On July 12th, 917, in the camp of the Kazarlia First Front Army, the First Battalion of the Melania People's Army First Division.
Lieutenant Henry Scaritz of the Melianians is reading a newspaper.
"Any news?"
Master Sergeant Raskid lounges lazily on a makeshift sofa in the room, watching Henry.
"The Anteans launched a surprise attack across the marshlands. They're close to encircling the Northern Army Group of the Prosens between the sea and the swamps. The Prosens are massively shifting troops from the southern frontline to reinforce the north," said Henry.
"Indeed, just yesterday Charlie's infiltration recon squad caught a tongue," said Raskid, "The prisoner said troops are being heavily moved northwards."
Henry sets the newspaper down, stands up, and walks to the window.
The wooden hut they occupy has a window facing west. On clear days, they can see directly to the other side of the barbed wire-laden blockade line.
