Valkyria Chronicles:The Reich's War (Season 1)

Chapter 5:Kloden Wildwood

Opening

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-JTF Camp

Conrado:Jeez

Aiden:Something wrong, Conrado?

Conrado:Fox Boy has been always keeps on cooking something new

David:Don't worry about it, besides, even the Marines love the Devolon
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-Gallian Camp

Varrot: Thanks in part to Squad 7 and the JTF, the Great Vasel Bridge is back in our hands.
That pushed the front line back, forcing the Empire to gather forces in central
Gallia. 

Faldio: Does this mean we're headed that way as well?

Varrot: The army will take that front. Meanwhile, the militia will head south.
(pointing to her map) Our next target is here, in the Kloden area. 

Welkin: The Kloden Wildwood...I was there last summer taking soil samples. It's
a dense forest with plenty of hills and valleys. It's hard to get around in
there.

Faldio: What's our strategic objective there, Captain?

Varrot: The Empire has set up a supply base there to fuel their invasion of
central Gallia.

Faldio: I see. So if we seize the supply base, we cut off the flow of supplies
moving north.

Varrot: Precisely. The Third Regiment's objective is to take that base. All
squads are to prepare for woodland combat and await orders. Good luck. 
Dismissed.

Faldio: Woodland combat...what a nightmare!

Welkin: What do you mean?

Faldio: The woods dull your sense of direction, and poor roads make for slow
advances. This'll be our toughest operation yet.

Welkin: Maybe so, but deeper in the woods you have a better chance of spotting
rare foliage. There's one kind of insectivorous plant in Kloden called the
moondew that can suck a--

Faldio: All right, I get it! You really do have a one-track mind, you know that?

Welkin: I'm saying nature isn't just a burden. We might find the key to victory
in the woods.

Faldio: All right. I'll keep a lookout for your key while we're slogging along.
Hopefully your plant won't have eaten it.
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[The fortress of Ghirlandaio, occupied by Imperial forces. Meanwhile, in one
of its rooms, the Imperial commanders have a meeting. One of them, Berthold
Gregor, taps his fingers impatiently. His look is unchangingly stern.]