1885, I came to save Greece

Chapter 195 The Inspiration of the Deer Hunter Village

The air in the military conference room suddenly became heavy after Constantine's earth-shattering words.

All the generals, including Metaxas who had just finished a brilliant recap, stared at their young crown prince with the look one would give a madman.

To turn the entire Thessaly into a giant "deer hunting village"?

What does this mean?

This means distributing weapons to tens of thousands of ordinary farmers.

This means that what could have been a manageable border conflict could have turned into a potential threat to future "royalty"!

"Your Highness, do you...do you know what you're saying?" An elderly general with white hair asked, his voice dry and his lips trembling. "This is arming rebels! This is shaking the foundations of the nation!"

"Undermining the foundations of the nation?" Constantine turned around, a terrifying light burning in his azure eyes. "Is the foundation of our nation the parliament sitting in Athens, or the bleeding peasants in the fields of Thessaly?"

He gave no one a chance to refute him and strode back to the huge military map.

His fingers, like a sharp carving knife, sliced ​​heavily across the Thessalian border.

"Look here! This land, we just took it back from the oligarchs! We promised the farmers land and hope, but what have we given them? Bloodstained land deeds and gunfire that rings out every night!"

Constantine's voice echoed in the silent conference room, like a heavy hammer, striking everyone's heart again and again.

"We know exactly what the Ottomans want to do! They want to use these underhanded methods, these wolves in sheep's clothing, to sever the foundation of our new government! To tell our people that the Crown Prince's promises are worthless!"

He paused, his gaze sweeping over everyone present.

"They thought we only had two choices. Either we could send in our regular army, triggering a full-scale war, which would play right into their hands, or we could swallow our pride and watch Thessaly rot away, losing the hearts and minds of its people."

"But they were wrong."

Constantine's tone shifted, becoming filled with a kind of chilling fervor.

"We have a third option!"

"We will not send a single soldier! We will govern the people with the people!"

He pointed to the villages marked as attacked on the map and went from one to another.

"We give them weapons! We teach them tactics! We make every farmer who receives land a warrior to defend their homeland!"

"They know the terrain well, they hate the enemy, and they are determined to protect their wives and children! We will no longer need a large, costly border guard! Because the entire peasantry of Thessaly is our strongest wall!"

"We will use a guerrilla war that sweeps across the entire border to drag the Ottomans into a vast ocean of people's war! Let them bleed, exhaust their soldiers, exhaust their morale, exhaust their patience!"

"We must let them know that they have not offended a weak Greek kingdom, but every free person on this land who refuses to be enslaved any longer!"

The entire conference room was deathly silent.

The generals were stunned into a blank mind by this insane idea.

Only Metaxas, a professional officer deeply influenced by German military thought, frowned deeply after the initial shock.

He stepped forward, his voice deep and powerful.

"Your Highness, your idea... is very bold. However, if I may be so bold, it does not conform to modern military science."

All eyes were on the young captain.

“Peasants are peasants after all. They have no discipline, no unified command, and no systematic training. Give them weapons, and they’re just a mob with rifles.” Metaxas met Constantine’s gaze without flinching. “They are no match for the professionally trained Ottoman regulars. This isn’t war; it’s slaughter. By doing this, we are only pushing our own people into an even deeper abyss.”

His words were calm and cruel, yet they expressed the sentiments of most of the officers present.

Constantine was not angry.

He simply looked at Metaxas and asked, "Captain, do you believe that the outcome of a war depends solely on weapons and training?"

Metaxas was taken aback.

Constantine pointed to the small red dot on the map—Deer Hunting Village.

"What do the villagers of Deer Hunting Village have? Do they have modern rifles? Are they well-organized? Do they possess the tactical skills honed at the German Military Academy?"

"No! They have nothing!"

"But they have one thing that those Ottoman soldiers will never have!" Constantine's voice suddenly rose, "They have the deepest love for the land beneath their feet! The most resolute determination to protect the homeland behind them! The most profound hatred for the invaders!"

"This is their strongest weapon! This is the source of their ability to defeat the strong with the weak!"

"Tactics can be taught, weapons can be given, but this fighting spirit that comes from the soul, you can't give it to them! Neither can I! Only land and homeland can give them!"

Metaxas remained silent.

His mind flashed back to the primitive yet deadly traps of the deer-hunting village, and the astonishing fighting spirit the villagers displayed in dire circumstances. Those scenes defied explanation by any German military textbook.

Constantine walked up to him, reached out, and pressed his hand heavily on his shoulder.

"Captain, I don't want you to turn them into elite German-style soldiers. What I want you to do is turn them into even better 'hunters'!"

"Combine modern military techniques with their native wisdom! Teach them how to coordinate, how to set ambushes, and how to achieve maximum results with minimal losses!"

"I need you to ignite the flames on this land, not to extinguish them with rigid military guidelines!"

Metaxas's body trembled slightly.

He looked into the undeniable trust in the crown prince's eyes and at the magnificent war picture he painted.

The iceberg of his understanding of German military theory began to crack.

After a long while, he finally raised his head, and a complex light flickered in his sharp eyes.

"Your Highness, I need one hundred men."

Constantine smiled.

He knew he had convinced the most talented young officer in the Greek army.

"I give you this authority!" Constantine said without hesitation, "Select one hundred of the most capable, intelligent, and loyal non-commissioned officers from the new army you have personally trained!"

His finger tapped on Metaxas's chest.

"Remember my requirements! First, they must all be of humble origin, preferably sons of farmers! They must be able to sleep on the same kang (heated brick bed), eat from the same pot, and speak the same language as the villagers!"

"Secondly, they must be experts in mountain warfare, masters of infiltration and assassination! I need a hundred jungle monsters, not a hundred puppets for a parade!"

"Third, they must be absolutely loyal! To you, to me, and to Greece!"

Metaxas nodded emphatically: "I understand!"

"Very good." Constantine turned and looked at Alexandros Dimitriopoulos, who had been standing silently in the corner.

"Alexandros, prepare a hundred brand new identities for them. Veterans, traveling merchants, surveyors exploring mineral veins, or doctors searching for herbs... In short, they cannot have any military background."

Alexandros bowed: "Yes, Your Highness."

Constantine's gaze returned to Metaxas.

"Captain, tell your men that from the moment they leave Athens, they will take off their uniforms and forget their ranks. Their mission is not to command the peasants, but to 'assist' them, becoming their 'military advisors' and 'instructors.'"

"They are like sparks. Their mission is to go to every corner of Thessaly and ignite the already piled-up tinder!"

"This unit has no name, no unit number, and there is not even a record of it in the Ministry of National Defense's archives."

Constantine's voice was deep and solemn.

"Their name is 'Spark'!"

Late that night, in an abandoned military camp outside Athens.

One hundred carefully selected non-commissioned officers, dressed in various civilian clothes, stood quietly in the cold wind.

Their faces reflected both the determination of youth and the uncertainty about the future.

Constantine and Metaxas appeared before them.

There were no impassioned speeches, no pre-battle mobilization slogans.

Constantine simply walked past them one by one, looking into each of their eyes.

Finally, he stopped and said in a voice only they could hear:

"On your shoulders you are not carrying military ranks, but the lives of tens of thousands of your fellow citizens in Thessaly."

"What you hold in your hands is not power, but the future of Greece."

"Go, light the fire!"

After saying that, he turned around abruptly.

One hundred non-commissioned officers, standing at perfect military posture, gave a silent salute to the back of the crown prince.

Subsequently, they split into dozens of groups and, under the cover of night, took different paths, silently merging into the vast and dark land of the north like a gentle stream.

An unprecedented secret war has begun.