The cabin felt warm, lively in a way that slowly melted Hans’s anxiety.

‘Maybe the trenches won’t be so bad.’

“It’s raining.”

Someone in their cabin said, making Hans turn back to the window. Drops of rain slowly slid down the glass pane.

‘I hope it doesn’t last long.’

Hans sighed before snuggling into his jacket. He kept watching the raindrops slide down the glass, as they rapidly increased in numbers and frequency. Even when it became impossible to distinguish one drop from another, he didn’t stop.

‘Less than four more hours.’

It wasn’t long before he fell asleep, to the warm buzzing of the bulb, the gentle rumbling of the train, and the cold torrent of rain running down his window.