What can one man possibly do?... A business alternative history story.

Insider

Banned
Hey folks, I know it has been a while. I have new job, and last week I discovered that my predecesor had completely skiped her responsibilities concerning reporting during her notice period. So I WAS writing fiction last week, just not that sort I like the most. :D

And now back to the program.

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VOCE DI VEDETTA MORTA
C'è un corpo in poltiglia
Con crespe di faccia, affiorante
Sul lezzo dell'aria sbranata.
Frode la terra.


VOICE OF DEAD SENTRY by Clemente Rebora
There's a gutted body
with ripples of face, emerging
on the stench of the torn air.
The earth is fraud.
I'm mad, but I don't cry:
a matter of those who can and of the mud.
But man, if you can come back,
don't tell the war
to those who're not aware,
don't tell this, where man
and life still get on well together.
But clutch the woman
one night, after a whirlpool of kisses,
if you can come back;
whisper to her that nothing on earth
will redeem what’s lost
of us, the decayed men of here.
Squeeze her heart so to strangle her:
and whether she loves you, is for you
to understand later in life, or never.


***
Isonzo Front
28 of May 1917

The battlefield was shaking under artillery barrage. Italian side was throwing everything they got on Austrians. Guns were overturning tree stumps, sending rocky soil flying. Guns, howitzers, mortars, machine guns all joined the deluge of steel. They were soon joined by the next wave. One of flesh. The wave of man clad in green rose up from the ground and charged up hill urged by whistles and calls. A few fell as soon as they rose. Austrians also fired their cannons. The rate of fire was weak, anemic, but even that made terrible gaps in the ranks of the advancing men.

Soon k.u.k soldiers who survived the fire got out from their dugouts and bunkers as the barrage moved away, this time trying to lay waste of the any support trenches. Some machineguns also survived the artillery and started to fire, cutting down one soldier after the another. They were few however, not enough to cover wide front over which Italian attacked. They still advanced despite terrible losses. In one place a lucky shot by the mountain gun that Italians brought almost to their front trench made the gap between machine guns wider. Soldiers were rallied into the gap by their NCO. He didn’t joined the attack, as he somebody seen it and targeted him. This group of Italians almost reached the enemy trench, decimated by rifle fire, when machine gun turned on them. They fell for the ground. Some to cover themselves, some to never rise up again. Some crawled back. Some still tried to gain ground.

The machine guns turned away, as there were a plenty of better crops worth mowing. One of the soldiers started shouting encouragement to his mates. One of them rose up and threw his grenade. He was killed by rifle fire but the explosive was already primed, already in the air. It fell behind sandbags of the machine gun nest. For those lying on the ground next few seconds were the longest in the world. The grenade lagged, exploding once all hope was lost it would ever do. Unfortunately for the crew of the machine gun , they were so concentrated on repealing the attack that they failed to notice it.

Italians rose up from the ground and crossed the last hundred meters of the no man’s land. They fell on Austrian trench with fury. Shooting, hacking, stabbing. They overwhelmed their enemies. A wave of dirty green fighting against grey green. The rifleman who shouted encouragement had survived the fight with a hand wounded by knife. He once again takes the initiative, encouraging his troops to strike next machine gun nest. This time its crew, still pressed with head on assault, and facing fire from three sides, surrender. Ad hoc group rounds up KuK soldiers survivors and sends them unarmed with light escort to Italian trench together with the wounded. They are also sent there to call support and inform artillery, that this fortification is taken already. Meanwhile the Italian success focuses quite an attention of a the enemy. The squad is fired upon, from Austrian positions left and right along the front, and by cannon fire simulationesly. Nedlessly they fight on attacking next sections of the Austrian front line to support their comrades. Again the brave private is in the lead. Machine gun fires another series and he falls. His squad mates drag his body back to the trench.


***
Udine
Military Hospital
Two days later

Multitude of people were swarming in corridors of Udinese hospital. Doctors, nurses, soldiers, wounded, all seem to be just busy somewhere else. In all, together it created a flurry of brown, green and white. The crosses and ocasional fresh blood were only life colours in here. The smell of chloride was overpowering but underneath it hide a stench of death and dying. Despite effort of the hospital's stuff they couldn't prevent infections of the wounds, and once it took place, they could do little to stop it. The doctors operated almost rundaclock, catching sleep when they could on the cots next to the wounded. Others took care of those who survived the operation. On the far side of the hall one of the doctors did just that.
- Finaly you are awake, mr... Firavanti. How are we today?
- I guess I have been better. - the voice is weak
- bullet through shoulder. The bone cleanly cut, almost no shatters. You were lucky.
Before the patient had time to answer what he thinks about that sort of luck, a sudden comotion in the hall apears. A carabinieri officer and several of his soldiers enter the room. They are neatly dressed in pressed uniforms, cleanly shaved, and well fed. All things that frontline soldiers weren't. Doctors ignored them so far thinking that they are visiting some less lucky comerade. They take one of the wounded an proceed to force him up, tearing his bandages as he resisted.
- What in the bloddy hell you think you are doing! - doctor stood up and protest
- We do our duty - one of the soldiers answers
- This man is a coward. - officer cuts over - we take him to be senteced and shot.
- what? This is ridiculus, he was brought here from the front line.
- the documents say that he is a guilty of cowardiance. If he is innocent, I am sure that he would be cleared.
- You cannot just take him..
- we can't? Are you harboring deserters and cowards... doctor? - the officer seemed to split up the last word.
- Prepostrous... maybe not all in this hall are heroes, but...
- There are no but's ... how this one - officer points to the next bed
- He got struck by splinters and lost a leg before even going over the top
- And that one? - officers point to Firavanti
- I don't know... dr. Lauda operated him.
- Let's take a look. Entry wound in the back, exit wound in the front. Even a child could say that this one is a coward.
- He cannot walk on his own yet...
- Then he isn't going anywere, we will come back for him tomorrow.
***​
Two weeks later
Military prison
The cell was cold. Utterly cold. Or did his wound had gave him fever again. He heard steps. Firm, hard. Not the prison guard, that one was a lazy chap. They grew near, and he heard a keys ringing. The steel door opened and a stark looking soldier appered
- Giovanni Firavanti?
- You are early, I am to be shot tommorow.
- This is serious. Are you Giovanni Firavanti?
- Yes. Yes I am.
- Take your things and walk with me.
***

The young officer he spoke with was wearing uniform ensing. He let out a silent greeting and started immediately official business. It was clear that the didn't like the task he was up to, and would prefered to be anywere else
- Your case has been resumed as new evidence arrived. It appears that there have been a mistake. Your commander testified that you take the lead of the group of the rifleman and made good account in...
- I told you this like dozen times!
The man continue to read, unfazed by outburst.
- Since you could be under fire from both sides, your wounds are well justified and all charges against you have been dismissed- the man proceeded almost with disintrest.
- Regio Esertico, the king, and Italian nation are pleased with your deeds and present you wit h order of military valour in bronze and promotion to corporal.
- you... what? Is that means that I am free to go?
- Yes, you are free to return to your unit and serve again in your best capacity.​

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________

A pinch of bureaucratic horror to get rid of what I have been through :D
 

perfectgeneral

Donor
Monthly Donor
Promoted instead of an apology as they plan to continue making the same rash assumptions about cowardice. :rolleyes:
Although he clearly shows some leadership quality, this is not why he was promoted.
 

Insider

Banned
Promoted instead of an apology as they plan to continue making the same rash assumptions about cowardice. :rolleyes:
Although he clearly shows some leadership quality, this is not why he was promoted.

Apology would mean that somebody in the army made mistake. If the word about mistake would ever get out it would undermine morale. Moreover every hierachical system admiting mistake tend to be avoided. It often takes years before somebody says "yes, we screwed up that one" and it often happens when person in question is retired.
 

Insider

Banned
Update!
Comments?

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Cadorna! This name fills me with bile. How in bloody hell that incompetent fool got to lead something greater than a rear guard platoon is beyond me. He battered Italian armies over the same stretch of land, throwing them on the well prepared positions over and over again. He acted like a retard banging his head against the wall, who repeats his actions with hope that the wall would give in. A mad man, or a coldblooded careerist fearing about his post. The history seems to back my point. Despite being (self-styled) military genius, he continued to use obsolete tactics against Austrians, who did learned hard lessons about the modern war during their failed invasion on Serbia. They say that he used Napoleonic tactics.. Fools! Had he have been half as gifted as Napoleon, we would have been in Vienna before I even took the rifle. The only way he did devised for achieving the breakthrough was simply amassing more troops and guns and hope that it would be enough to flood the enemy. over Even if it was successful, each such attack failed when our riflemen walked out from the zone our guns could support them, and the Austrians pulled their reserves to plug the holes. Of course the bunch of his boot-licking sycophants he called his staff would never come up with viable plans for relocating artillery.

Even today, fifty years after the war, there are people who are defending him. They say that I have betrayed my oath of a soldier by such attacks of former supreme commander
I ask them, go to the Isonzo Valley, and ask those he send to their deaths about honour. The silence of a thousand graves would be your answer.

Giovanni Firavanti
Flight of the Icarus.

***


The offensive was dying down. There was no reason to lie about it. After an initial string of successes, the Austrians had launched a counter attack and pushed us back. These thoughts plagued Andrea de Berbino when he was making his way thought the blasted landscape. Artillery scarred the hills, turning rocks that resisted erosion for eons into rubble. To be true he shouldn’t be here. Had one asked common solder about it, everyone would say that no man should be here. Of course nobody ever asked privates where they should be. He however deemed himself above common soldier. As a noble and a learned man, when the war started, he expected to be an officer, but his family proved to be too poor to put him in military academy however. His family name no longer managed to open as many doors. He managed to get rather good post as a signalist thanks to his math skills.
This day has turned bad to worse when his commander came looking for volunteers. Since the advance moved the front away from their post, keeping the frontline units up to date was impossible by telephones, forcing them to use runners and bicycle messengers. However since the Austrian counteroffensive put a stop in Regio Esertico advance the frontlines become blurry. Soldiers were grouped in mix and match units lacking cohesion and morale. There were Austro-Hungarian holdouts from the times of Italian advance – or were they KuK army units that advanced too far during counteroffensive? He didn’t want to learn it. Since the start of offensive they have lost two dozen couriers. Some of them died in artillery barrage, bullets found others. But the number of those whose fate was known, was lesser then those who simply went missing. Taken prisoner? Split apart by artillery shell? Or maybe tortured slowly in gruesome way? The mystery allowed his imagination to roam freely and invent worst fates possible. Of course he was armed, but what he could possibly with a revolver against the whole army?

He checked his “map”. A hand drawn on piece of paper really. No way he could take the original one, his post had only one. He saw a glint of light among the rubble in the east. He ducked immediately. He weight his chances for a second or two…
- “Nostri !!” - He yelled with all his lungs. He raised up slowly. Out of the rubble a soldier appeared. His rifle was pointed at Berbino but at least he wasn’t trigger-happy. A minute later he was led via shallow rudimentary trench. Most of the men he passed by were sleeping, stirring uncomfortably as he passed. All look dirty and weary.
- Fifth battalion? – He asked the soldier leading him.
- What was left of it. – this answer chilled de Berbino to the bone. Had he came through all of this just to learn that unit he had orders for is no longer capable of operating?
The guard led him to command post, protected from elements only by small piece of tarpaulin.
- Major Caruso? - Andrea asked, as the officer was restng in shadow. He extended a hand holding orders wrapped in a sealed envelope.
- Wounded. My men carried him to the hospital... - the officer spoke.
- I am sure that he would be fine. - de Berbino
- with splinters in stomach... - sergeant who was cooking water on a small fire nearby added. Such bluntness was rare... dangerously rare in Regio Esertico. Officer gave him a tired look but ignored the intrusion.
- Oh... I ... I guess that you are in command here now Sir? – de Berbino asked the officer
- I guess so - officer took the envelope... he read the contents and cursed.
- Firavanti! Get the men ready. We moving out in ... fifteen minutes.
- Sir?
- A battalion of Arditi is surrounded five kilometers to north east from here... We are ordered to help them.
Sergant rushed to rouse man. De Berbino heard only distant conversation
- We are going to rescue Arditi! - Sergant sounded almost giddy.
- Italian best?
- That's correct Sabatini ... and if we rescue them, what it would make us?

***


How I got to know Firavanti? He jumped to my trench, and offered me his canteen full of water. After two days spent in a shell crater without a drop of water I was ready to sell my soul for it.
Ettore Muti, during his trial.
 
Going all the way back to the beginning: an automobile in 1895? That's very early to be charitable. Even trailblazers like Frank Duryea had just begun then. I think you'll need a different trigger for a butterfly effect: perhaps an encounter with an electric streetcar or a cable car. Manhattan still had both then.
 

Insider

Banned
the horse that was part of the POD was startled by seeing one of the first automobiles. They were noisy by design, so it is easy to imagine that a horse could be startled by one. Yes they were rare by 1895 but they existed. To be fair if that was the first car that horse have ever seen, that would make his nervous state even more plausible. Especialy if it there was almost a colision. (these cars had generaly poor driving characteristics)
autos3055.jpg
 
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