I Became the Last Princess of the Brown Bear Kingdom

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“How’s our tank situation?”

I ordered to start producing tanks.

If those Reds really muster up a force of five million, we have to deal with it through quality, right?

So we also received support for fighter aircraft.

Where do the resources and money come from, you ask?

They come from the great powers supporting us to eliminate the Bolsheviks.

I heard the Germans are particularly proactive in helping, so the tank development seems to be going smoothly.

“Yes. Our tanks are being produced, but they’re not ready for combat at the moment.”

“Hmm. That’s unfortunate.”

“However, with the tanks from Britain, France, and Germany, taking down the Bolsheviks shouldn’t be too difficult. We’ve already sent some tanks to Baron Beria.”

Baron Pyotr Wrangel.

I originally promoted him to the Western Commander, but he’s more often referred to as the Black Baron.

It’s definitely more convenient to refer to him that way.

“That’s good to hear. How about sending some to the Ukrainian front as well?”

“There’s already a German and French volunteer corps over there.”

So, the German and French volunteer corps.

I suspect that’s just a Belarusian division that speaks German and French well enough.

If we’re short on numbers, we have to push through with quality.

It’s best to deploy tanks and planes as soon as they’re ready.

Since World War I ended prematurely, the supplies are overflowing.

“We need to advance towards Moscow as soon as the Ukrainian front is wrapped up.”

“Yes. And General Ungern said he wants to take down the Reds himself. What should we do about that? I hear he’s greatly expanded the Asian Cavalry Division.”

That guy?

He’s more passionate than I expected. But how many cavalry can he possibly muster? A few thousand at most, right?

And aren’t they weaker than the Cossacks?

“Hmm. Would you compare them to the Cossacks, who are the Tsar’s sword? Still, it takes courage. If there’s no threat from China, tell him to head to Ukraine.”

“Yes.”

But is this really okay?

I’ve been thinking about it for a while now; I’m still, on paper, 18 years old.

These people are listening to everything coming from an 18-year-old’s mouth.

No matter how royalist they are, they can’t entrust everything to the Tsar’s daughter, a young girl.

Kolchak seems to be working hard too.

But if the White Army government is running because of me, isn’t that saying something?

Of course, it’s convenient since the Duma members do what I say, but—

Bang!

What’s all that noise outside?

“You can’t do this!”
“Get out of the way!”
“Who the hell is making such a ruckus?”

Bang

Who on earth barges in like that?

The Bolsheviks—no, from the uniform, it doesn’t seem like them.

“Excuse me, Your Highness.”

I recognize that face; it’s familiar, and the uniform looks like an American military one.

Who on earth barged in here?

Is it because he dislikes the Russian army?

No matter how I look, I’m technically a princess now—this is a bit much.

Thinking they have the upper hand just because they’re here or something.

“Who are you?”

“I am George S. Patton, the military attaché.”

“And?”

“Give me an opportunity! I will take my American volunteers and smash those Reds!”

Is this George S. Patton as we know him?

Why does he feel so refreshingly different?

But apart from that, the U.S. is in a position of playing the wallet right now.

What’s he thinking, coming here as a military attaché?

There are American soldiers here to aid in supplies, but the United States hasn’t actually sent volunteer troops.

They’re not sent as combat troops, I mean.

“What’s this guy saying about safety?!”

Mikhail Drozdovsky tried to pull Patton down, but I raised my hand to stop him.

It’s Patton. He came looking for me to deal with the Reds, so I ought to at least hear him out.

“I want to hear your reasoning.”

“What about the Germans? How can I sit still when they are participating in combat after losing the war?”

That’s Anton Denikin’s jurisdiction, right? Did he sprint here because he couldn’t stand what’s happening? It’s technically Southern Russia over there.

But isn’t it dangerous if this guy goes wild and ends up getting himself killed?

“We appreciate the United States supporting us, but isn’t this a bit reckless? Has this been approved by your home country?”

At my question, Patton pulled a chair in front of him and sat down.

“Our esteemed President sent me to Russia to prevent the revolutionary war caused by the Bolsheviks.”

Wilson?

Woodrow Wilson actually argued for leniency towards Germany in history.

That was all to prevent the resurgence of war. The Young and the French suffered massive damage and even wound up imposing hefty reparations on Germany, which eventually led to the conditions for World War II.

With the Young and the French now turning to ‘let’s watch and see’ in response to the Bolsheviks, perhaps Wilson’s leniency found relevance here.

I don’t know the current situation in the U.S. but it appears Wilson now supports the White Army to prevent a new war caused by the Bolsheviks.

What Patton said isn’t entirely wrong.

Patton is known as a fighter and a troublemaker.

From the American perspective, it seems like they wanted to send an unruly fighter to keep an eye on Russia while serving as a military attaché.

“Patton, you’re not supposed to be stopping anyone, right? You’re just here as a military attaché to report the situation in Russia back home, right?”

“That’s the same thing! Isn’t it?”

Why the hell are you asking me?

What about World War II or something like that?

You should have stepped up during that time.

Wait, with my existence, isn’t World War II going to twist in strange ways as well?

In that case—

“Will you still not blame us even if we die?”

“I won’t die. If you don’t include me, I’ll blame my princess forever.”

That guy’s eyes are positively wild.

Is he really like this normally?

Since he wants to, there’s no need to stop him.

“Alright. But there are conditions. The Reds are conscripting people claiming we’re traitors because they’ve brought in foreign troops. So, if you want to participate in the battle, you’ll need to wear a Russian military uniform.”

“You want me, an American soldier, to disguise myself as Russian?”

“If you don’t want to, then I can’t allow you to come. Feel free to hold a grudge against this young girl all you want.”

What can he do if he says he doesn’t want to? That’s the thing.

It looks like he’s dying to catch some Reds.

If that’s the case, he needs to follow along.

“If you want to fight freely, you must listen to us.”

“Hmm. I can’t speak Russian.”

“With such confidence, you would think the Reds would be the first to proclaim that a princess has brought in foreign troops! Are you not confident enough to wipe them all out before they spread their propaganda?”

If not, I can’t allow you.

Peter Wrangel is pressing forward, and once the Ukrainian front is wrapped up, I plan to hit them from the flank and below, not a scratch must be taken.

“How could I possibly fail?”

I thought he might pull that off.

Well, considering the career of George S. Patton in World War I, perhaps there’s hope.

“I understand. I will inform the military, so feel free to go wild.”

“Haha! Finally, I can take down those Bolshevik bastards!”

Patton bolted out the door like a child receiving a long-desired toy.

It all happened so fast.

So where are the volunteers, anyway? Will he figure it out himself?

Screw it. Let him handle it.

If it’s going to be uncontrollable, I might as well let him rampage.

* * *

Ukraine

In Ukraine, alongside the British stationed troops, there were also German, French, and unidentified American soldiers who participated as volunteers for Russia.

Of course, all of them donned Russian Imperial uniforms to prevent being used as propaganda by the Bolsheviks, and one man watching the Russian troops chattering in various languages found it absurd.

“Well, I never thought I’d see this in my life.”

Roman von Ungern-Sternberg, leading the Asian Cavalry Division, laughed heartily at the German, English, and French he could hear.

While he did consider cooperating with Anton Denikin to sweep away the Bolsheviks in Ukraine, wasn’t this truly a multinational force?

Gregory Semenov kept droning on about how the current Russia had inherited the Mongol Empire and needed to advance into China, which was a pretty rare sight to behold.

Most importantly, among them, the German troops were technically the enemy.

Then Ungern stared at the troops he had brought.

The Asian Cavalry Division.

Unlike in actual history, as the White Army established a stable foothold, Ungern was able to significantly grow the Asian Cavalry Division.

Existing Russians, Buryats, Tatars, Bashkirs, Mongols, Chinese, Manchurians, and Poles. It was truly a multinational army, and even troops that had recently joined from Mongolia and Koreans fleeing from the Japanese had swollen their ranks to an impressive five thousand.

If you counted in Semenov’s troops left to guard Mongolia, that was a significant increase compared to actual history.

Although it was a ragtag group, they had swiftly conquered Mongolia, and it was a veteran force that occasionally repelled Chinese troops trying to invade Mongolia.

Most importantly, the soldiers of the Cavalry Division were all united by Ungern’s strong valor and remarkable horsemanship, making their nationalities meaningless.

“By the way, I heard those Bolsheviks are advancing towards Kyiv, right?”

For a bunch of rootless Reds, I briefly thought I might acknowledge their vigor, but hearing their strategy didn’t inspire much fear.

I’ve heard that the Bolsheviks, while numerous, were lacking in battle prowess.

According to the retreating British troops, they only retreated because the Reds were overwhelming them with their numbers until their bullets ran out.

Clearly, the Bolshevik strategy was straightforward.

Short on supplies, many of them weren’t armed with guns, and those without guns would charge at the enemy only to snatch the guns of fallen comrades to charge again. And when they fell, the person behind them would grab the gun.

Isn’t that ignorant and barbaric?

Ungern was certain that those Bolsheviks were much more ignorant and barbaric than his Asian Cavalry Division.

So—

Wouldn’t it be possible to poke those Bolsheviks from the rear?

Even if they had numbers, if we sneak in from the side, it would throw them into chaos, and if Anton Denikin’s Southern Russian White Army were to attack from the front?

We could repel them from Ukraine.

It’s a realm of possibility, but—

‘I can’t let those guys take the credit. I doubt they’ve adequately prepared for a surprise attack.’

At the very least, I thought there was nothing to lose.

As usual, I could just lead the forces myself.

With that thought in mind, Ungern mounted his horse.