After a long silence, a man raised his hand.
"I did, sir. Sergeant Wagner."
The crowd parted as a large man stepped forward.
His face was hard, his eyes were like slits.
This was a man who lived and breathed combat.
A man Alexander remembered from the flies.
He had killed an imperial stormtrooper (shock troops armed with a blunderbuss) with his bare hands, crushing his skull against the pavement.
He was unceremoniously discharged after killing surrendering soldiers during the counteroffensive.
Reports said even Amburian soldiers were weary of him.
Alexander stepped to the man without hesitation.
"You got a problem with my leadership, Wagner?"
Alexander's voice was low, cold.
Wagner grinned, unfazed.
His gaze was cold and assessing.
"Sir," he said mockingly, "I've seen boys get lucky. They get brave, they get stupid, and then die. You remind me a lot of those boys. It's no coincidence you go on to promote those like you."
He gestured dismissively toward Erich, who stood frozen.
"You think when it comes down to it, he can kill a man in the chaos of battle? Or will he freeze up, and get slaughtered?"
He looked up, scanning the crowd until his gaze stopped on Reinhardt.
"Or that one, yeah… he'll die real quick. And it'll be because of you, that's what happens when confidence isn't earned. You crumble under the pressure."
He turned his gaze on Alexander.
"So you asked me if I had a problem? I see three, you do the math."
Klaus tightened his hands at his sides.
Wagner wasn't just looking at the 'boys', he was looking at the man leading them.
A direct challenge.
And one Alexander had no intention of falling.
"You think I promote on a whim? That I'm playing favorites?"
Alexander's voice stayed scarily calm as he stepped closer.
"We don't have time to do things traditionally, so if I see something I like I promote it. Not because I'm playing favorites. But if you're good at something, I will use you for it."
He pressed a finger into Wagner's chest.
"And you know what you're good at? Killing. I've read your file, you're not a soldier, you're a monster."
Wagers chuckled.
"Careful, you might contradict yourself, sir."
Alexander cracked a smirk.
"No, I'm saying I like your style, Wagner."
Everyone, even Wagner, widened their eyes in surprise.
Alexander laughed, stepping back.
"I want my riflemen to be KILLERS. I want them as heartless, brutal, and broken as you are."
He extended his arms wide.
"Can you do that, sergeant?"
Wagner let out a harsh laugh, cutting through the stunned silence.
He looked Alexander up and down, his mockery was gone.
Replaced with a growing respect.
"Oh, I'm starting to like you, sir! Maybe I was wrong… but I gotta ask."
He leaned close, lowering his voice to a whisper.
"You sure you want a hundred men like me?"
Alexander shook his head.
"No, I want thousands."
Wagner grunted an affirming sound, his grin growing unnaturally wide as his eyes burned with fire.
"Fine, but don't complain when they grow teeth."
Alexander nodded, turning to face the rest of his men.
"And for the rest of you! If you feel like you deserve a rank, then show me something worth promoting! I want the best of the best! I want marines! Our big blue style can not be defeated!"
The men didn't know what to do, but they felt something shift.
Something big.
Alexander raised a hand in the air.
"Raise your rifle and repeat after me!"
The men raised their rifles high.
"Warrior is my breed!"
"Warrior is my breed!"
"Warfare is my creed!"
"Warfare is my creed!"
"Victory is my duty!"
"Victory is my duty!"
Alexander threw his hand down, clenching his jaw.
The chant settled over the recruits, their nervousness replaced with an electric fire.
Klaus and Hans exchanged unreadable glances.
Alexander's leadership style was making itself known, he didn't pick favorites…
…he picked the best.
Alexander looked over his shoulder at Wagner.
"Sergeant Wagner!" He called.
Wagner snapped to a salute, his grin still fixed.
"You're our new CQC instructor, you'll work with Klaus."
"Yes sir!"
Alexander marched up to Erich and Hans.
"You two, find nine others who can shoot like you, as close as you can get. They'll form our sniper squad."
The men saluted.
"Sir!"
Alexander marched off the parade grounds, "Resume your training, I'm gonna get us some more ammunition."
— — —
The next two months were grueling.
Mornings belonged to Klaus.
It was endless drills, physical conditioning, and obstacle courses.
He forged the men into a disciplined mass that moved as one.
Afternoons were split, and Hans and Wagner took their respective units and trained them.
Hans had a squad of 15 men, including Erich as their squad leader.
Elodie acted as the unit's secondary instructor.
She and Hans taught the men ballistics, windage, and breathing techniques.
They took it as slowly as they could given the time constraints.
But due to the complexity of the process, only the scholars excelled.
Once they were hitting targets at 300 meters comfortably, the targets were moved back further and further.
Until they were taking shots at targets from 800 meters.
And Hitting.
On the flip side, Wagner ran the other Marines into the dirt.
Literally.
They drilled on live fire exercises and sparring, but bayonet drills were their bread and butter.
They used blunt sticks that left an aching bruise, and any man who dropped from the pain…
…had to deal with Wagner personally.
And Reinhardt got the worst of it.
"Look at our little corporal!" He'd shout, kicking the boy over and pressing his boat against his head. "He can't handle a little pain, that's a damn shame…"
Reinhardt would try and fight back, only to be kicked again, and again.
Until one day, Reinhardt snapped.
During a bayonet drill, Wagner went to bully him as usual.
But this time, he was ready.
He swung his stick back at Wagner, catching him off guard and smashing into his stomach.
Then with a guttural scream, he charged Wagner into the dirt, punching him.
"I AM NOT YOUR FUCKING CHILD!"
The men watched in shock, expecting the worst.
But Wagner only laughed as he caught the second punch.
"FINALLY!"
He tossed Reinhardt off him, pinning him to the ground by the neck.
"Maybe you aren't a weakling after all."
He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper.
"But you aren't a man either, not until I say so."
He stood up, tossing Reinhardt aside.
"GET BACK TO WORK, NOW! OR I'LL FIND MYSELF A NEW TARGET!"
The tension dissipated immediately.
Replaced with determined soldiers practicing their drills with gritted teeth.
"Sir!"
Alexander watched it all unfold with a grin.
Everything was coming together.