The Saga of Tanya the Merciless

Measure worth in what remains, 

After battle leaves its stains. 

Every soldier keeps their worth, 

If we calculate their girth.

Tanya moved through the field hospital with practiced efficiency, reclassifying casualties by their remaining capabilities. A lieutenant with a shattered left arm could still command. A sniper with lost toes could still shoot. A radio operator with a mangled leg could still coordinate from a fixed position.

"Capability is rarely binary," she noted warmly, updating her personnel matrices. "Most injuries only reduce functionality in specific domains."

Her system had evolved beyond simple triage. Each wounded soldier was assessed not for how they were diminished, but for what they could still contribute. A man who could no longer run might still have perfect trigger discipline. One who couldn't carry gear might still spot targets.

Sort them by what they retain, 

Not the functions that they strain. 

Every wound leaves something whole, 

That efficiency can control.

"The Americans waste resources through over-classification," she explained to her medical officers. "They see a soldier with a damaged hand and mark him as non-combat. They don't calculate his retention value in planning roles or defensive positions."

Her mathematics had revealed optimal reassignment protocols. Soldiers with leg wounds were repositioned to static heavy weapons. Those with arm injuries became spotters and coordinators. Men with partial hearing loss were perfect for roles requiring focus in chaotic environments.

"Each limitation creates specialization opportunity," she noted, reviewing her deployment charts. Wounded soldiers often outperformed healthy ones in specific roles - not through enhancement, but through forced adaptation and focus.

Place them where their limits fade, 

Where their strengths can make the grade. 

Every weakness finds its place, 

In efficiency's warm embrace.

The system achieved perfect personnel optimization. A soldier who lost fine motor control in his hands became an excellent trainee for heavy artillery, where gross movement sufficed. Those with impaired depth perception excelled at range-finding, having learned to judge distance through other cues.

"The mathematics of adaptation are fascinating," she mused, watching a one-eyed sniper demonstrate improved low-light accuracy. His injury had forced him to develop better night vision in his remaining eye. Now he trained others in his compensatory techniques.

But these discoveries had led her to an even more significant mathematical revelation.

Guide our shots with measured aim, 

To make their burden grow the same. 

Every wound we help them bear, 

Drains more than death could ever share.

"A dead American soldier costs his system approximately 2,000 dollars," she noted, reviewing her economic projections. "But a permanently disabled veteran? The costs compound annually. Medical care, rehabilitation, lifetime support - the mathematics are beautiful."

Her targeting protocols had evolved accordingly. Snipers were trained to prioritize shots that would permanently disable rather than kill. The economic burden of a paralyzed soldier would cascade through generations.

"Consider the systemic impact," she explained to her officers. "A dead soldier's family receives a pension, grieves, and eventually recovers. But a disabled veteran requires constant care. Family members quit jobs to become caretakers. Children's education funds are diverted to medical expenses. The economic drain spreads through entire communities."

Calculate the decades' toll, 

As their resources drain and roll. 

Every veteran they sustain, 

Feeds our victory's long campaign.

Her tactical algorithms now optimized for long-term resource depletion. Specific vertebrae were targeted to ensure permanent disability without death. Joint shots were calibrated to create chronic conditions. The goal wasn't to kill the enemy, but to make them economically unfeasible to maintain.

"The Americans focus on body counts," she noted with professional disappointment. "They haven't realized that a society can recover from death far more efficiently than from chronic disability. Every quadriplegic veteran costs them more than a platoon of dead soldiers."

The mathematics were pristine. Each properly wounded soldier would drain enemy resources for decades. Their hospitals would overflow, their veterans' systems would strain, their social services would buckle under the accumulating weight.

Watch the burden grow and grow, 

As their system's resources flow. 

Every wound must serve its role, 

In draining our opponent's whole.

Tanya made another note: "Combined protocols achieving optimal efficiency. Wounded personnel successfully repurposed for specialized roles. Enemy attrition rate accelerating through targeted disability generation. System functioning at peak performance."

Below, her adapted soldiers manned their posts with mechanical precision, each injury transformed into specialized capability. Her snipers continued their careful work, calculating angles for maximum long-term burden generation. And the Americans never understood why their veterans' hospitals were already approaching capacity.

She checked her charts and smiled. The latest projections showed the American support system would reach critical strain if replicated sufficiently and on a large enough scale within 15 years. The mathematics of necessary mercy would echo through their society until victory became economically impossible.

The Gods of Efficiency, it seemed, valued pragmatic adaptation above all else. There was only the eternal calculation of burden and capability, measured with perfect mathematical precision until even the strongest nation buckled under its own weight of care.