The Second Month
With the cry for help having gone out, the military started looking to see who they could send to Sheen to help relieve the manpower shortages there. The first thought was initially to send men from the Raikh directly, but it was quickly pointed out that it would put an added strain on their manpower reserves, as they were planning to cycle out men in the west. With that in mind, a new plan was formulated. The combat ineffective units in Lussia would be merged into temporary amalgamated regiments and would be replaced with fresh reinforcements from the mainland, before then being sent to Sheen to act as additional labour there. Those who could then be reorganised properly would be sent down to Dunwik and the remainder would be kept in Sheen until they could be properly reconstituted or the need for extra bodies waned.
With this idea in mind, units which were not busy trying to combat the ongoing flooding due to the rains or tied down distributing rations and guarding food-stores were selected and put on combat rotation. It took the better part of a month, but they were cleared and sent west and when they were off-loaded, swapped for the ersatz regiments who were immediately taken to Sheen. Most of the regiments were not truly combat ineffective, as their lost members were not dead, but it was decided that as they had gone through the most fighting and sustained the most injuries, they would be used for this task.
Upon arrival in Sheen, the two regiments (and a Dunwikki division) were quickly broken up and set to work. Their morale improved significantly, as they suddenly found themselves free of mud and bullets and in a country which many of them had strong and good associations with. Unlike the men who had arrived before them, they found the work they were put to quite easy and good, though it was still physically taxing for them. By this point though, the conditions had improved. Several of the warehouses near the port had been converted into a temporary hospital, as the pier had quickly become too crowded for it to be safe. The local population having donated many of the screens, pots, beds, and pans, it was simply a matter of the doctors and medics training their helpers in how to administer medicine and first-aid and how to take temperatures and note down changes in conditions.
The water-sanitation efforts were bolstered too, with the new arrivals tripling the shifts they could work. With the pipes still busted, water trucks were sent to neighbourhoods at designated times to provide clean drinking water to locals unable to leave. This was done in an effort to fight back against the number of people showing up with dysentery and other camp diseases, though how effective it was could not be told at the time. At the very least though, they managed to clear most of the rubble from the streets and made them safe enough to walk, though notices were being constantly put up condemning buildings due to structural issues found by inspectors. It would be a long time before the city would be able to support its population fully again and so the evacuations continued.
Excerpts from the Diary of Niujiswardjan Lofaredja: Sheenish Holiday
The news that we were being relieved was received with good humour by the men, as we had not seen much rest since the siege and city fighting had begun. As we made our way through ruined streets and check-points, we were treated to forlorn looks of envy from our comrades, who had heard something we were not yet privy to. When I tried to ask them what they were about, I was met by chuckles and deflections. It appeared that our ignorance of our fortune was a cause for amusement, which made us ill at ease. The men seeing this seemed to take enjoyment from that and soon we were rushing with a bit more vigour towards the rear trenches and command lines, as we were certain to be informed of our fate there. As my Kregbandin met up with our Stafs and then our Stafs with our Sibja, it became clear that we were quite a bit undermanned. While my Hebiðman, a man by the name of Schmutz went to discuss things with our Urhebiðman, I went about asking after friends and colleagues. As it turned out, quite a few of them had been laid low by illness during the siege and more still were injured. The dead numbered a shocking hundred and five in the Sibja, which later gave context to why some Ezolanders were rolled in with us. As it turned out though, ours was the least badly hit.
When I got back to my unit, the Hebiðman had finished his conversation with the Urhebiðman and was now making his rounds amongst his subordinates. Due to our Kregsgaistas being down to a third of its normal strength, we were being withdrawn from the front and sent to Sheen. We were to be mixed up with some others and made into a full strength unit again, at least on paper, and we were to take on a mixed number as a result. Our old regimental numbers would be kept, with all the ill and injured being kept under those for administrative purposes. Someone asked if we would need to resew our patches but he was quickly assured that it was only a formality and that the merger would be temporary. With that said, the old man left us and continued on his rounds and we were left to contemplate our good fortune. It took a couple of days for the trucks to arrive to carry us to the coast and our waiting ship, so in the mean time we drank ourselves slightly silly with pilfered contraband and we played games with prisoners. For the private soldiers, fraternisation was deemed a non-risk, as we did not understand a word they said to us, though our officers and translators were told in no uncertain terms not to imitate us. By the time we finally departed, we were all able to fall sleep under the canvas cover of the transport and found the jostling of the uneven roads to be as bothersome as a cool breeze.
The trip back was uneventful, but upon arrival at the port we were met by a surprising sight. The Dunwikki who had fought alongside us early were back, but this time there were more of them. It seemed that with the war here wrapping up, they were being shipped home as well. Some basic greetings were exchanged, news too, and some goods, but we were otherwise on our best behaviour. The port we were in had truly been transformed, with battle damage repaired and ruins cleared out. The native population seemed to have been removed as well, as the stores all seemed to be closed or else manned by new settlers from the Raikh, which meant no rough treatment nor overly careless talk would be tolerated. Not having any desire to actually spend money, we waited in our groups for our boarding numbers to be called in a big terminal building. Each time a number went up, a group of a hundred or so would stand and make their way onto the ship. By the time we were called, a good quarter of the terminal had already been boarded. Stepping on the ship, we were hit by its immensity, much larger than any of the other troop transports used previously. We were unlucky, as while there were rooms, we instead were put into a large ballroom area which had been converted into a dormitory. Finding my bunk, I was quick to strip off and fall asleep, heedless of the fact that supper would be served in two hours.
...
The ship stopped shortly in the Westajlandin, but we were not allowed off. Instead, emergency supplies and rations were loaded on, taking up much of the free space we had used for such games as shuffleboard and balling. We still had plenty of area to relax in and for recreation left, but it was most likely due to the ship's full transport capacity being sacrificed so it could be loaded with more supplies and equipment. It was shocking to see what some areas looked like, with nothing but endless rows of boxes filled to the brim with powdered milk, iodine, and other such things. We found almost nothing in the way of war-fighting materials down there, instead it was more akin to a giant post-exchange on water. Periodically a marine would inspect the crates to make sure we had done nothing unforgiveable or stolen anything, but otherwise we were left to wander the glorious ship unimpeded.
While we had been informed of the disaster that had befallen Sheen and the efforts we were being sent to assist, the materials aboard the ship were unfathomably generous to our minds. The stories of Sheen as a collection of city-states had belied its population and the enormity of its need, as most of us did not know how much food the Raikh exported to the cities on a regular basis. Somewhat disturbed by how thoroughly well stocked the ship's holds were, we went up onto the deck and enjoyed the sun for the rest of the day. Some of the men aboard had found instruments and had started performing on-deck. It was a good afternoon and we were soon putting our new found worries out of our minds.
...
Coming into the Port of Sheen was a near religious experience. It was the dead of night, but we could see the city glowing before it crested the horizon. As we drew closer, the ambient glow and pin-pricks of light grew until the stars receded from view and all we could see was an unsightly orangeness in the sky. It was different from the red and orange sunsets we had been seeing lately, rather it was more like the glow of an electric street lamp. The city itself was imposing too, with its crew towers and halls soon being all we could see. The noise of the place was immense too, but we did not really notice until we were properly in the harbour itself. Once there, we were pulled into our moorings by tug boats and then securely fastened to the shore. Rather than off-loading the men, we were told not to get in the way. It soon became apparent why, as teams began expertly off-loading the ship's cargo and trucks whizzed it away to distribution centres and storehouses as soon as they were loaded. The process was concurrent with the ship being fuelled as well, giving a real sense of how quickly they needed everything to be done.
We were told to get below and to sleep, but I was unable to do much sleeping. Instead I found a seat near a window and watched the work being done. Though I somewhat regretted it the next morning, I can honestly say I have never seen anything quite as mesmerising as that before or since. They finished their work shortly after the sun had risen and no sooner had they cleared the ship were the soldiers woken up, given breakfast, and then told to disembark. We were soon being put to work, with me being assigned to act as a digger. With my new kit, I was soon stuck into the work of shifting rubble and recovering corpses. Whenever we found one, we were to attach a tag with the address of the lot we were working on and it would be taken away. Apparently large halls were being used for family members and friends to identify corpses. If we were lucky, we would find some picture or identifying document on the corpse and we were write the name down on the tag too. It was less clear what happened with those cases, but it was not really for us to think about.
...
Though it took a while, I started to enjoy coffee and its effects. It tasted like barley tea, but with a stronger bitterness and odd aroma and fruitiness too. Adding sugar to coffee was the style, and so I did take to that. As I was given to understand, milk was usually added as well, but due to the situation, we were not given any in our rations. It was not an entirely unpleasant experience and its energising properties were superior to that of the tea plant, which is often boiled and drunk at home. It was somewhat of a shock to us to hear that our beer rations were being wholly suspended due to the grain shortages, but it made sense and no one really grumbled. The idea of the whole crop failing due to excessive rains gave us all a hollow feeling inside, as quite a few of us either grew up on stories of the famines or were old enough to remember the last one. Seeing the multitudes that lived in Sheen, it became ever so increasingly clear why we could not be given our beer.
As such, we engaged ourselves in local customs and entertainment in our free time. One drink which I found myself quite fond of was a local cider called 'Scrumpy', which was still available for purchase at a reasonable price. I also took up an odd game called billiards as well, which is played by shooting a white ball into a set of multicoloured balls, some fully coloured and some only partially, and then trying to hit all of the multicoloured or fully coloured balls into these sockets. One must only try for one set though, as one's opponent goes for the other. Between billiards, coffee, and Scrumpy, I was finding myself quite at home and happy in my work there, as I knew that no matter how gruelling the labour might be, I would be able to fully relax with some friends and that I would be welcomed like a hero for my efforts.
